The collected coins glint as they weave in and out of Finch's deft fingers, an old magician's trick making them glide over his knuckles and disappear into the dark spaces in between movements. Now that her attention is on Finch, he's more assured in his initial assessment that attempting to slyly liberate her from her belongings would only end in Finch's belongings -- e.g. his fingers -- being liberated from his person. Her face is flat, but something glitters under her hood that gives the impression of danger.
Her sharp words only widen Finch's interested grin, curving it into something intrigued and sharklike in its own regard. "Are you impressed?" He questions in response, knowing for absolute certain that she is completely not. He doesn't think she's going to rat him out to the law, not in a place like this, but with a witness bears danger and she doesn't seem like the type to fall for his roguish flirtations. Call it a hunch. Of course, it doesn't mean he won't try.
It's not a particularly impressive night, nor some of his most particularly impressive thievery. The marks are half-drunk and separated from their wits. A waltzing elephant could probably lift the wallets from some of these fellows and they would be none the wiser. If she's truly as sharp-edged as she appears, Finch cannot blame her for the flat look that she levels at him. Still, a living is a living, and not everyone has the luck or the intimidation factor to sweep tables at cards. And how else was he supposed to keep his hands warm on a night like this? He had to keep them warm somehow, and the best way to do that was to rest them in some pockets. Not necessarily his pockets, though.
"I have no doubt you could do better," Finch says smoothly, easy and charming. The coins flash across his knuckles one last time before they disappear back into his pocket. "However, I was not aiming to be impressive. That," He winked again, eyes sparkling, "Is just an added bonus."
Her sharp words only widen Finch's interested grin, curving it into something intrigued and sharklike in its own regard. "Are you impressed?" He questions in response, knowing for absolute certain that she is completely not. He doesn't think she's going to rat him out to the law, not in a place like this, but with a witness bears danger and she doesn't seem like the type to fall for his roguish flirtations. Call it a hunch. Of course, it doesn't mean he won't try.
It's not a particularly impressive night, nor some of his most particularly impressive thievery. The marks are half-drunk and separated from their wits. A waltzing elephant could probably lift the wallets from some of these fellows and they would be none the wiser. If she's truly as sharp-edged as she appears, Finch cannot blame her for the flat look that she levels at him. Still, a living is a living, and not everyone has the luck or the intimidation factor to sweep tables at cards. And how else was he supposed to keep his hands warm on a night like this? He had to keep them warm somehow, and the best way to do that was to rest them in some pockets. Not necessarily his pockets, though.
"I have no doubt you could do better," Finch says smoothly, easy and charming. The coins flash across his knuckles one last time before they disappear back into his pocket. "However, I was not aiming to be impressive. That," He winked again, eyes sparkling, "Is just an added bonus."
