Summary: Zed has a question.
Word Count: 255
“How do you do it?” Zed asks, reflective, and Constantine shrugs at the question.
“You’ll have to be a little more specific, luv. I do a lot of things.” She leers, but Zed plays the game perfectly, better, even, than Chas—plays along, but doesn’t actually go along with any of the flirting they do in their little dance.
“Sleep around but don’t get pregnant,” she says, bluntly, and Jane coughs, caught by surprise. That’s another thing Zed does well, surprises.
“It’s a neat little trick, innit?” the blonde responds, pulling out a cigarette. It’s something to do with her restless hands. It’s hard to sit still. “Thing is, it’s magic. I’ll teach you if you want. A handy little spell all girls should know, in my opinion. Thing is, those politicians, nasty little bastards who only want to tell the ones they don’t like what to do, they can’t outlaw magic because they don’t know about it. Protects you from everything but the pleasure.”
“Maybe you can teach me some self-defense spells, too,” Zed responds with a beguiling smile, and she finds herself smiling in return.
“Only some of the non-lethal ones, yeah? Don’t want to get you in the sort of trouble that would have Chas disappointed enough that he’d bugger off and leave us to our own devices.” She always feels a little more alive when fighting the status quo.
“You just don’t want to have to cook,” the psychic teases, and Constantine shrugs. She doesn’t need to voice the Yeah, so?