[ He hums a quiet agreement when she points out the guards, and he tracks them with brief glances. One there, another there, one standing bored beside the restrooms there. Others scattered throughout, patrolling the ground with purpose in their step, sharpness in their gaze. More than they expected, but not a problem, theoretically.
Theoretically.
Faraday takes a glass as the server passes, barely glancing at him as he wanders by – apparently “Mr. Brennan” was not the type to pay any mind to the help. Unlike Emma, he takes a quick sip (because he’s here to work and enjoy the party). The good stuff, he notes with some approval as the drink hits his palate, but of course it would be at a soiree like this. Not his usual drink of choice (he prefers his drinks much stronger, much cheaper, and in much higher quantities), but it’s nice. If you enjoy that sort of thing.
Another quick glance around, and he matches up the blueprints the two of them had memorized to their physical locations. Exit there, door there, alcove there, dark, suspicious little hallway away from prying eyes there, there, and there. Faraday makes a slow, easy circuit of the room, Emma still on his arm, waiting as the other guests filter in. Fashionably late, presumably, some more than others.
He glances over to the glass in Emma’s hand, notes that it’s still as full as the moment she picked it up, and he puts on a small smile. ]
Not to your liking— [ his smile widens slightly ] —sweetheart?
no subject
Theoretically.
Faraday takes a glass as the server passes, barely glancing at him as he wanders by – apparently “Mr. Brennan” was not the type to pay any mind to the help. Unlike Emma, he takes a quick sip (because he’s here to work and enjoy the party). The good stuff, he notes with some approval as the drink hits his palate, but of course it would be at a soiree like this. Not his usual drink of choice (he prefers his drinks much stronger, much cheaper, and in much higher quantities), but it’s nice. If you enjoy that sort of thing.
Another quick glance around, and he matches up the blueprints the two of them had memorized to their physical locations. Exit there, door there, alcove there, dark, suspicious little hallway away from prying eyes there, there, and there. Faraday makes a slow, easy circuit of the room, Emma still on his arm, waiting as the other guests filter in. Fashionably late, presumably, some more than others.
He glances over to the glass in Emma’s hand, notes that it’s still as full as the moment she picked it up, and he puts on a small smile. ]
Not to your liking— [ his smile widens slightly ] —sweetheart?