notjustaface | The Love Boat

And... that's enough mingling. He heads back over, sliding onto the recently vacated stool.

"You look like someone kicked your dog. Get any information out of her?"

... It's probably a good thing he couldn't hear them.

And thank God he did, because after an accusation like that part of him is tempted to chase after her - and he can't say for sure exactly what that would lead to.

"Other than a the fact that she's a bit of a bitch wrapped in vintage Gucci slinging back whiskey like water? Not really, no. She's definitely a suspect, though - said she's here as a guest of one of the grooms."

He takes his drink, letting the frozen banana and tropical thing mingle with rum on his tongue.

He eyes the drink with some amusement.

"I was wonderin' who'd pay the big bucks for a cruise vacation just to look like they hate every minute of it."

He gives Face a long look as he samples the fruity alcoholic slush.

"Are you okay, though?"

He's seen him get slapped, get drinks thrown at him, and in one memorable case get put in a headlock by the irate recipients of his attentions, but he's never seen him look like that after talking to a woman.

Those were not some of his most proud moments, though he has to admit in the last couple years his success rate hasn't been perfect.

"Mmm? Yeah, fine." He brushes it off with a slight laugh, leaning in to press a kiss against his cheek. "What about you? Anyone look interesting?"

He leans into the kiss, somewhat glad for the public display of affection.

"No one who looked like an international arms dealer. Met some nice people, though."

Yes, Face, this is your life now. Badass one minute, sweet and domestic the next.

That much he can handle, at least. Though, what the girl had said still weighs heavily on his mind. Not to mention the fact that he had kind of checked her out... a little. Hey, looking isn't touching.

"People can be deceiving," he murmurs into his drink; "we don't exactly look like a flight attendant and an accountant from Texas."

"Guess not."

He sets the glass down, leaning slightly harder against his side.

"This would be so much easier if people would just wear the 'hi, I'm evil' t-shirts."

Problem is, there's never really a clear-cut case of good and evil. Face knows for a fact a lot of his own actions in the last twenty years could very easily get him the t-shirt.

"We should probably look for lesbians - where do they hang out?"

The look he gets in response to that is Eyebrow for 'do I look like someone who hangs out with gay women?'

"We don't actually know she's part of a couple, do we?"

"If I was smuggling a million dollars worth of stolen guns out of the country on a cruise ship... my first move would be either disappearing entirely - or making myself the center of attention."

He shrugs, taking a long sip. "Besides, if anyone's going to be looking at women on this ship..."

He just nods.

"Wanna go do some recon with me?"

"By recon, do you mean take our fruity drinks over to talk to people and make with the couple thing?" He flashes a half smile; "Because I could probably handle that right now."

He leans against his partner a little more, letting their weight meet between the bar stools.

"Or, you know, whatever."

It's a comfortable sort of weight, as they support each other.

"It's for the good of the mission, babe."

He presses a kiss to his temple.

He lets out a low, only half-meant, groan and takes a long sip of his drink.

"Fine, but the rum's coming with me."

The kiss makes him smile, of course, because he knows it's for him and not the man he's playing today.

"Wouldn't leave it behind." It's a fine line, playing these parts.

Rising up somewhat reluctantly, he once more establishes his closeness with his free hand in the small of Murdock's back.

"Lead the way, man... I'm with you."

"Right... stay cool."

He leads the way to the side of the deck where a small group of women is gathered. For all outward appearances, they're simply enjoying the view.

Stay cool? He could have invented cool, in his mind.

Collected and calmed after the strange conversation, he's ready to put his best foot forward again when he warmly says; "Afternoon, ladies..."

He leans against his side, trying to project an air of cheerful, non-suspicious politeness.

"Nice day, isn't it ?"

The girls offer them a friendly look, one in particular raising her eyebrow at Murdock's shirt.

"Little tropical for a northbound cruise," she smirks.

Content to simply watch, Face glances over the group for anything that may be out of sorts - they don't really know much about the person they're dealing with but liars always have a tell.

"I like to bring the tropics along for the ride."

He raises his glass, bland smile still on his face as his hand finds his partner's.

Reflexively, Face squeezes his hand tighter and takes the lead; "Just not a vacation without - besides, it's not that cold up north this time of year."

He shrugs, taking a sip of his drink.

He squeezes his hand back, interlacing their fingers.

"So what brings you ladies on this adventure ?"

A some what tomboy-ish blonde holds up her finger and tilts her head toward a lanky woman who's busy leaning over the railing taking photographs and the third, a stocky brunette who had mocked Murdock's shirt, gestured to them.

"Getting married," the blonde answered. "Guessin' you two are too."

Face nods, leaning a little more comfortably toward his his partner. "Love is in the air."

"Looks like congratulations are in order all around then."

He's still squeezing his hand, unobtrusively keeping an eye out for any tells or signals that might mean trouble. Face is usually better at reading people than he is - it comes with the con man gig - but two observers are better than one.

"Isn't that right, hon?"

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