The door slams open under the force of a size thirteen combat boot. "I have had it up to here with being jerked around by you people! Where! Is! The! Monkey
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There is a woman with short dark hair standing at the bar - from the looks of it she wasn't expecting to stay there much after getting the beer that's in her hand - who looks over quickly at the sound of the door.
Rose has not seen a monkey recently, but this place is strange enough (and that is really saying something, given her life recently) that she would believe that she has missed it.
Of course, given that the man is bursting in from elsewhere, it is entirely possible that his search is intended to be elsewhere.
"Funny how you decide that jut by looking at me," she comments.
As it happens, she is not involved with an international smuggling ring, and she never will be, as there are no longer any such thing as 'nations' where she comes from.
"So why d'you want an inanimate monkey?" she asks, head tilted just a little. She's still holding a glass flower pot, empty, as she's turned more or less towards the back door.
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Very quickly.
Then she raises an eyebrow.
"Any specific monkey?"
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"A very particular monkey, as it happens."
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"Haven't seen even a slightly particular monkey for a while. Time for a drink while you wait for it to show up?"
It's possible she's amused.
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Eliot gives said brightly-dressed man a look. It is a very eloquent look, and obviously is intended to convey are you kidding me?.
Then, just in case the brightly-dressed man is not good at reading obvious looks, Eliot adds: "Are you kidding me?"
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Oh he could read those expressions.
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Rose has not seen a monkey recently, but this place is strange enough (and that is really saying something, given her life recently) that she would believe that she has missed it.
Of course, given that the man is bursting in from elsewhere, it is entirely possible that his search is intended to be elsewhere.
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After all, she doesn't give off the vibe of someone involved in an international smuggling operation.
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As it happens, she is not involved with an international smuggling ring, and she never will be, as there are no longer any such thing as 'nations' where she comes from.
Not as such, anyway.
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"Unless it's a very clever monkey."
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"Eliot."
She's not looking at him.
Or is she?
Okay, so she is. But not in any way that could be interpreted as friendly.
(But she is.)
(Or is she?)
"You come here."
It's a barely potable cocktail of curiosity, suspicion, and surprise.
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And he doesn't know the tiny blond woman who seems to have recognized him.
"Apparently," he answers neutrally. His voice lacks the edge of annoyance he will one day learn to employ when dealing with Parker.
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A neutral Eliot is a strange Eliot.
"First time?"
She directs a wolfish grin at him, which is more unsettling than anything. She hasn't gotten the hang of timing her inappropriate gestures, yet.
(Or ever.)
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The woman doesn't move like a fighter, so he's not really worried.
Except that she moves... well, like she's wildly unpredictable. And that's rarely a good sign in Eliot's line of work.
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