Date: 2008-04-23 07:13 am (UTC)
The grin he shoots her is a little on the devious side. "I might just be trying to get you into bed with me." With a broad gesture, he indicates the sand on all sides. "If you don't mind a little sand, that is."

He can do drinks with a lot of alcohol; the stuff has so little effect on him now. In a way, he's like the permanent designated driver for them: dead but strong, he could carry Faye wherever he needs to so he can see her safely to beauty rest. Of course, she probably wouldn't let him do that, but it's all right: he's entitled to his fantasies just like anyone else.

Being on a different world is a treat, especially considering he was resigned to never leaving the bar. But the honest truth of the matter is that he would have left because he promised that to Faye, and he would have followed her anywhere. Even if it meant he would no longer be, he'd do it if it meant she could be out here having a normal life. She's such an amazing woman; there isn't much of the good variety that she doesn't deserve. Not everyone sees her like he does, and he really doubts that's just death coloring yet another aspect of existence with its rosy hues.

If everyone felt like he does now, nobody would fear death at all. It's made him so much more alive.

One not-so-tentative sip of his -- what did they call it, a mixed-fruit delight? -- later, he gives her a catlike grin before stretching out again. There have been times when he's wished he could give her the world on a silver platter. He can't, but moments like this make it seem like he's getting close.

"So... how do you like it?" The drink would be the obvious subject of the question, but he's left it intentionally vague: she's fun to seduce any way he can, and as far as he's concerned, there's no one more stunning on the entire beach than Faye.

And she's here with him.
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