[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]"perhaps," she murmurs. her eyes are having difficulty focusing on his given the fact that that smirk is enticing and she's a sucker. she doesn't hide the way her gaze drops to trace it and then slowly rises back up.

"i just can't help but wonder if you'd prefer to be asking other questions," she tries to drawl it innocently but it comes out more suggestive than anything. fitting, honestly, but it's fine.

and then, he finally finishes his drink and the grin she wears is almost satisfied. not quite but getting there. and maybe for every single drink he finishes, she'll have five but it's fine. she's enjoying herself.

"what're you doing later?" definitely not innocent and definitely provocative. the cheshire cat smile only solidifies her intentions but she doesn't care. instead, she knocks the next drink back and looks expectant for whatever answer he gives.

Finley Black

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]she uses the lull in conversation to shift closer, to lean into his space as alcohol begins to settle further into her body. of course, it's to be expected, what with how many drinks she's gotten through compared to his still untouched one. if this was a competition, she'd be winning. except, it's not and she's merely just showing off her drinking problem. oops?

"you gonna drink or just ask questions?" she's impatient by now. or, well, as impatient as she can be given this is supposed to be professional and not a night out on the town. yet, anyway.

he shifts the conversation into another question and she doesn't bother to answer right away. instead, she'll pause to sip her drink, eyes never leaving his.

"tyranitar, bisharp, hawlucha, bewear, luxray," she rattles off the names easily and then, without warning, she's leaning a little closer just to stare at him. an eyebrow raises and she's grinning, unable to help herself. "when are we gonna get to the good questions?" like oh, i don't know, what she's doing later? he might not like that answer. actually, maybe he would.

she leans away to finish off her drink and slide it back toward the bartender.

Finley Black

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]does she lie and try to pass it off as something it wasn't? the reasoning behind her involvement isn't the best, really. besides, how do you say you just wanted the reward money? apparently, easily.

"i originally took on the job to get some extra cash," she offers, leaving her drink alone. it's a little wet with condensation when she eventually wraps her fingers around it. "but seeing as the guy was dead and all, i figured the next best prize was capturing the guy who did it." of course, things are never that simple.

the next drink is finished by the time he asks the next question. and maybe it's becoming a little bit of a drinking game to her now. a drink for an answer. he isn't playing well, though. his drink is still untouched, still simply sitting in his hand. her eyes drop to it for a moment before they return to his face.

"why do you think?" it's only half sarcastic but enough for her to sigh and then push her glass away. the bartender collects it and leaves another within minutes. "kill the witnesses or heroes or whatever, right? that's the only logical reason, anyway." but to attack so brutally, so viciously? yeah, she still hasn't grasped that part of it yet. the reasons elude her and she simply chalks it up to self defense instead of wondering if it was just for chasing the thrill.

Finley Black

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]right, time to recount to the best of her ability. she ignores the way he doesn't even sip at the drink, if only because it's probably not best to hound him into getting drunk with her. no, gotta stay professional or something.

she raises a finger to signal for another, as if coming to understand the bartender was waiting for her to ask for more. and naturally, she always does.

the new drink settles by the time she begins and for a moment, it's untouched.

"i came across the body first," she murmurs. "or, better yet, what was left of it. shit was a disaster. straight out of a horror movie, blood everywhere. the body was still relatively warm from what i could tell so i tried to track the guy who did it." she pauses to swirl the drink around her glass, watching the way the ice clinks softly against the edges. it's downed a moment later and she continues. "i ended up stumbling upon some ranger who, turns out, ended up being a big help. but, anyway, we were ambushed almost immediately."

she doesn't bother to signal the bartender again. instead, she shifts her eyes away from the empty glass to finn. only when she finds his eyes does she continue.

"we almost died trying to get answers so," another pause, this time because the bartender returns with an expectant look. she nods and shifts in her seat. "i doubt his fans will get any. whatever answers there were died with the bastard."

the third drink clinks against the counter as she falls silent, as she waits for the inevitable questions to begin.

Finley Black

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]she has to keep her hum from dipping into purr territory. good taste, huh? well, some might say she has no taste and others might say her choices are immaculate. depends on the audience, perhaps. and maybe that's why she decides to start them off a little easier than usual. she directs her attention to the bartender, missing the way finn's eyes linger a little too long on her.

