"Been there, done that," Felicia answers with a shrug of her shoulders. Her sweater is sliding off one shoulder and she reaches to pull it up. It's an absent gesture, one that if she realised that she was doing it, she'd stop. Drumming her fingers on the counter, she smiles at him. It's the smooth and easy smile, the one she practices.
Her glass is almost empty but she isn't in the mood for another one just yet. She'll wait a moment or two. "You're cute. But you probably already knew that."
"You break my heart," Gwaine sighs heavily as he shakes his head and drains the last of his flagon, signalling for another and affecting a severely petulant look when the glass isn't filled nearly as high as he likes. "Cute? What am I, your baby rabbit? What happened to strapping and handsome and provider of drinks to goddesses like yourself?"
"Awh, I hope I didn't break it too much." Felicia presses a hand over her heart, playing at genuine for the briefest of moments. Then it's gone, with a shrug and a laugh.
Sometimes it is just too easy to play this game. It doesn't make it any less fun, but there is something to be said about working for it. "How about handsome charmer? Adonis? Something like that? And I do like to cuddle my baby rabbits, for the record."
"So long as you cuddle them to your bosom, I might not find cause to complain," Gwaine admits, a flicker of a look lower before he rights his vision and is all giddy smiles. "I've just won an impossible battle. What sort of reward do you think that earns me?"
"Where else would I cuddle them?" She shrugs, well aware of her assets being one of her better features. There's nothing wrong with her hair or her ass, but the girls really know how to put on a show.
Swirling her glass so that the ice clinks together, Felicia considers it for a moment. "Depends on how impossible. How high were the odds stacked against you?"
"We're talking about seven men versus an immortal army," Gwaine says, leaning forward and inching his stool ever-the-closer so that he can start to share a little more personal space. "And here I am, talking to you. I think that at least deserves a kiss, wouldn't you think?"
There are questions Felicia wants to ask. Like how big was this immortal army. Number of men, height, weight, you name it. Those sorts of facts matter and she's attracted to a certain level of realism.
Then there's the part of her that quickly tells the rest of her to shut up and enjoy a man on a drunken bragging streak. That's a man she can have a little fun with. Slowly she nods. "It would," she says before leaning over and planting a kiss on him. She's nothing, if not good at having a little fun after the danger's ended.
Gwaine leans forward into the kiss, sliding his arm around her back -- because Gwaine will merrily take the whole cake when a slice is offered to him -- and when he's given his best (and tugged and nipped at her lower lip and maybe let his tongue play a while), he eases back. "Now I know I'm in heaven. Or you're just an angel."
A laugh escapes her as they break apart. She can't help it. A good kiss is not something to be taken lightly and that was a good kiss. Felicia's always been a sucker for one, though not one to be sucked in by them. She just likes to enjoy the ride.
Fanning herself, she returns to her pose leaning against the bar. "Not right on either. Angel is definitely not a word anyone's ever used on me."
Except for her father, but he had meant it in an entirely different way.
"Don't worry, it's absolutely never been used on me," Gwaine promises with a devilish smirk. "Though, the other end of the spectrum, I'm almost tired of hearing it. Devil this and prat that and misbegotten blah blah blah," he drones with a bemused smirk. "So if I'm not in heaven, I really must be on the Island people keep telling me about."
"Unless the word 'devil' has 'handsome' before it, I think they've got it all wrong."
For all Felicia knows, they've got it all right, but she loves bad boys. With the exception of a notable few, she tends to enjoy those who have hearts of gold under their rough exteriors. It's easier when one of them cares for the both.
"You barely know me," Gwaine replies, bemused by her instant judgment of him. "That said, I will happily accept your instant accusal of my handsomeness. Hard as it is," he remarks mockingly, pressing his palm over his heart, "I think I can find it in me to deal."
"You don't know me at all, so I think we're pretty square." It's true. Almost no one here actually knows Felicia. They might know a game that she's given then, but her secrets belong almost entirely to her. She enjoys the power of being able to pick and choose which information about her is known.
"That's the spirit. It might be difficult, but I think you can do it."
"I can do anything when people have confidence," Gwaine says and he's only mocking a little bit because as bright-eyed in the sky as the attitude is, he doesn't find it entirely awry either. "Though I usually fare better with kisses over confidence."
Felicia doesn't find this to be a particularly unique trait. Pretty much anyone can do anything with a little confidence behind them. It's what gets done when no one cares or has faith that is truly impressive.
"Then I'm that I could offer one of the two. It was a pleasure."
Her glass is almost empty but she isn't in the mood for another one just yet. She'll wait a moment or two. "You're cute. But you probably already knew that."
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Sometimes it is just too easy to play this game. It doesn't make it any less fun, but there is something to be said about working for it. "How about handsome charmer? Adonis? Something like that? And I do like to cuddle my baby rabbits, for the record."
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Swirling her glass so that the ice clinks together, Felicia considers it for a moment. "Depends on how impossible. How high were the odds stacked against you?"
She does love a big winner. In that sort of way.
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Then there's the part of her that quickly tells the rest of her to shut up and enjoy a man on a drunken bragging streak. That's a man she can have a little fun with. Slowly she nods. "It would," she says before leaning over and planting a kiss on him. She's nothing, if not good at having a little fun after the danger's ended.
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Fanning herself, she returns to her pose leaning against the bar. "Not right on either. Angel is definitely not a word anyone's ever used on me."
Except for her father, but he had meant it in an entirely different way.
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For all Felicia knows, they've got it all right, but she loves bad boys. With the exception of a notable few, she tends to enjoy those who have hearts of gold under their rough exteriors. It's easier when one of them cares for the both.
"That would be it. So far as I know."
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"That's the spirit. It might be difficult, but I think you can do it."
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"Then I'm that I could offer one of the two. It was a pleasure."
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