As their laughter died down, DJ's eyes traced down to her bare legs. Remembering she was in the dress, she tugged at her skirt and crossed her legs. He tilted his forehead forward, peering at her through his thick eyebrows. The clatter of the bar muffled when she caught his gaze and the world around them blurred. Her thoughts tapered, dwindling until all could she knew were his eyes on her. His broodingly handsome face easily took her breath away.

"Like the dress," he said seductively. A bit of his hair fell to his face, as his eyes locked onto her legs again. She tried to cover her mouth as she an embarrassed smile formed on her lips. But it was too late, he had noticed. He traced his finger over a scar on her knee, giving her goosebumps. She brushed his hand away, and looked to see if anyone was watching. Giving her that signature grin, he folded his arms, cunningly looking at her from the corner of his heavy eye.

Suddenly the bartender announced their table was ready, which took them both out of their daze. He lead them to a bench facing away from a seaside window. She didn't think that made much sense considering the point of the nice seating was to have a view of the ocean. Confused, she sat on the bench. As soon as DJ sat beside her, the bench swerved around and they were behind a table inside their own private dining room. There was a large window on the other side of the table showcasing a beautiful view of the ocean. Little balls of soft light floated above the water. She could see the waves rise and crash, even in the dark. "Wow," she marveled.

Feeling DJ's eye on her, she turned to see him leaning on his hand and watching her. He stared at her with the same look in his eyes as the time he'd first seen her fight on Canto Bight. There had been a respect behind his gaze, but something else she hadn't been able to figure out then. Looking at him now, she could see what it was easily.

"Is this some sort of kink for you?" she said with a raised eyebrow.

"Watching you b-b-beat people up? If it is, it's new," he admitted. He took a deep breath, as his demeanor shifted and he changed the subject. "Usually here by myself." He folded his arms and leaned on the table, looking out across the waves. "It's n-n-nice to have company."

The woman tried to read the expression on his face. His eyes looked sort of misty like someone lost in a day dream. Perhaps DJ was content, as though this night had gone exactly as planned and he wanted for nothing. She got the feeling this didn't happen a lot. "You come here often?" she asked.

He continued to stare ahead. "Steal from Canto Bight. C-come here. Spend all the credits. Go back to d-d-do it all again."

Feeling a bit saddened, she muttered, "That's a vicious circle."

She hoped he hadn't planned return to Canto Bight. She never wanted to see that place again, and she wasn't keen on the idea of leaving him. However, it was his life and they'd only just met. If he wanted to go back, she wouldn't try stop him. She just wasn't sure if she'd follow.

He shrugged his shoulders and grabbed the wine bottle. Opening it, he poured them two glasses. He raised his in the air. When he noticed she hadn't done the same, he nodded his head, gesturing towards it. She realized what he was implying and raised her glass as well.

He cleared his throat. "Got plenty of credits. P-place to shower. Warm bed...could be warmer. Canto Bight is poison. Th-th-thought I had the antidote. I was wrong. You-you were the incentive I needed to leave. I'll n-never go back," and he took a sip.

Shocked, she put her glass down. "What?"

He looked surprised and repeated her, "What?" Taking another sip, he ignored her questioning gaze. He relaxed in his seat looking out the window. "It-t's bad luck not to toast together, ya know?"

Glowering at him, she pursed her lips and frowned. He gave her a sly smirk. DJ enjoyed being coy, especially because it irritated her.

She put her hand over his glass. He slowly lowered it to the table. The dark circles under his eyes were more prominent in the hazy light of Hearth's Fire. When he widened them long enough, their hazel shade contrasted brilliantly against his swarthy complexion. The rest of the time, his calm and uncaring attitude meant his gaze was so often heavy lidded and canopied by his untamed black eyebrows. His eyes appeared even darker when he fixed his commanding gaze on something. And unless a direct light was shining in them, they appeared as they did in that moment...two black holes that seemed to so often, suck her in immediately.

