"I'm always on the run," she replies, amused. "But now that you mention it, we're both dressed up real nice. I bet you and I could slip into a gambling room and have a bit of fun."
Tess decides, instantly, that her business meeting is completely off the table. Her partners can handle it, and she'll handle them if they don't. A riverboat sounds far more appealing. She gives his arm a playful squeeze, leaning into him for a second.
"Sounds perfect. I think I know a guy who will let us on."
"Knowing a guy is half my job," she teases, and she leads the way.
They are a brisk walk from the docks, and Tess indeed knows a man at the gangway who is one playful conversation from making a clerical error that allows them to board under another pair of names. Chronic no-shows, that Mr. & Mrs., they'll argue and argue with each other until they miss the boat. It won't be noticed until they dock again.
"There," Tess says, just a touch smug, as they stroll on. "That was easy."
"I admire that greatly," he says, with a little flourish. He opens the door to the first betting room, and they're greeted by a thick curtain of smoke, a loud room, the smell of liquor and money.
She's always felt at home in the chaos of competition, whether it's a smoky gambling parlor or a standoff with suspicious buyers or something, anything that gets her heart pounding. Places like this always end up being her favourites, and given how any time in them could be the time she gets busted, she likes to enjoy them like they're her last.
"You grab drinks and I'll find us some seats at a good table?"
"Don't need to," she replies, "already got my hands on you!"
Off she goes to the tables, stepping up into a table conversation like she knows everyone. She has people making introductions right off the bat, reaching out to shake hands and joking until people start moving chairs for her and her guest.
He looks at her while their drinks are being made, the way she's talking to people, notices how beautiful she looks in that dress - enough so that the barman has to raise his voice to get Arthur's attention.
He just tips him, ignoring that little lapse in attention. Because she's gotten them chairs, and there are hands to shake, introductions to make - Tacitus Kilgore, pleased to make your acquaintance - and cards to cheat at.
Tacitus Kilgore –– that gets a smile out of her, big and playful. She loves that kind of audacious stunt, using a name so unique and memorable that people will remember it but be completely unable to follow up with. She's Emma Oglesby, at least for tonight.
"You're such a dear," she says to him, taking her drink. "I was just telling our new friends here about our trip from up North."
"Awful weather up there," he says, his voice a low rumble as he settles in. "Glad to be back down South. Let's hope the winnings are better here, too."
Downplaying himself, a little, let people underestimate him. It works wonders - he loses a few hands, and then wins a few much bigger ones. He gives it over to Tess with a signal, as he pockets his winnings. He didn't even have to cheat. The energy in the room is making him feel happy, elated, giving him energy enough that he knows he wants to start walking around.
Tess finds it all too easy to fall into her usual ways: friendly banter, keeping other players talking, split three ways between conversation, the game and their drinks. Arthur raking in the wins makes it all that much sweeter.
She nudges him with an elbow playfully.
"You want to stretch your legs a bit, go for a smoke? I'm going."
"I think I might just need a smoke, Miss Oglesby," he says, cheerfully. He gets up and offers her his arm, leaving the table considerably lighter-funded.
Once the fresh sea air hits him he just looks at her - and laughs, a full, happy belly-laugh.
Tess links her arm with his, her other hand resting on his forearm too, like a proper lady. It tickles her to hear him laugh about as much as it does to think about all the cash that's been swept up.
"See, this city's loads of fun," she says, giving him a little squeeze. "You just have to know your way in."
"You were right," he concedes, more than happily, before switching to put
an arm around her shoulders instead. There's a mild orange glow in the
distance, marking a distant dawn.
She chuckles, leaning into his side. She snakes an arm around his waist for a moment to fish his cigarettes out of his own pocket. She lights one up for him with a wry smile.
"Why, thank you, sir, you're an impressive man yourself," she replies. "I'm real glad I didn't have to leave you with that whole damsel in distress schtick, that would've been far less interesting."
“Sounds like fun,” she replies. High stakes. Adrenaline. She muses on her gang for a beat — she’s glad to have them, but like everything else in this life, they’re temporary. She shrugs, smiles. “I’m around anyway. When business is going good, I’ve got lots of free time.”
