Dillinger lowers one edge of his paper, glancing up at the figure coming through the door. His eyebrows rise and he looks at her over the top of his glasses. It was the hair that caught his eye first, and the strong line of her jaw. But that uniform...
It's not like any uniform he's ever seen before. Less military, more like -- the constabulary. (It occurs to him, somewhere in the back of his mind, that there's an disproportionate amount of law enforcement in this bar. Trust him to end up here in the afterlife.)
"Afternoon, officer," he drawls, the corner of his mouth lifting just enough.
"Commander," he answers, rolling the word around in his mouth like it's a bit of dark chocolate. The paper is folded, the glasses removed and tucked away in the breast pocket of his jacket.
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It's not like any uniform he's ever seen before. Less military, more like -- the constabulary. (It occurs to him, somewhere in the back of his mind, that there's an disproportionate amount of law enforcement in this bar. Trust him to end up here in the afterlife.)
"Afternoon, officer," he drawls, the corner of his mouth lifting just enough.
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And then looks. Well, huh. Not a bad bar after all. That's a nice surprise.
She still wants that drink, though. She pops another button open on her uniform jacket and almost smiles.
[OOC: Sorry! Work got busy in the afternoon, but HELLO, YOU ARE AWESOME HI!]
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"Buy you a drink?"
It was the button that did the trick.
[ooc: no worries!]
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"Only if I return the favor," she decides.
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