[oom: Miami, The Warehouse District]

She rummages in the small pantry looking for something that isn't mineral water.  Nothing presents itself.

"Clearly I have not stocked this place in anticipation of visitors."  She looks over her shoulder at him, sprawled on the bed in that boneless sated fashion he perfected no doubt years before she ever met him.  "We may have to put on clothes and make a run."