They don't seem like the negotiating type. Street it is.

You breathe in and out rapidly, psyching yourself up, then bolt for the street. Your feet are silent and graceful against the soft ground, something you’re thankful for. If you had to guess, the guys are probably from the community college, which means they’re probably heading back to the city if they’re cutting through here. It’s not a lot, but it means they won’t be familiar with the neighborhood, so you can outmaneuver them if you can keep ahead of them.

However, as you turn on your way out of the alley, you freeze. On the porch of that house is a woman you’ve seen around before. She’s tall, probably in her early 40’s. Melinda? You think Melinda. You remember from that barbeque thing last year she came here after a bad divorce. On the one hand, you don’t have anything against her. On the other hand, this is probably the first time the two of you have been face-to-face alone.

“Oh, shit!” she gasps as she sees you, almost dropping the cup of coffee she was enjoying in her bathrobe. “Oh my God, Hannah? Are you okay? Should I call the cops? Jesus, what happened?” You briefly entertain going with the notion she clearly has, but logic rapidly tells you that it would cause more problems than it would solve. You shake your head, desperately motioning with your hands to stay quiet. She tilts her head, then here eyes widen as she understands, seeing the underwear you’re holding in one arm. Before she can speak again, you hear footsteps approaching behind you. Not having much choice, you streak (literally) past Melinda and dart into the alley on the other side of her house just in time to avoid the two guys.

“I swear, I heard that bi- oh,” the one with the camera says, coming to a halt as he looks up at Melinda on her porch. You can’t risk looking out, but you start to inch down the alley before noticing this one DOES have a fence: one that cuts off alley access to the back yards. Your face pales as you realize you’re pretty much at Melinda’s mercy.

“Excuse me, madam.” Oh my god, fedora sounds exactly like you thought he would. “We’re pursuing an irascible young lady who’s stolen from my good friend here.” That’s not even the right word. “Last we saw her, she was a dusky thing in a state of undress-“ DuSkY?! “- and we believe she may have just come this way.”

“Dusky?” Thanks, Melinda.

“You know, of a … darker color. Not like …” You can’t see what he’s doing, but if you had to wager, it’s something that’d piss you off. “You know,” he says after a few seconds.

“Nope,” Melinda states flatly, really dragging it out of him.

“Um … a, uh … not quite black-black, but … uh … darker than … you … or us?”

“… uh huh.” She doesn’t sound impressed.

“Have you seen her, though?” the other man asks, a little more coherent than before. Times seems to slow to an agonizing crawl as you wait for an answer. It’s probably only a couple seconds, three or five, but it feels like Melinda’s taking a year and a day to answer their question. “Thanks!” he exclaims, apparently being given what he needed.

As you hear feet begin to pound against the ground again, your blood chills. You brace yourself, trying to cover up a little, hoping at least not to get full nipple or you whole vagina on the front page of Reddit or something. The only thing that slackens your extremely-tense muscles are when you realize the footfalls are going farther away rather than closer. You wait at least a minute, thinking it’s some kind of elaborate trick for exactly no good reason, before you peek out around the corner again.

“They’re gone,” Melinda says with a heavy sigh, motioning for you to come out. You do, slowly. You wouldn’t at all, but you’re pretty grateful for the misdirection. “So, you actually steal anything from those jerk-offs, Hannah?”

“No! God, no, they just saw me and I guess an eyeful wasn’t enough?” you shrug as you talk, trying your best to seem faultless. Which you aren’t entirely, but more than they were painting it as. “Oh, and Anna. But … you can call me Hannah. I mean, you just saved my ass, you can call me Richard.”

“Yeah, but it seems like you’re kind of lacking Dick.” Her joke is accompanied by a wry smile, and you can’t help but giggle at it. “Anna, then. Sorry, we only met in passing.”

“Melinda?”

“Better memory than mine,” she answers. “Nah, I figure even if you did take something from them, they seem like assholes. I mean, dusky?”

“RIGHT?!” you exclaim. “The least you can do pursuing me with a recording device is not be weird and racist about it.”

“So, you’re out here … recreationally?” You can feel your face get hot at that question. You want to lie, but Melinda’s done right by you. Wouldn’t be nice. You nod, unable to find words again. “Ah. Well, seven years and two pregnancies ago, I’d ask to join, but I’m too tired and old for that shit now. Enjoy it. And don’t have kids.”

“Wasn’t really in my plan,” you admit as you move across her front lawn, heading towards the alley again. “And you’re a total MILF, I’m sure you could still rock this if you wanted to?”

“Think so?” The question wasn’t a question, you could tell right away. It was a challenge. You glanced back at Melinda over your shoulder, stopping your retreat. Honestly, you hadn’t been lying. Her pale, blue eyes were as pretty as they were intimidating, neither things you minded, and while her skin was freckled from a life lived heavily out of doors, it was in excellent shape, just like the rest of her. Even after children, it was clear by her body and the light brown hair with subtle blonde undertones that she didn’t consider herself off the market.