She held his gaze, hoping he'd kiss her. His fiery eyes danced over her face, and he seemed to consider it. Yet, he stayed frozen, refusing to move. Instead he tilted his head, smirking and amused by her desire. Realizing she'd lost, she gave a helpless grin and took a sip from her glass. DJ took a smug sip from his wine and then took his hat off, placing it on the table.

Their little moment was over almost as soon as it had begun.

He sat forward, attempting to take the coat off as well. He struggled a little because of the tight space between the bench and the table. Seeing this, she grabbed his coat sleeve with an attempt to help. In the end, she had to pull it out from under him because he'd been sitting on the back of it. When she yanked it, DJ slipped out and fell under the table. She laughed, holding the coat in her lap.

"Ooh, there's a n-nice view down here," he said laughing with her, and putting a hand on her leg. She kicked him and he climbed back into his seat. He was truly unflappable, not showing the slightest hint of embarrassment. She respected him even more for it.

She examined his coat. It was heavier than she assumed it'd be. DJ noticed her looking over it. He opened a flap on the sleeve for her to see, and inside were a series of metal pins. Gauging her interest, he showed her a multitude of secret compartments in the coat. Each time she thought he had revealed the last… with a bit of flair, he'd revel another.

She was ignorant in the way slicers worked. Training for 14 hours a day hitting hard surfaces didn't exactly give her much room to learn anything else. So, she didn't understand the intricacies of technology or thievery. His tools, tricks, and treasures fascinated her. She must have asked a dozen questions, but he never spoke down or teased her ignorance. On the contrary, he explained what several of his devices did with a great fervor. He enjoyed demystifying it for her, and she guessed he also enjoyed boasting about how good he was at stealing.

DJ put his chin in his hand, his heavy eyes watched as she picked up his skeleton key, running her finger over the surface. The liquid metal changed and adapted around her finger with ease. "You look at me like I'm a m-magician. M-m-most don't care to understand what I do, or why. Th-they only see a thief."

"Do you treat it like an art form or something?" she teased. She handed him the skeleton key. He grabbed it, and their fingers brushed together. She hoped her face wasn't turning red, but he didn't seem to notice. Something about the way she phrased her question made him huff, as if he remembered an unpleasant memory.

"The m-master codebreaker certainly thinks he does," he said. She didn't get the impression he had been bothered by her teasing, just a little embarrassed that she had inadvertently compared him to this Codebreaker fellow.

"Who's that?" she wondered.

DJ made a noise which could only be described as disgust. He shook his hand in the air as if he was trying to shush the thought of Master Codebreaker away. "A political shoplifter. Man's never s-s-seen a lock pick in his life." DJ practically glowered at the ocean as if he were trying to set it on fire with his eyes. She hadn't seen him angry before.

"Wow, you really hate this guy, huh?" she asked.

He slowly shook his head, "I condemn him. He doesn't know what it means to be forced to do whatever it takes to live comfortably, bathe regularly, and eat. So-so to him it's only about showing off… creating a title. He's a c-c-clown."

She put a hand on his shoulder. He twitched but relaxed some of his stiff posture. She tried to think of something to comfort him, "I bet you're way better than him at…whatever it is…you slicer types do." She patted his back. He brushed her hand away with a scoff. But it had worked, his demeanor lightened and he looked more like the old DJ.

Putting her hands in her lap, she surmised "If people see you as a thief, they must see me as a murderer." She had said it to try and make him feel better, but as soon as the words came out of her mouth she realized how true they were.

DJ looked up at her, his expression unreadable. He ran his fingers through her hair. She suppressed the urge to lean into his hand. She became more aware of how enclosed the space they were sitting in was, at how their knees were touching, her elbow brushing against him, his fingers occasionally brushing against her neck. She looked away, "That's what you said to me in the jail cell, that I was going around murdering people. You were right."

He took a deep breath, relaxing away from her. "I only saw someone trying to survive," he picked his finger nail, "just like me." They locked eyes, "also someone I could make some money off." He said with a grin.

"I believe you," she replied with a sardonic smile.

