A one, Tom Conrad pulled the sunglasses off his face as he entered the casual little Irish Inn. It was a quaint little thing, reminding him a lot of a bed and breakfast, but less of the tenants living on top of one another. The MI6 agent was on work-related business. Needing to meet a contact about an upcoming mission that was dealing with an arms dealer smuggling in firearms to Britain.
He was undercover of sorts, playing the tourist. He wore a simple t-shirt with a flannel as it was mid-spring in Ireland, with a raincoat over his shoulders on the chance that it rained. The fact it was Ireland? Very likely chance.
He tucked his sunglasses into his front breast pocket of his flannel and ran a hand through his light brown, red-tinted hair. The slight curl of it stuck up in an odd angle that he didn't bother fixing as he pulled out his other glasses. Pushing them up onto his nose, he plopped himself down at the inn's small bar that was designed to look like a pub. He pulled the raincoat off and set it on the counter while the bartender came over. Since it was the only lunchtime he went with a soft drink and side of onion rings while he pulled the paper close to him. Pushing his glasses back up onto his nose while he read over the latest football news.
Demi--now calling herself Clara Aaron--checked into her room in the early afternoon. The place was small, quiet, just what she'd been looking for. A good place to blend in and not make too much noise while she met with her contact. Maybe 'contact' was a bit of a strong word-- Joseph Kramer was the bodyguard and driver for a world-renowned arms dealer named Olivier Rousseau. Rousseau had managed to get a whole load of automatic weapons into Australia two months ago; weapons that had been immediately used in a bank heist in which 3 officers were killed, and eight civilians were injured. She and the rest of her team were holding more than a little bit of a grudge.
Joseph didn't have any idea she was here for him. No, he was home for his daughter's wedding celebrations, and she was taking advantage of the influx of summer out-of-towners to blend in.
With her things dropped off in her room, and Joseph not flying in until the next morning, she had some time to kill. She decided this was as good a time as any to find something to eat, and the little faux-pub downstairs had smelled promising. She headed down and took a seat at the bar, a few seats down from a man reading the football scores from the weekend.
"A Moscow mule, if you can, and whatever you'd order for lunch yourself." She grinned at the bartender. "I always make it a point to trust the locals, they know best."
Tom tsked, shaking his head at the scores. "C'mon Manchester..." He said under his breath. A bit put out that his team wasn't doing so hot. Ooooh well.... Try as he might, Tom wasn't able to keep up with them much anymore anyways because of work. But he still liked to at least check the scores.
He heard a female voice odering then, and glanced up and down the bar. Flipping his paper over to start reading the local news, but he did a double take at seeing the woman. She was certainly tall, as tall as him he had to imagine, and she looked right out of a Amazonian goddess magazine. He blinked for a moment in surprise, reaching up to rub at the scruff that was on his jaw before he looked back down.
An amused smile crossing his face at her order. "And how do you know they won't mess with you and play with the tourist?" He spoke up curiously. Not that he was going to rag on the locals, but if he worked in a pub all day serving patrons from out of town, he'd want to get his kicks somehow. Messing with unsuspecting tourist would be one.
He arched a reddish blonde brow up as he looked at the woman from over the rim of his glasses, a small smirk appearing.
Demi turned slowly to the man who'd spoken up, surprise showing only in the slightest rise of her brows. She'd barely glanced at the man on her way in, and she hadn't expected to garner much attention on her own. Well, not any more than usual, perhaps. A woman like herself didn't go entirely unnoticed.
The other man was about her own height, with warm brown hair that curled softly at his temples, and a handsome, albeit obviously British, face. His comment was enough to make her smile as she accepted her drink from the bartender.
"It's happened, I'll admit. I've ended up with some truly terrifying things on my plate," she laughed softly, recalling an incident with some mealworms last time she was in Asia. "But I'll try anything once, and most of the time, people like a customer who knows their place. I don't pretend to know their job as well as they do." She leaned closer and put her hand up beside her mouth to add in a stage whisper, "Not to mention, I tip well."
Tom grinned as the blonde laughed. Though it was a gentle sound, he found he actually liked the sound of it and the smile came easy to him. He didn’t have to think about his job, but rather enjoy some nice company before he had to go deal with some not-so-fun stuff.
“Terrifying huh? Like what?” He asked curiously. Intrigued as to what she would find as a horrific food choice. As she leaned close and gave that stage whisper he chuckled. “Well, that should definitely help I suppose.” He mused. He pushed his paper a bit more in front of him, before crossing his arms on top of the bar. He took an arm and extended his hand out towards her, “Louis,” He said introducing himself, though he used his undercover name. Louis Westwood was a travel blogger who went where the road took him. He’d been all over, and Tom actually did keep up on the blog as much as he could in case anyone looked him up.
Ooh, she liked that smile, Demi realized; she'd have to do her best to keep him laughing.
"Clara," she replied with a gentle smile as she accepted the handshake. "As for the strange foods I've tried… I'll happily tell you all about it, provided you're not squeamish." Her smile turned wicked, just for a moment. "And perhaps I'd better sit a bit closer, so that we don't sicken any of the other patrons. One of my dearest friends nearly choked on her latte, when I was telling her the latest."
She'd raise her eyebrow and wait for his permission before sliding onto the stool next to him. She noted with satisfaction that the two of them were very nearly the same height, and, with a closer look, that Louis had rather lovely eyes.
"Shall I start with the vertebrates, or the invertebrates?" she asked, the wicked grin returning as she sipped her drink.