she's got another something (someone) sweet on her mind. her phone's on the table too and she's staring at it as though that will be enough to wake it up with a notification. but she knows it's not going to. these are Naomi Sato's busiest hours of the day. 

still, that doesn't stop her from sighing and nibbling at the end of her straw, waiting for some fruity text about interdimensional rifts or aliens come through. 

her gaze lifts. the somewhat chewed end of the straw pops out of her mouth and she chuckles, raps her knuckles against the bar and flips the phone over so it won't distract her. this is the bartender who had made her bombass piña colada. 

"eh, kinda both? watching grown ass men throw fits because they're losing money they don't have is a new kink i didn't know i had," she says with a grin. 

she gestures with a jut of her chin to one table in particular. "i wanna make that old fart with the twenty-something arm candy cry."

Isaac Merlo

☉

she snorts out an ugly laugh, lucky she hadn't yet attempted to swallow the last of the frozen drink in her mouth. but she does that now and licks her teeth, her lips, and looks at him out of her peripherals. 

parker's has a fairly one-track mind. her mission's somewhat fallen to the wayside because there are greater stakes here. she's pretty sure his hands are going somewhere not appropriate for a public establishment and really, the worst of it is that he's touching the chips afterwards. 

she doesn't fault the girl. not once. she's known girls like her. fuck, she's shaken down men like him before - the men who own them, warping circumstance and tying a noose with green paper. women like dav. thinking about her makes parker suck down the rest of her drink. 

"first thing you gotta know about me," she says as she pushes the glass towards him, "is i'm real fuckin' good at gettin' under people's skin."

she slaps her palm against the bar top and gives a wink. "why dont'cha bring me another two in about ten? sooner if i can work 'im up faster."

Isaac Merlo

☉

parker can safely bet her life savings on the fact that no one else has thought of her as a "sharp-witted provocateur." hell, she still has no fucking clue that her bartender is actually her mission partner. hell, she's kind of forgotten she's on an assignment in the first place.

doesn't matter. she swaggers confidently off her chair and moves with a bounce to her step to nab the chair beside old crusty's left, snatching it out from underneath a mild-mannered snob who looks like he's about to say something, but sees her withering glare and flexing of her muscles, and backs off with an agitated mumble.

the game's blackjack. the dealer gives her a look, but says nothing, and she throws her lot in with the rest. he doles out the cards. seven of diamonds. she taps with her pointer and looks to the man at her right, scoots her chair. the thumb lifting his cards presses them down again and he harumphs.

"so what's a pretty girl like me gotta do to end up in your lap like this dame here?" she asks. the woman two seats to her left nearly snorts out her drink and coughs into her arm to hide her chuckles.

Isaac Merlo

☉

crusty, to her surprise, takes the bait. well, then again, she could absolutely see some stifled, conflicted homophobia deep in his bones, and maybe she's chick enough he can tell himself i'm not gay while plowing her in the ass and marveling at how utterly masculine her broad shoulders are.

his eyes are predatory, not leaving hers.

until arm candy leans a little in his way, tits brushing his cheek for arceus' sake, and out of view, parker simpers up at her. blonde tresses are heavenly, tumbling over her shoulders and her front, and her eyes are a soft green. her eyes tell parker everything. and that's why parker winks. 

'cause ain't no way she should be the one feeling threatened right now. 

"aw, y've pegged me already. got a sweet tooth. ma says that's why 'm such a brat." mommy issues get pathetic points, right? she taps a thumb. ten of spades. the round passes and comes back to her. crusty taps. she does too. 

four of hearts. oh, fuck. 

"oh, fuck." oh well. there will be more time to lose later. 

"aw, don't worry, sweethea't," crusty says, ingorantly misunderstanding her 'fuck' (of course). not for long though. dealer goes to call and she flips her winnings over. the arm candy wriggles and parker raises a hand to the bartender for some drinks to smooth things over.

Isaac Merlo

☉

"it's on me," parker says when isaac nears, which makes crusty shift awkwardly with a couple of grunts. the blonde in his lap nearly slips right off, but he catches her with a knobbly hand over her stomach. he looks down at parker and gives her a wolfish smile. 

'it's on me. fer yeh winneh's luck.' his eyes glimmer and he takes his fill of her body. parker's only response is to cock a brow and think of at least thirteen different ways she could break his nose. 

the other patrons just want to get on with the game. parker scoops her winnings up and leans back while the dealer changes tables. man, she kinda misses casino starlight. that place had some class. 

isaac asks what they want and crusty orders a a dewar's with one rock (wannabe pretentious fuck) and then says, 'same fer 'er. ye look like a whiskey gal.' which, if he had a single braincell and could absorb the one thing she'd told him about her, he would know this is incorrect. but parker just flashes a brilliant smile and nods up to isaac. 

"call?" she flips the corner of her card up. another ten. taps for another. 

"and somethin' for his girl here, too," parker says sweetly. 

Isaac Merlo

☉

parker tries her best not to smile (unsuccessfully) when she sees the vodka cranberry in isaac's returning arms. the blonde is more than happy with the drink and takes it with beautifully manicured hands, sipping neatly on the bar straws and curling around crusty's doughy form. 

the dealer comes around again. with the second pass, she'd pulled a two. that puts her at a nice, neat twelve. respectable at least. her gaze slides over to isaac, down at his hands. around the table one more time. crusty taps for another. 

fuck. 

she could lose. double down on her bet and throw some money away. y'know, actually do the job she was supposed to come and do, but crusty's hands are going somewhere they shouldn't on the girl, at least not in public and hey, fuck him. 

she taps again. brings herself to a nice, pretty eighteen. 

maybe i'm actually kinda good at this, she thinks. 

everyone calls. crusty swears. chips get pushed over to parker. she sips lightly on her drink (blech) and watches crusty take a big 'ol swig of his. he mutters something and the blonde actually totters off of her perch, tottering away to go to the bathroom. leaving parker with a beautiful view of crusty's rumpled suit.

"aw, c'mon. don't get mad at lady luck," parker says with a grin. "next round? imma go all or nothin'."

Isaac Merlo

☉