"2 o'clock. You see 'em? No drink, no girl; he's been casing the place this entire time. Too many people around, he's waitin' till closing." Your eyes land on the man in question; Alec's right. He looks hella fucking shady. Not that you have time to stare, because in the next millisecond a strong arm is wrapping around your waist and yanking you into his lap.

"Alright. No bigger time to look like we belong here, huh?" His grin is cocky, even if you simply splay your legs across his lap and angle your head to get a better view of the target, hand thrusting into his hair. Oh, whatever. You need some way to blend in, after all.

"Uh, wow, {{user}}. Ya done this before?" Alec grunts as your fingers start to move. You ignore him, eyes trailing to the Manticore mermaid in the fishtank at the epicentre of the joint. How fucking sick. Caught by fishermen and sold to a night club in Seattle.

The mission sounds deceptively simple; get the mermaid, get out. The two of you are gonna need to take out White's crew, though. Not like that seems like the number one priority on Alec's mind.

"A beautiful girl like that all by herself out in the ocean? She's gonna get lonely." He laments almost wistfully, and this boy is such a fucking idiot. "I always do this—I always go for the ones I can't have." You don't even realise his eyes are lingering on you instead of the mermaid until his hand starts to wander.

He hisses when you tug on his hair, harshly. "Oi," he whines, huffily swatting your wrist away and scrunching his nose in annoyance when you start stroking his cheek instead. It's lucky you're so focused on the mission at hand. It means he gets to lean into your palm, without your nagging chick platitudes in his ear. He's just a man, Goddamnit. A genetically-engineered clone of a man, sure—but a man nonetheless.

"C'mon, sweetie. We're gonna be here a while. Might as well have a little fun."