She takes in the outside seating of the cafe; neat square tables in rows on a road paved with neat square stones, colorful patterned fabrics laid over them, and pairs of vibrant green chairs. The breeze off the river is light and refreshing against the heat. Even so, Elektra can already feel how a nice a cold drink would be under the shade of the awning. She takes up Steve’s arm without missing a beat and watches him, his mind appearing elsewhere for a moment. “If you’re finished enjoying the view, we have a reservation,” she remarks, the subtle poke in her voice probably familiar by now. They are working, after all.
The day is approaching one, approaching lunchtime, which is simply a coincidence. Certainly has nothing to do with wanting to confirm if certain habits by certain state officials are as reported, or how the security might shift with the afternoon. Elektra gives the false name Beauchamp for the reservation and sits down with Steve, keeping her hand wound loosely in his in the air between them. As falsely casual as the name. “So. One of us should entertain that couple later, while the other…” She toys lightly with his fingers, as if distracted, while her voice dips a little in volume. “…takes a look at their belongings. May not turn up much, but might as well see, right?” She’s not sure what he’s thinking, but her guess is arms dealers of some kind, if not the outright sellers of the artifact they’re after. “We can run their names up the chain, as well.” There are some benefits to being associated with S.H.I.E.L.D. for the time being.
steve hums, attention drawn back fully to elektra when she mentions his distraction. his lips twitching upwards as he lifts his shoulders in a light shrug. ❝ it’s a nice view. ❞ the company certainly isn’t so bad, either. but he leaves that unsaid for now, because they are working, and she’s clearly in work mode, now. his gaze sweeps the cafe for a moment, taking a brief glance over the other patrons. no one looks overly out of place.
he moves with her as she gives the reservation name, keeping close with her on his arm. and once they’re seated, she doesn’t move to release his hand, so he keeps his hold on hers, relaxing back in his seat. when she starts to speak, steve lets his attention drift back toward her, humming softly. ❝ i think you’re right. ❞ he agrees, watching as she plays with his fingers. it’s oddly... comforting. it probably shouldn’t be, so he forces that thought aside and instead leans a little closer so that he can speak quietly to her. not that it looks like anyone is going to be listening in on him. ❝ do you have a preference for which you’d like to do? ❞ steve asks, shifting his fingers in her own, his thumb sweeping against the back of her hand absently. ❝ i’ll look into getting those names run asap. get as much information as we can. ❞