"whiskey, please," she murmurs, smirk shifting a little until it's flirtatious and earning a look from the bartender. he's probably seen her here before this, drinking herself under the table without a care. oh well, who hasn't by now?

oooh, a recorder! she's not sure why it amuses her but having their imminent conversation kept to play back later is more entertaining than she would've thought. maybe it's because she has absolutely no filter and he's more than likely gonna end up with something spicy on a tape. oops?

"not at all," the smirk doesn't change but her tone does. there's a slight dip, a slight dive into uncharted territory. how many boundaries can she push now? we're boutta find out! "i wouldn't blame you if you didn't use any quotes and simply just wanted to hear my voice." a wink follows and then the clinking of glasses against a counter. her attention shifts away from teasing him to the drink before her.

and in true giada fashion, she's already knocking it back before he can wrap a hand around his own.

the empty glass settles back down and her eyes return, expectant and almost waiting. "what's first, love?"

Finley Black

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]a good story. she'll gladly give him that, maybe more if boundaries are pushed as far as she wants them to be.

anyway, the walk is surprisingly short. she doesn't bother to fill the spaces between them with idle chatter. no, she's a girl on a mission, focused on the destination. and while it's probably a little sad that getting to the bar earns more focus than an actual job, she realistically could not give a shit so it's fine.

"so," she finally pipes up as the door swings open and the mild noise of the bar greets them. she's leading him in without waiting for him to decide this probably isn't a good idea. no hesitation, no consideration. just drinks on the mind, really. "what're you having?" as a thanks for accepting the invitation, it's only polite for her to buy the first round.

giada takes a little more care to swing herself onto a stool than she normally would. body still kinda healing and all that jazz. besides, unless she wants to rip wounds back open, it's better to take it easy. the nurses would not be happy to see her again, that much is certain. only when she's settled does she turn to face him and that smirk is still lingering on her features, still curling at the corners of her lips. it almost seems to grow in the dim light of the bar.

Finley Black

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]a polite smile meets a smirk and while she kind of, sort of understands boundaries, it's difficult to give a shit about them when the man looks like that. she'll try to be good, though. last thing she needs is a bad article written about her. god, marcel would have her head.

"why the interest in that?" she drawls. it makes sense, she supposes. you know, the whole brutally murdered angle makes for a good read but if he already knows what happened, why seek her out? truthfully, she doesn't mind discussing it or even thinking about it but man, she'll need something a little stronger than coffee for that.

perhaps that's why she slips close enough to brush against his arm, smirk never wavering. "i'll tell you whatever you'd like to hear," she murmurs before her voice dips to a whisper and it's definitely intentional when she leans into his personal space. "but only if you get a drink with me."

pick your poison, journalist. she doesn't give him a moment to answer, already slinking toward the door whether he agrees or not. there is, however, a moment where she'll throw an expectant glance over her shoulder. as if she knows he'll follow. for the story or whatever, right?

Finley Black

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]"busy's an understatement," she muses with a slight laugh. each receptionist has their own sort of issues to attend to, leaving no room for the man to do much besides just stand there waiting. and while she's looking forward to crawling into her bed, he's piqued her interest enough for her to linger.

"what kinda article?" an eyebrow raises and a hand settles to a hip but instead of waiting for him to answer, she shifts through topics like clothes in a closet. "i could help you find who you're looking for if you're interested?"

except, turns out, she's the one he's looking for. her grin widens and she's stepping closer to take his hand.

"giada," she leaves the last name off for now. while brown might be a totally rad last name, it doesn't suit her but appearances and identities have to be upheld. there's only a little no good in her eyes when she purrs. "pleasure's all mine." and then, she's dropping his hand because if she held it any longer it'd be considered odd. she'll let out a light laugh, though, at the circumstances. "guess you didn't need help after all, huh?" it's only half a tease if she stops to think about it.

and while she's expecting him to ask questions, she's not exactly done asking her own. they continue to slip out with the tilt of a head and the mild purr of a luxray at her knees. "so, what can i do for you, darling?"

Finley Black

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]he denies the iced coffee and the little game she's made of it. a shame, but more for her? she makes a point to take another sip, eyes never leaving his. the can leaves her lips but there's a grin where the edge had been.

