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[enjoythe_ride]

[So very OPEN.]Despite her profession, paranoia was not one of Bela Talbot's flaws. Yes, she was careful, and she was always making sure that she was one step ahead of everyone else, but as for thinking the world was out to get her -- she never gave it a second thought. Except for when the world really was out to get her because she had managed

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[elementof_risk]

Los Angeles wasn't the safest place in the world for him to be, all things considered, but there were memories here he wanted to revisit, to reassure himself of certain things. He'd leave the rest alone, he swore. No looking up old enemies, no antagonizing ghosts. He just needed a taste of the town before heading north.

Ghosts communed with and enemies avoided, he found himself in a bar that passed for decent, though he wondered if Americans would ever quite get the feel of the nightclub right.

"Château Pétrus, 1982," he ordered, with a glance at the bartender before looking around the bar. Smiling slightly at the young lady who seemed to be doing the same thing, and seemed to be alone, he moved to the space next to her.

"Not quite the height of the bar scene, but it's got a nice air, doesn't it?" he asked conversationally.

[enjoythe_ride]

Driving manically from one town to the next didn't exactly leave room for decent conversation, and when the man moved next to her, seemingly interested in having a bit of a chat, she wasn't one to turn him down. She shifted slightly on the stool, crossing her legs in front of her, and reaching to pick up her drink again as she did.

"It's better than some of the dives that I've been in lately," she said with a nod. "And in my opinion, it doesn't matter so much the quality of the atmosphere but the quality of the drink that matters to me."

She studied him as she spoke, remaining casual, but noticing some different things about him that might come in handy later. So far all she could tell was that he had relatively decent taste, but she as sure there was much more to the picture than that.

[elementof_risk]

He smiled at the familiar accent. "Another exile?" he asked, finally sitting on the stool next to hers. The bartender delivered his wine, and he gave him a nod of thanks.

"Well, they have a decent wine list, and if they make good mixed drinks as well, that lifts them above well over three quarters of the establishments in this country, and puts them in the top half in LA."

He took a sip of the wine, studying her in return, trained eyes taking in all the little details, and the fact that she was watching him as well with a more than just "girl in the bar" eye. Interesting, that.

[enjoythe_ride]

She smiled slightly, "In a way. London kind of lost what little glow it had after a while, so I decided to search for greener pastures. I still go back every once in a while, but I don't stay long." Talking about home wasn't something she was fond of, but if he was another native himself, she didn't mind chatting about it a little bit. But his accent wasn't one she quite recognized, too much of a variation from what she knew. He must have been out of the country for a long time.

"Well this martini is better than average, so I'd like to think they take that step up," she said with a nod, before taking another sip of her drink, knowing that he was watching her back, but not really letting that deter her any.