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[ as it nears eight, cassidy heads to the hanged man. though he's started varying his wardrobe of late, whenever he goes to this particular tavern he likes to wear his own clothes from his own time, and he doesn't feel at all out of place. so he arrives in his loose white shirt, silk waistcoat, and breeches, his red sash and leather belt about his waist, a knife tucked into his boot.

roxy is, of course, lovelier in person than she appeared over the comm – and that was quite lovely to begin with. it's more than just her looks, though; she's charming but rough around the edges, which hits all the right buttons with him.

they're on the third (or fourth? honestly, he's lost count) round of drinks, and he's laughing at something she said as his hand reaches across the table, his fingers brushing hers oh so casually. ] You know, I had a notion I'd like you. And I was entirely right.

[ roxy realises soon enough that she may not be appropriately dressed, or at least not dressed in any way that makes her fit in, but then she likes this dress a great deal - blue lace, long-sleeved but short enough to show a lot of leg - and so long as she's comfortable, standing out hardly matters, does it? she's used to not quite fitting in, anyway: too posh for the army, too female for kingsman.

she may not fit in, but that doesn't mean she doesn't enjoy the hanged man, or the company she's in. she does, in both cases but particularly the latter, and when cassidy's fingers brush hers, she turns her hand, an easy invidation. ]

Is that so? [ she gives him a quick grin, cheeky more than anything else. ] I'm only here because I want to know if you have a six-pack, of course.

[ the only part of that sentence that's a lie is the word "only". after a moment, she adds - ] You know, our conversation got me thinking.

[ when someone looks as stunning as roxy does in that dress, it hardly matters whether or not they fit in. cassidy soaks in the jealous looks that come his way when she joins him. and of course, once they get to drinking, she fits in just fine.

his fingers slide over hers, his own callus-rough and with several white scars standing out against his tanned skin. he's wearing a few rings, a couple of them heavy with precious and semi-precious stones. ]

With any luck, you'll find out soon enough.

[ with his free hand, he lifts his tankard and looks at her over the rim. ]

Oh? Thinking can be a dangerous thing. [ he takes a sip, sets the mug back down. ] Dare I ask what about? [ he does, and he is. tell him. ]

[ he isn't the onle one receiving jealous looks, but there are more men in the bar than there are women, so he receives more of them than she does. there's something appealing about knowing that you're one of the most attractive couples in a bar, no matter that they are not a couple, no matter that it's a terribly smug thought. ]

Oh, I'm counting on it.

[ she's ordered wine, and while it doesn't come in a delicate glass, it's smooth and strong and she lifts her own glass a moment after he lifts his, taking a sip and then licking her lip in what could be an unconscious gesture of chasing a spilled drop, but is in reality entirely deliberate. ]

You're a brave man, aren't you? [ that's with a slow smile. ] I went and bought all I'll need to make one of my Never Have I Evers become a lie. Just wondering if you still think I'll find accommodating partners if it won't be me taking it up the arse, but my partner.

[ her tone is idle; she might as well be talking about the weather. ]

[ predictably, his eyes track the path of her tongue over her lip. he recognizes it as a deliberate gesture, having used it many times himself, but it's no less effective. as she speaks, his eyes meet hers again.

he pretends to think about her offer, glancing to the left and right, even going so far as to turn around and survey the bar. ]

Well, I'd say your options here are rather limited. However, [ he gestures ] that burly, scowling fellow with the scar might be swayed if you plied him with enough drink.

[ he turns back, leans towards her as if to tell her a secret. his grin gives him away before the words are out of his mouth. ]

Lucky for you, if you so wish it, you need not look further than this very table. [ knowing, of course, that that was her aim all along. ]

[ that's the beauty of it, isn't it? some things are so simple, hardwired into human beings, that even knowing that they're deliberate does not make them any less effective. roxy appreciates those a lot more than she does basic linguistic programming or the like. ]

I don't know.

[ it's a nice grin he has, and she lets her lips turn up into an answering grin. her stomach takes a pleasant tumble at his words, excitement and pleasure and anticipation mingling, but she doesn't let it show except in her grin. ] The burly fellow might show me the time of my life. What do you have to offer?

[ but really, they both know where this is going, and she traces a slow pattern across the back of his hand with her thumb. ]

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