"Oh, come on." All she was getting were parachute pants. All of it. For days and days, when what she needed was a new bra. The one she'd brought was worn out, and the other one didn't really fit, and it wasn't that difficult.

The box could give her anything, but now... now she was stuck. With mounds, piles of annoying, ugly, rustling fabric.

You could barely see her past the pile, and she finally stood up, kicking the damned thing. "It's not that difficult!"

Lying in wait is something you do when you're hunting.

Thus, Ace wasn't lying in wait. She was standing in the kitchen, contemplating her cup of coffee that had long since gone cold. She'd come to a descision, while staring up at the ceiling of her hut-cabin last night.

She needed to talk to him. And she needed to be able to talk and have him not talk, and rail on, and let him understand. Which he might already. She didn't even know. But things needed to be said, and she was ready to do it.

She looked up when the door creaked, and she sipped her coffee before making a face and pouring it down the sink. "Just the person I was looking for."