Booker's words against her ear send a soft shiver across Nile's body--not the words, maybe, but the feel of his breath, the closeness. She isn't used to it yet, still adjusting for the guard's closeness overall, but Booker especially seems to hold back on the PDA. It's not that she minds--she doesn't pull away, doesn't show anything outwardly, but her stomach flips in a way she really doesn't want to think too much about at the kiss, and so instead she focuses on the conversation. Caviar. Right.
"Of course I've had caviar," She hasn't. Nia has. Booker settles back and Nile follows suit, leaving one heel pressed up against his leg, one small point of connection, before turning to her phone, absently scrolling through news articles and clicking at ones that interest her at random.
Their flight is announced sooner than she expects, and again she lets Booker (Deacon, she's got to start thinking of him as his persona, or she's going to slip up--at least Booker is one she can play off as a nickname), but she follows quickly enough, smiling pleasantly at flight attendants as they hand over boarding passes and passports again, as they're ushered down the boarding gate and then onto the plane.
Her eyes widen, just slightly, at the sight of their first class accommodations and she slips into her spot easily, nodding at the offered champagne. With their healing she's drinking slow enough not to get anywhere near drunk, but she'll use it as a shield. People take women less seriously if they think they're a little tipsy.
She shouldn't, but she can't help leaning over to Booker before they're instructed to fasten their seatbelts and whispering in his ear:
"Is Deacon a member of the mile high club? Nia definitely is."
When they were settled into their seats Booker put his hand on Nile's knee and squeezed gently. And he kept his hand there. He rather likes the connection there and the little bit of affection. A married couple should be affection. It's how he was with his wife.
He raises an eyebrow at her question, smiling just a little. "Is that Nile projecting onto her role?" he asks softly, his voice a low rumble.
Booker has had sex in planes before. Not fancy planes like this but the rusty cargo planes and the other strange forms of transport they took to avoid detection.
He couldn't blame Nile for sex on a plane. She was young and would be for a very long time. Why not take risks? Why not have fun? He'd found a little of that again along with his will to live.
Nile doesn't know anything about being married, so she'll let Booker lead when it comes to affection and how much of it they should show. She's loathe to admit it (though she's sure it'll come up at some point), she's only had the two relationships: one with Tobias Anderson at her high school and another just before the military that didn't last through shipping out.
She laughs and shakes her head though, at the question.
"No. Nile's definitely not had sex on a plane. Too many grunts shoved on a military transport and then--what, like Andy would let me bring along a booty call on a mission?"
She gets the appeal, but--nah, she's never. Maybe in the future sometime, just to say she's done it. Like bungee jumping, or skydiving. Turns out when you know you can't die, it gets a little easier to check things off the adrenaline bucket list.
"But Nia totally has. Twice. Once after a trip to Cancun with her sorority sisters, and once on a private jet with an ex. Don't worry honey," She grins, wraps her hand over his on her knee. "You're much better."
Right. Nile is still adjusting to the whole open relationships they all have with each other. She wouldn't just ask for sex on the plane with one of them.
"That's fine. You're better than my two ex-wives," Booker says dryly. It seems like an appropriate amount for someone of his wealth and age to have. "No children."
Because not even Booker could handle having fake children. That was too big of a line to cross. His heart could never take anything with children very well. So, no children. Never any children in these fake identities.
"But maybe Nia can convince Deacon to join her," he teases and winks at the flight attendant as she passes.
Yeah. Give her a decade or two and maybe she will be used to how free the rest of them are with one another. The gentle touches, the free affection, whatever it is that happens behind closed doors -- doors that she's pretty sure are closed because she's there.
At the mention of children, she can't help but reach out with a hand, settling it on his knee and squeezing gently. She gets it, even if she can't say it out loud.
"If you were only telling me about children now, we'd be having a different conversation," She teases, gently, and then makes a face and swats at him. "And I better be better than your ex-wives--in personality and in whatever club we join together."
Excuse you, Booker, she's fantastic in bed. The flight attendant gives them both an indulgent smile, offers to fill their drinks and then is gone again.
Booker’s better. Not perfect but he’s learned to carry his baggage a little bit better. The only thing that cuts deep are children. He reaches out, takes her hand in his, and laces their fingers together.
