Oh crap, Genma thought. s this some guy I've met before and ought to remember? Did I do him on a mission or at a club or something? You'd think I'd remember a guy with a complexion so dark he makes midnight look like sunrise.
He smiled at the man, his charming, relaxed, everyone's-at-ease-here smile. What was it that Mercutio had been telling him that long night he'd spent with the Fae when he first arrived? Some children's story about guessing a name and spinning straw into gold.
"I think I heard a story once where the answer to that question was Rumplestiltskin," he said, and increased the charm in his posture. "But I'm pretty sure I'd have remembered that if I'd met you before. Er..." Genma rubbed a hand on the back of his head. "We haven't, right?"