Cliff surveyed the room, sipping his old fashioned slowly. He was bored, the charity dinner party not very stimulating. He’d been to plenty of these things before. It was all elbow rubbing and under the table deals. Today, he had no need for any of that. He was only here for appearances. It wouldn’t look good if the Captain wasn’t seen going to a function like this. His eyes flicked to his wrist watch. Another hour. That’s all he had to get through. Simply to bide time, he engaged the lieutenant next to him in conversation. His mind was only half there, eyes wandering. He almost fully stopped talking when his eyes landed on you. You were sitting across the room, not even trying to cover up the fact that you were profoundly bored by the whole thing. There was a glass of something dark in your hand, bourbon or whiskey. You swirled it, the ice clinking against the glass. You, certainly, could be more interesting than the rest of the people here. He should know you, he knew almost everyone else. So how had you slipped through the cracks in his knowledge? Excusing himself from the man he’d been speaking with, Cliff made his way towards you. He leaned against the wall, taking another sip of his drink. Your eyes flicked up to meet his and he smiled, sharp and quick. “I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you, have I?”