He’s gotten better about accepting sympathy as well.
“It’ll be about eight hours.” The resort is almost halfway across the country from where they were now. It would be a long, hopefully relaxing flight that would give them time to get into character.
“Once we get there we can unpack and adjust. I don’t think we need to meet our friend right away.” Booker means the target. They can take the time to set up in their private resort cabin and adjust to any jet lag before they go to mingle and make friends.
These sort of missions take a long time. Booker almost wished they could have found a way for Nicky to set up and shoot the bastard. It would be messier but quicker. “It’s good you’re getting into it. Put just enough truth in the character to live it.”
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"Of course I've had caviar," She hasn't. Nia has. Booker settles back and Nile follows suit, leaving one heel pressed up against his leg, one small point of connection, before turning to her phone, absently scrolling through news articles and clicking at ones that interest her at random.
Their flight is announced sooner than she expects, and again she lets Booker (Deacon, she's got to start thinking of him as his persona, or she's going to slip up--at least Booker is one she can play off as a nickname), but she follows quickly enough, smiling pleasantly at flight attendants as they hand over boarding passes and passports again, as they're ushered down the boarding gate and then onto the plane.
Her eyes widen, just slightly, at the sight of their first class accommodations and she slips into her spot easily, nodding at the offered champagne. With their healing she's drinking slow enough not to get anywhere near drunk, but she'll use it as a shield. People take women less seriously if they think they're a little tipsy.
She shouldn't, but she can't help leaning over to Booker before they're instructed to fasten their seatbelts and whispering in his ear:
"Is Deacon a member of the mile high club? Nia definitely is."
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He raises an eyebrow at her question, smiling just a little. "Is that Nile projecting onto her role?" he asks softly, his voice a low rumble.
Booker has had sex in planes before. Not fancy planes like this but the rusty cargo planes and the other strange forms of transport they took to avoid detection.
He couldn't blame Nile for sex on a plane. She was young and would be for a very long time. Why not take risks? Why not have fun? He'd found a little of that again along with his will to live.
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She laughs and shakes her head though, at the question.
"No. Nile's definitely not had sex on a plane. Too many grunts shoved on a military transport and then--what, like Andy would let me bring along a booty call on a mission?"
She gets the appeal, but--nah, she's never. Maybe in the future sometime, just to say she's done it. Like bungee jumping, or skydiving. Turns out when you know you can't die, it gets a little easier to check things off the adrenaline bucket list.
"But Nia totally has. Twice. Once after a trip to Cancun with her sorority sisters, and once on a private jet with an ex. Don't worry honey," She grins, wraps her hand over his on her knee. "You're much better."
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"That's fine. You're better than my two ex-wives," Booker says dryly. It seems like an appropriate amount for someone of his wealth and age to have. "No children."
Because not even Booker could handle having fake children. That was too big of a line to cross. His heart could never take anything with children very well. So, no children. Never any children in these fake identities.
"But maybe Nia can convince Deacon to join her," he teases and winks at the flight attendant as she passes.
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At the mention of children, she can't help but reach out with a hand, settling it on his knee and squeezing gently. She gets it, even if she can't say it out loud.
"If you were only telling me about children now, we'd be having a different conversation," She teases, gently, and then makes a face and swats at him. "And I better be better than your ex-wives--in personality and in whatever club we join together."
Excuse you, Booker, she's fantastic in bed. The flight attendant gives them both an indulgent smile, offers to fill their drinks and then is gone again.
"How long of a flight are we in for, again?"
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He’s gotten better about accepting sympathy as well.
“It’ll be about eight hours.” The resort is almost halfway across the country from where they were now. It would be a long, hopefully relaxing flight that would give them time to get into character.
“Once we get there we can unpack and adjust. I don’t think we need to meet our friend right away.” Booker means the target. They can take the time to set up in their private resort cabin and adjust to any jet lag before they go to mingle and make friends.
These sort of missions take a long time. Booker almost wished they could have found a way for Nicky to set up and shoot the bastard. It would be messier but quicker. “It’s good you’re getting into it. Put just enough truth in the character to live it.”
A good lie always had a kernel of truth.