"I like being a th-thief. Do you like being a murderer?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah-but I don't always murder." DJ looked at her skeptically. She modified her statement, "I mean sometimes I try to not murder." He still looked doubtful. She paused, thinking back to when she killed her cellmate just because he irritated her. "Well, I guess it's useful," she admitted.

"You're the nicest murderer I've ever met." He patted her on the back just as she had done to him.

She shook her head as if to admit 'oh well' and then stared out to the ocean. DJ paused looking at her for a moment then turned his gaze back to the sea as well.

The rolling movement of the water transfixed her. She imagined herself lost in its waves…rocking in its current. As she fantasized, the waves transformed in her mind. They reminded her of bedsheets. In a moment, she was no longer fighting to stay above the water, but choosing to stay beneath it and tumble. Just when she began to wonder if she were alone, DJ spoke up and startled her.

"Did a hard reset for the ship. No tracking device either. St-stupid man." She glanced over and saw him fiddling with the napkin on the table, "It just needs a f-f-few finishing touches, and then…."

"And then…what," she mumbled to herself, lost in thought.

Putting an arm around her, he reassured her, "Plenty of time to f-figure that out." The sudden touch of his arm around her caused her to come out of her daze. DJ had a mischievous twinkle in his eye. He moved his hand down to her hips, pulling her into him, inches from his face. Feeling entranced, she took a deep breath hoping to steady herself. He chuckled and increased his tight hold on her. But then he relaxed as his alluring gaze fell southward on her body. She felt a mild panic as he leaned down and rested his head in the crook of her neck. His breath felt hot against her cold skin. For a moment she stiffened, unsure of what he planned to do. When she realized he intended to stay put and calm, she relaxed.

Somehow, he still smelled like motor oil and leather. She picked up her glass and continued to drink, as DJ ignored his, deciding to instead hold on to her. He was so easy going about everything. They'd just met a day ago, yet she felt herself permanently attached to him.

When the waiter finally arrived, the pair were still like this. He seemed unfazed by it, immediately asking what they wanted to eat.

The woman choked on her words, trying to think of something to order, but DJ rose with his finger in the air. He kept saying the word 'special' as in 'give me the special.' She gathered it meant something that had to do with what was available for the day. A short time later, the waiter came back with 4 plates of food. She felt gluttonous just looking at it.

"What have you done?" she exclaimed.

"Bet they f-f-fed you slop on Canto Bight. It's time for us to feast," he said picking up his fork.

Just when she thought they couldn't fit any more food on the table, the waiter found room to slide in another two plates. In disbelief, the woman uttered, "We can't possibly eat all of this."

"What does it matter? Besides," he said putting his hand on her thigh and gripping tightly, "You're going to need the energy for later."

Looking down at his hand, she immediately recanted, "In that case, I'll have one of everything on the menu."

He gave her a wide smile and they began to eat. When DJ saw she hadn't tried something he liked, he'd put it on her plate and insist she eat it. At first it didn't bother her, but the problem was DJ… liked all the food.

"Try this," he said of about eight different things. He'd throw it onto her plate even if she was already eating something else. Then, he'd watch her to make sure she took a bite from it. He started to get on her nerves.

"I can't eat anymore," she pleaded with him. Yet, he'd put the food on her plate regardless. After a while, she had to hit his hand to keep him from adding more food, as he conceded. Being a fighter, her boss made sure to feed her plenty of calories, but it never tasted good. This food was delicious. Still, she didn't want to fill her belly to the point of sluggishness.

DJ on the other hand was a bottomless pit. He made sure to take a bite from every plate on the table. She wondered if he wasn't used to eating his fill on Canto Bight. When she'd first met him, he looked as though he'd been living without a roof over his head, let alone the money to eat. Yet he didn't eat like someone who was starved. He ate like someone refined. He didn't inhale the food, instead he took meticulous bites and then chewed on them for at least a full minute. He took his time to savor everything. He was truly a man of patience.

