"You sure you legal?" Remy was asking, holding the door open for a pale blone youth, viewing him with scrutiny, "You bedda' have a damn good fake i.d., I don' thin' they serve ya with out carding, not with dat face," he teased, reaching out a hand to squeeze Bobby's cheeks, pausing mid pinch as he caught sight of a familiar face. "Well dun' ya know it, da girl is stalkin' me, I swear," he said, lips curling, Dat' dare' s'the girl I been tell you 'bout," he said, pointing her out.