"Eric Fuoco," he repeated when she asked his name, and grinned with a nonchalant shrug. "What you call dirty, I call effective. It got the rest of those simpletons out of my way so that we could have this nice little chat." He opened the bottle and poured out two glasses of the quality rum, then lifted his own. He swirled it idly as he regarded the woman keenly, taking in her amused smirk and the sharp awareness of her eyes.<br/><br/>He let the 'kid' remark slide by, because she was cute, though if she was older than him, it was by fewer years than he had fingers. "So, what do they call you?" he asked airily before taking his first sip of his drink. "And how do we get the technicalities out of the way so that we can get the party started?"