When they walked in, arm in arm, every eye in the place was on them. By themselves on any regular day they drew attention, but together, in almost-matching formal attire, straight from the Sierra Madre, people just wouldn't look away. "It's a trip, ain't it, baby?" Benny laughed.
"I just hope we don't start a riot. I'm starting to rethink the red," Six found herself leaning into him a little.
"Naw, pussy cat, ain't that what we're here for?" he grinned as they approached the fountain outside the casino. "Now, give us your best 'I'm the savior of the goddamn desert' smile, 'cause you're on."
As they made their way back to the restaurant, it was kind of nice to have someone beside her rather than following three paces behind. It was so cool the way he shrugged off security and sauntered past, Maria clearly visible on his hip. And while Mortimer was still condescending and borderline rude, Benny's quick rejoinder made it worth the annoyance of dealing with him. The confusion on the faces around the grand table as they sat down together was pretty amusing, too. The biggest surprise, though, was when the masked waiter announced the planned menu, Brahmin Bourgignon or a gecko, jalapeno and potato cassulet, he pulled the man over and asked for a bloody steak with fries for him and the lady.
"But everyone's having the same thing, Benny," the courier whispered.
"Not me, doll. First rule of dining with cannibals, leave off the heavy sauces and spices. If they get offended, make out like it was a power play. Besides,we been through too much shit not to eat what we want."
"But, Benny," Six puckered her lips and bat her eyes, "I was just dying for that gecko cassulet."