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[condottiiere-blog]

Ah; her first mistake.

Her own reports were already done, filed, and locked away. She was clocked out and a free woman for two days; boredom was looming uncomfortably. Yet perhaps she should have merely gone to the bar and tested her luck there, her wallet well enough lined to pay for the drinks she desires, but lacking the golden touch of company. So, she had placed a bullet between her teeth, and didn’t fix her tie. She should have asked Rude.

She eyes the hand on her person critically, vermilion gaze biting at his touch momentarily, before she seems to give up about it. Let him have this; he’s getting drinks. “Mn.” Noncommittal noises are an art, but that’s not to say she’s a master of it. She tilts her head towards him momentarily, visually negating the slight addition of space as she side steps a bit farther from his side. “Are you good at pool?” Do tell TG; she wants to know how easy hard it will be to beat you.

     Pool and a drink?

Pen taps lightly against the collection of papers neatly stacked to one side of his desk; he’s pretty much done here for the time being, caught up on the reports that needed more urgent attention. A tongue swipes across his top lip. Sure. Why not.

The trademark smirk slithers onto his features as the Turk pushed away from the desk, and not even a second passes before a hand finds itself slinking across the other suit’s shoulders, gently guiding her towards the door and out into the hall. (Personal space appeared to be a foreign concept, presently.)

          “Sure was! Thought you’d never ask.           First round’s on me.”

[condottiiere-blog]

@exoriistos

“TG.”

She is not overly familiar or overly polite; she’s more flat than anything else. Flat isn’t bad though, but it doesn’t mean it was good. “Weren’t you offering me a drink earlier?” Yes, while they were on the clock. The minute hand strays into the territory of ‘free time’ and-- no; still no smile. “I’m interested if you like pool.”