peacemakers: (019)

[personal profile] peacemakers 2016-10-22 04:31 am (UTC)(link)
[ Her observation is met with one of his customary, crooked smiles, and he snorts out another laugh as she leaves. He decides to end the argument there, considering there's work to be done, and he figures a bickering match wouldn't help matters much. He slips on one of the headsets, keeping one of his ears uncovered. The software taps into the devices at last, and catches one of the men mid-sentence.

"—their linguini. It's quite delicious."

Oh, good. Small talk still. He and Agent Cullen are sure to save the day with this riveting information. He slouches back into his seat, resting the back of his head on his chair's back to regard the ceiling.

He purses his lips as he listens, then, he calls out, ]


You'd better get in here soon. [ He says it dryly, though, without enthusiasm, which belies the apparent urgency of his words. ] You're missin' some awfully important stuff. Like how Rivera's dabbling in Bikram Yoga.
peacemakers: (020)

[personal profile] peacemakers 2016-10-22 05:23 am (UTC)(link)
[ He glances up when he hears the bathroom door open (the hinges don't creak, though; this hotel is too swanky to let the hinges do anything so terribly mundane), and part of him is relieved to see Emma back to her normal self. Nice as she looked before (and damn, had it been nice), he's familiar with her being dressed-down. She looks more like herself.

He purses his lips at that strange series of thoughts and refocuses on Bogue and Rivera.

More of the pointless chatter. More of them dancing around whatever it is they're meant to be discussing, because it's tacky to jump straight to business, Faraday guesses. Never mind the fact that Bogue was the one to arrive at the party with guards as his plus ones. Plus three, more accurately. Rivera does most of the talking, which doesn't surprise Faraday in the least, but when Bogue pipes up—

He senses more than sees the way Emma tenses, there and gone in a flash. Small enough that, were he not so close to her – physically and professionally – he may not have even noticed. But he casts her another look, brow furrowed and eyes narrowed, and he finally takes the gamble. ]


You need to tell me what's goin' on.
peacemakers: (038)

[personal profile] peacemakers 2016-10-22 07:56 am (UTC)(link)
[ Faraday observes her for another long moment, utilizing some of that focus she often accused him of lacking, before he nods once, turning his gaze back to the equipment. ]

Not now, then.

[ An agreement, but also another one of those half-promises. Not now, sure. Now wasn't the appropriate time. But afterward? Once Rivera and Bogue have inadvertently given themselves up and the information is secured? Faraday intends to yank on that thread again and unravel whatever that mystery is.

Emma was focused at all times, certainly, but this focus was dangerous. This focus was the type one uses when sighting down a sniper rifle with a clear shot on a target, trigger finger itching to squeeze. This focus promised violence and retribution, was an inferno raging below the surface.

It had something to do with these two men. Bogue specifically, if Faraday had to make a wager – and he's reasonably sure it's a safe one.

At last the chit-chat ends, and Bogue is the one to say, "We're both busy men. Shall we get to business?" Faraday perks up at that, resists the urge to throw up his hands and grumble, Finally, and instead shifts the headphones so they're securely over both ears. ]
Edited 2016-10-22 07:56 (UTC)
peacemakers: (011)

[personal profile] peacemakers 2016-10-23 12:25 am (UTC)(link)
[ Faraday listens intently as they plan. Mostly, he's just glad the two of them aren't bullshitting anymore, impatient as Faraday can be. His gaze flicks over briefly to the screen when Emma sets to pulling up the location (she always was quick on the draw), and he thinks to himself, Right. That looks appropriate.

Then as they're wrapping up, Emma directs that heated gaze to him, has that look that signals something boiling beneath the surface. Familiar, for the most part, but given those little slips he's seen tonight, he wonders if this isn't something more dangerous. Reckless.

So his answer is little more than a noncommittal little hum, as he continues listening to Rivera and Bogue politely talk their way out of the room. Little barbs coated in fancy words – the kind of talk Faraday hates engaging in, but likes listening to. Faraday is a straightforward man – he'd rather tell someone to their face if he doesn't like them – but the sort of circuitous ways these folks go about it is at least mildly entertaining.

Once they're well and truly gone from the room, Faraday pulls off his headset. Then, mildly, as he's standing from the desk and going to his pack to find a change of clothes, ]


Never did get that dance, though.

[
peacemakers: (003)

[personal profile] peacemakers 2016-10-23 01:20 am (UTC)(link)
[ Unsurprisingly, his pack is... kind of a mess. Just things tossed in that he felt he'd need, without any particular mind to organization or easy retrieval. So it takes a bit for him to fish out a worn tee and some sweats; as he's searching, he says lightly, ]

Maybe I just like dancin'.

[ but, that's a lie. He doesn't mind dancing, but he definitely wanted to see how far he could push, at the time. And a slow dance seemed to be a reasonably safe risk, at the time.

Safe in comparison, anyway, considering the giant goddamn gamble he took later that evening. He considers himself lucky that Emma isn't currently chucking his body into a dumpster. But best not to bring that up, any time soon.

Once he has his clothes in hand, he moves toward the bathroom to get changed. ]


We'll save it for next time, then.