When the waiter came over to take away some of the dishes, DJ glowered at him with the evilest evil eye she'd ever seen.

"Ignore him," she advised the waiter, handing him some of the plates. He did, though DJ still held onto one plate of steak he insisted he was going to try. Taking a break, he finally sat back in his seat with his hands behind his head. The woman leaned back and shut her eyes. Her belly was full and she felt truly relaxed. For a while she rested her eyes, enjoying the sounds of murmuring and punches from behind her, the smell of fire and delicious food, and especially DJ's quiet warmth. She dared to feel free, relaxed and at ease.

"Don't think I could sleep knowing you're so close to me but not in my arms," he nonchalantly said, picking up his knife and fork again.

Opening her eyes, she looked over at him with a bewildered stare. He had said it as though it were nothing. He cut into his steak like he hadn't just admitted something extremely sweet. She'd never been one for intimacy (especially after sex), but with DJ the idea didn't make her uncomfortable. That unsettled her more than anything. Luckily, the woman knew how to roll with the punches. She had to remind herself she truly liked DJ. It was just a matter of calming her fears. Feeling adventurous, she had an idea.

"With the way you look at me," she said putting her hand on his leg. That caught his attention, and he dropped his fork, watching her, "I didn't take you for someone interested in cuddling."

He looked back to his steak with a small smirk. Then, he wiped his mouth with his napkin. Taking a sip from his wine, he pushed his plate away. She thought for a second he was going to ignore her. But then he turned to her with a raised half smile she'd never seen before, and a fiery gaze she recognized as lust. He removed her hand from his leg, clutching it tightly in his grasp. Something seemed to come over him, as his cheerfulness turned to a smarmy charm. "Ooh, I love to cuddle," he said wrapping his arm around her waist, and putting his other hand on her bare leg. "But I don't think you want me to be tender, do you?" He whispered in her ear, sliding his hand up her leg. She instinctively clenched her thighs together and he forcefully wedged his hand between them. She held her breath. The only thing she could focus on was his hand under her skirt. His lips brushed up against her ear, and she shivered. His breath sent a chill from her ear to her neck, and then down her entire body.

Politely, he leaned away to give her some space, but still held on to her. Looking her up and down, his eyes imagined what was underneath the dress. Her resolve weakened under the spell of his gaze.

After a moment, he moved his hand from her thigh as he turned back to his food. His eyes still dark and burning he glanced back at her to see if she had anything to say. She didn't. This was new territory for her. She didn't really know how to react to someone like DJ. As much as she enjoyed his teasing, she was beginning to lose patience with it.

He grinned at her apprehension, taking a suggestive bite of the steak. She forced herself to look out the window to avoid the lustful plunge of her thoughts, but when she looked to the sea it only reminded her of the rolling covers in a bed.

DJ pushed his plate away, and laced his fingers in his lap. "The warrior t-t-trusting me, a thief, with her body. Allowing me to take her power away," he said with a chuckle. She could feel her heartbeat in her ears as he finished, "I look forward to it."

But although his voice had conveyed an absolution, he still stared out the window avoiding her gaze. When she looked at his hands, they were clenched tightly together, almost as though he were trying to force them to stay in his lap and not go elsewhere.

He had never hidden his desire from her, but the game they were playing was usually spoken without words. He had admitted what they had seen in each other's eyes since the beginning. There were no mischievous or honey tongued phrases this time. He had spoken earnestly about what he wanted, and finally she saw her chance to move forward.

"Then, let's go," she said plainly.

His eyes darted to hers, not anticipating her eagerness. Strange, considering she was always eager around him. He relaxed, his heavy eyes looking tired again. He rubbed them, and then took her hands in his. Examining her fingers, he removed the bandage on her cut. The cut on her finger had closed, and when he saw this, he pulled out a few coins from his coat and tossed them on the table as the bench swung back around. Pulling her by the hand, he got up from the bench. His eyes now narrow and focused, he looked back at her. He was practically glaring. She followed him, and they walked back to the ship, hand in hand.