And John's gaze flicked down again, unconsciously, before he realised what he was doing - and tightened his jaw for a second when he did realise. He hated getting played - and he kind of liked it, as well: there was something enjoyable about meeting someone else who was in on the whole game, you know?

"...Guess I will," he murmured, wryly, after the shame of discovery washed through him and there was only amusement left. Gesturing to the nearby bar, he eased himself up on the stool. "So, I'll be having a scotch, neat, and the oddity here will be having whatever she wants," he told the bar tender, taking out his wallet and peering inside. Oh thank god for having been a super villain: the money tucked away in bank accounts came in pretty fucking handy in times like these.