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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"Now that's what I like to hear. How 'bout one of them boats down in the harbor?"
Make it extra fancy.
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"Sounds perfect. I think I know a guy who will let us on."
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"You always know a guy," he says, not complaining. "Alright. Lead us there."
He seems to have forgotten he had a job to do at all. Fuck them. He'll get a horse and find his way back to camp tomorrow.
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They are a brisk walk from the docks, and Tess indeed knows a man at the gangway who is one playful conversation from making a clerical error that allows them to board under another pair of names. Chronic no-shows, that Mr. & Mrs., they'll argue and argue with each other until they miss the boat. It won't be noticed until they dock again.
"There," Tess says, just a touch smug, as they stroll on. "That was easy."
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"I admire that greatly," he says, with a little flourish. He opens the door to the first betting room, and they're greeted by a thick curtain of smoke, a loud room, the smell of liquor and money.
Arthur brightens immediately.
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She's always felt at home in the chaos of competition, whether it's a smoky gambling parlor or a standoff with suspicious buyers or something, anything that gets her heart pounding. Places like this always end up being her favourites, and given how any time in them could be the time she gets busted, she likes to enjoy them like they're her last.
"You grab drinks and I'll find us some seats at a good table?"
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He puts a hand on her back for a second and gives her a suave little grin before he nods and goes to do so.
"Don't go charmin' the other fellas in here, now."
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"Don't need to," she replies, "already got my hands on you!"
Off she goes to the tables, stepping up into a table conversation like she knows everyone. She has people making introductions right off the bat, reaching out to shake hands and joking until people start moving chairs for her and her guest.
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He looks at her while their drinks are being made, the way she's talking to people, notices how beautiful she looks in that dress - enough so that the barman has to raise his voice to get Arthur's attention.
He just tips him, ignoring that little lapse in attention. Because she's gotten them chairs, and there are hands to shake, introductions to make - Tacitus Kilgore, pleased to make your acquaintance - and cards to cheat at.
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"You're such a dear," she says to him, taking her drink. "I was just telling our new friends here about our trip from up North."
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"Awful weather up there," he says, his voice a low rumble as he settles in. "Glad to be back down South. Let's hope the winnings are better here, too."
Downplaying himself, a little, let people underestimate him. It works wonders - he loses a few hands, and then wins a few much bigger ones. He gives it over to Tess with a signal, as he pockets his winnings. He didn't even have to cheat. The energy in the room is making him feel happy, elated, giving him energy enough that he knows he wants to start walking around.
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She nudges him with an elbow playfully.
"You want to stretch your legs a bit, go for a smoke? I'm going."
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"I think I might just need a smoke, Miss Oglesby," he says, cheerfully. He gets up and offers her his arm, leaving the table considerably lighter-funded.
Once the fresh sea air hits him he just looks at her - and laughs, a full, happy belly-laugh.
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"See, this city's loads of fun," she says, giving him a little squeeze. "You just have to know your way in."
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"You were right," he concedes, more than happily, before switching to put an arm around her shoulders instead. There's a mild orange glow in the distance, marking a distant dawn.
"You're one hell of a woman, Tess."
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"Why, thank you, sir, you're an impressive man yourself," she replies. "I'm real glad I didn't have to leave you with that whole damsel in distress schtick, that would've been far less interesting."
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"Ain't that the truth?" He takes the cigarette, takes a deep drag, and then offers it over.
"Best to meet each other again in a graveyard, run from the law, and then swindle a couple rich folk."
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"Makes you wonder how we're going to top this, next time we cross paths."
She passes the cigarette back, arm settling around his waist again.
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"Bank heist?"
He takes a drag and relaxes against the railing.
"Shame you already got a gang to run with." He'll kind of miss her once they part again.
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"Well. I regularly check if I have any messages waiting for me at the post offices. You ever want to find me - you just send me a letter, huh?"
His hand squeezes her shoulder.
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"You got more tricks up your sleeve, lady?"
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