"why?" she's curious, really. what does he think? it's rare to get an opportunity to pick his brain and she's trying to snatch it up. maybe that's why she leans toward him, head tilting as if she wants to use him as a human shield against the sun. "you must have an opinion, bossman." she doesn't expect to get any insight, however. if anything, she expects him to brush off the topic.

what she doesn't see coming, however, is what comes next. it succeeds in bringing a smirk to her lips. marcel, her, on another job? damn, sign her up! she doesn't bother to hide the interest. instead, she'll wear it and wear it well. "i'd be stupid to pass up on that offer," she murmurs. and she probably is a little stupid but shh that's okay, we accept her anyway. the smirk widens with a tease. "is that your way of saying you want to spend more time with me?" probably not but she'll take what she can get. besides, even if it's just to keep her focused, it's still more time to play this game with him and she'll never turn that down.

marcel maeda

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]her head isn't that big, is it? ego boost or not, that sounds close enough to a yes for her to grin a little wider. "i definitely do," she chirps back. a wink is even thrown in for good measure, if only because that smile of his is a treat and she wants more.

the bartender glances between them and she doesn't need to shift her attention to know the look is expectant. and yet, she doesn't order yet. nope, she's watching him knock that drink back. her features are only half devilish when marcel speaks up again.

"me?" she tries to hold back a laugh but fails, miserably. does he know what he's signing up for? probably. does he care? the jury's still out on that one. "are you sure about that?" she doesn't wait for an answer. instead, she finally shifts to face the bartender and that smile is definitely up to no good now.

"time for shots! tequila please, love."

marcel maeda

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]fucking finally. after a week of laying in a hospital bed doing literally nothing, she's almost free. well, as free as a recovering person can get? oh well. anyway, she's never been so happy to crawl out of bed and stretch. joints pop and creak but it's music to her ears. her body is still recovering, still aching slightly, but damn if she ain't about to run out of here anyway.

well, she was going to. the day apparently has other plans for her.

she makes it out of the room at least before a nurse is stopping her. a few dozen eye rolls and filled out paperwork later and she's slinking toward the exit with a luxray in tow. and while she had spent a week in a bed, she's definitely about to just go lay back down at home. mmm, bed.

bed unfortunately has to wait, however.

giada's stopping again. this time, though, it's on purpose. well, mostly on purpose anyway. there's a man a few feet away and he looks a little out of place. her head tilts and before she can decide against it, she's calling over to him. "you look lost," she snickers. there's a pause before she's slipping a little closer, a hand rising to run through messy blonde hair. damn bed head. anyway, a grin rises when she speaks next. "need help or something?" she's definitely not the best help but it's the thought that counts or something like that?

Finley Black

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i"]paid job. gears churn in her mind a little at the thought. who'd pay to have an athlete killed in such a way? she's no stranger to dirty work like that but really, it just seemed like overkill. it leaves a sour taste in her mouth. maybe dread or maybe just the notion that she'd almost been a victim herself. actually, she was technically a victim but it's fine. everything's fine.

"who'd pay for that shit, though?" she murmurs her thoughts out to him, nose scrunching. "do athletes even have enemies? kinda seems weird." unless it was for a different reason. man, all this thinking makes her brain hurt. no more, please.

he did feel angry, that much was certain. his tyranitar even felt livid and brutal. like pokemon like trainer, she supposes but why? why so angry? ugh, more thinking. she has to hide a grimace as she shifts, bandages rubbing uncomfortably against sheets. "makes you wonder if he was angry over being caught or simply just an angry shithead," she muses. was he always angry or did something set him off? a trigger can come in any form but what was his? she doesn't want to think about it anymore.

her luxray purrs a little louder and snuggles closer to her legs. a faint smile rises at the movement, her eyes darting over and then back to lance. the laugh she lets out is soft, almost tired. there are no complaints on her end. actually, maybe one. when the fuck can she leave?

"i'll be sure to get right on that," giada snorts. it'll take a while before she's at full capacity again but... the tv has been calling her name for a week now so maybe she'll finally get the chance to catch up on missed shows. mmm, yes. there's a moment of pause, of mild hesitation, before she's flashing him a full, genuine smile. "thank you, again, for saving my ass back there." she wouldn't have survived otherwise, that much is a concrete concept.

LANCE VOLLANS