Since Marcus had already spent the last hour and a half waiting at the airport for the arrival of his teammates, he really didn't feel like spending more time in the airports gift shop and he'd already emptied his tanks long before their plane had arrived. So instead he made his way towards the briefing room after stowing his bags away on the plane itself. He wasn't positive, but he had a feeling the stewardess of the airplane was checking him out, she just seemed to watch him with a smile on her face the entire time he was putting his things away and it made him feel slightly uncomfortable. He was used to flirtation and being on the receiving end of it, but the stewardess was either shy or something because she just stood there smiling at him, only answering his questions with one or two word answers.<br/><br/>Needless to say he got off of the plane as quickly as possible and several moments later found himself walking into the briefing room, seeing that nobody had arrived yet he immediately headed for what looked to be the most comfortable of the chairs surrounding the long rectangular table. He pulled the sword sheathe from his back and laid upon the table infront of him, leaning back into the cushions of the chair and making himself comfortable.<br/><br/>He watched as Mea was the next person to walk into the room, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips once again. He had a feeling that she didn't dress up this often, simply from the way Yousef was watching her and then himself with anger, and he began to wonder if she had dressed this way for Marcus or if it just happened to be a coincidence. He watched as she moved towards the chair next to him, rotating in his own chair so that he could face her with a friendly smile on his lips. "Alright since we're basically going to be living together for the duration of this mission, I just have one rule.... you touch my last pop-tart and you die...." He said in a playful tone as the smile grew into a wide grin.<br/><br/>He watched as the rest of the team members walked into the briefing room, Gerad looking just as he had earlier, and Yousef looking even more heated and worked up than before. He let out a soft sigh and shook his head as his icy blues went to the table infront of him. Something was going to have to happen or change with him and Yousef or this mission was going to fail before it even started. He couldn't have an overgrown child with a grade-school crush blowing up on him just because he was conversing with the object of Yousef's affection. Loose cannons always caught others in their crossfire.<br/><br/>He leaned back in his chair as he waited for the meeting to begin, his right hand slipping into one of the many pockets lining his legs and withdrew a three-inch long throwing knife and began to idly spin it across his fingers, walking it in rapid spins from fore, to middle, to ring, to pinky and then in reverse with practiced precision. He was growing restless, bored, he was spending too much time in anticipation and now that they were close to beginning this mission, it was playing across the foreground of his mind with even more intensity. He was ready for something to happen...