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Jaime Elizabeth Davies (finder) wrote in silverage,

“Oh, see, there’s the flaw in your plan,” Jaime pointed out. She was aware of his hand against her thigh, but it wasn’t like he was the first man to get handsy with her, and this was mild, relatively speaking. “If it was possibly my last night on earth, I would’ve gone for a hooker. If I was a guy.” She paused. “Unless you already did the hooker thing and now you’re just after stimulating conversation while getting drunk.”

She doubted, very sincerely, he was a secret agent. Wasn’t the point of being a secret agent that you didn’t go telling everyone about it? Even so, Jaime nodded toward the door. “Don’t look, but there’s a man in a white coat and he’s got a gun. I bet he’s the enemy spy, right?” There was, of course, no man in a white coat with a gun, but … well, she could play, too.

“But you know, if you don’t want to tell me your story, that’s okay. I’ll just make one up in my head. ‘cept mine will involve Martians. Just so you know.” She grinned as she took a sip of her drink, flexing her leg slightly as she shifted her position a little on the stool.