Skyrim Page 3 - "Either you're naked, or I'm drunk. Maybe both."

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Poor Judgment, (2/?)

[(Anonymous)]

_{Bah. Sorry about the failtalics. -Flips table-}
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Shaking her head and ignoring him, Case turns her blank eyes in Vekel's basic direction. "I'll have whatever he's having." Vekel nods, if only because her behavior makes it easy to forget her blindness, and then corrects himself with a 'mhmm' as he turns to wash out a flagon with a different, noticeably cleaner rag. When her drink is set before her, Case grabs it on her first try, wrapping her hand around the flagon in lieu of trying to locate the handle, and drops a few coins on the bar with her free hand before taking several grateful gulps of ale.

"Plan on staying a while, then?" Vekel asks, and grins at her affirmative nod. "Fantastic. Now you're here, I'm off to bed. Keep an eye on-- Er, don't let Delvin drink all my wares."

Snorting with laughter, Case agrees. "Sure, I'll watch him," she says with a wink. "Sleep tight."

Delvin snickers, nursing his drink, and turns slightly in his seat to look her over. If there's one thing he likes about Case - though there's a few - it's that if she does know he's staring, she can't prove it. Not that it would stop him anyway, he muses, letting his eyes wander over her from long, strawberry blond hair to delicate, pretty Breton facial features, to ample breasts, to tiny waist, to wide hips, to pert, tight ass - then back again. "So how's Gulum-Ei?"

"Still alive," she assures. "Actually, that reminds me, I've got something for you." She leans over, apologizing that this may take a moment, but Delvin, chuckling, encourages her to take her time; he leans back and appreciates the new view of her rear as she shuffles her sensitive fingers around inside her pack for a few moments, struggling with its excess of ill-gotten goods. "Now where did I-- there it is." She deftly rolls the paper out on the bartop before him, tracing the ink with her fingertips, her forefinger following the northeastern border of Cyrodiil. "Feels like a map?" she ventures.

Whistling under his breath, Delvin confirms, "That's the East Empire Company's shipping map, that is. Good condition, too." She's placed it upside-down, so he gently grabs the corners and turns it around to look at it properly. "How'd you know to take it?"

Case just shrugs. "Sitting on a desk covered in coins, in a loft at the upper reaches of the warehouse, behind a locked door? I figured whatever it was, it had to be valuable to someone, and you're just the man to ask."

"That I am, love, that I am. I'll give you three hundred for it," he offers, still sweeping the page with his eyes. It's abruptly snatched out from under his nose and rolled up in one swift, graceful movement as Case clicks her tongue.

"I don't have the eye for goods that you do, obviously, but I know you're lowballing me. Make it five and we have a deal."

Delvin scoffs. "It ain't worth near that much of anyone's money, doll. I'm being generous here."

Case's smile is absolutely wicked. "The way your heart is racing, I'd guess that at five hundred you're getting away with robbery. Nothing new there, though, am I right? Take it or leave it, Mallory."

Grinning despite himself, Delvin still makes a show of grumbling about her avarice and where oh where honor among thieves went as he counts out her five hundred coins. She laughs, not buying it for an instant, and in the end they just toast each other, tapping tin flagons together with a soft clunk and a slosh that splatters the bartop. "To East Empire," she offers.

"No; to mad money."