2013.09.01 - Swinging on the High Seas

After finishing her brief texting with Leo, Fern finishes getting dressed, putting the finishing touches on before going to meet Justin on deck. Her latest thrift shop find is a strapless halter dress, rich sky blue with a brown and gold paisley pattern. The dress hits an inch or two above her knees, the skirt swingy and light. She wears brown sandals, again opting for a heel instead of her usual flats, and there's a blue stone bracelet around her left ankle. Her right wrist bears the chunky bracelet that covers the fading bruise, and a silver locket necklace rests against the skin below her throat. Casual hair, light make-up, and she's ready to go. The young waitress emerges onto deck, pausing once more to look around at the boat in quiet wonder. Afternoon is giving way to evening, cooler air taking the scorch off the sun-filled day, and soon there will be a beautiful sunset.

Justin is waiting on deck when Fern emerges. He too has changed, having forgone the 'casual' slacks and polo shirt for one of his classic suits. This one is dark grey with a faint silver pinstripe, and a blue, black and silver tie that has a pattern in it that, coincidentally, somewhat matches Fern's dress. The CEO is talking with Jack when he catches movement and turns to look toward the young woman. There's a very obvious pause before he speaks, and his expression clearly relays his thoughts. Damn. "Evening Miss Fern," he offers after a moment, face breaking into a smile. "We'll be pulling into Nantucket here in just a few minutes."

Fern does a full turn, looking around, until her eyes settle on Justin, her smile broad and warm. "Good evening, Mister Hammer," she says with a quickly sketched curtsey. She eyes the suit, being obvious about it as she steps toward him. "Well, at least I can say I got you out of your suit for a few hours," she quips, not really thinking about all the possible meanings that might be gleaned from that phrasing. "You look very handsome in that suit. It... suits you." There's a giggle as she amuses herself, and as she steps up beside him to watch the shore near, she loops her arm with his. "It's going to be a beautiful night."

"Well, I figured that if I was going to take you out to a nice dinner I should dress for the occassion," Justin returns, though he does arch a brow at the comment. He even went so far as to shave the almost ever-present 5-o'clock shadow he usually sports. Hammer grins at the compliment, though he shakes his head ever so slightly at the bad pun. Fern was right, she does love the puns. Seeming far more at ease with her contact, he doesn't flinch when she hooks arms with him. "Looks like it. We're lucking out with the weather this weekend." Jack barely manages to bite back a chuckle, and it shows with the tiniest grin on his face as he takes a step away from the pair.

While they had a bit of a discussion of where to eat tonight, Justin made the final decision, and Fern was his rapt audience as he called a popular, heavily booked restaurant and got them a table just by saying his name. "I can't believe you got us a reservation. This restaurant was on one of those food channels." Her voice is touched with excitement and his arm gets a light squeeze. "I'm gonna have to buy you a heck of a lot of hot dogs and coffee to make up for this," she teases.

If there's one thing Justin likes, it's flaunting his power and connections. And that's exactly what he got to do by getting the pair a reservation at the well-known seafood place right on the docks. "Sometimes being a big-shot CEO has it's advantages," he replies with a haughty air that's only somewhat joking. He shakes his head at the idea that Fern would possibly owe him for this, even if she is teasing. "No need to make up for anything. It's my pleasure- far nicer to eat at a famous restaurant that's been on television with a pretty redhead on your arm." He glances down toward her to gauge her reaction to the comment.

The yacht captain guides the boat into the docks at Nantucket, the first mate tying the boat down and setting up the boarding plank. Once the boat is secured, Justin leads Fern down off the deck and onto the docks. They are moored close to the restaurant, and it's only a short walk away.

The comment brings her grin on in full force, and Fern shoots back, "Well, it's more fun eating hot dogs and coffee with a handsome CEO for company, so I guess that puts us about even there." She watches every move the first mate makes getting they ready to disembark, leaning to whisper to Justin before moving, "I think this is what a movie star must feel like." She lets go of his arm and steps away when the first mate gives the go ahead, but once on the dock she turns and waits for Justin to link arms again, falling into step beside him. Redhead on his arm he shall have. They get a few looks from tourists and locals alike, curiosity natural about who arrived on the sleek yacht.

It's no secret that Hammer is a bit of an attention whore. He thoroughly enjoys every look they get as he walks his 'date' up to the restaurant. "I hope I'm not spoiling ya," he says as they make their way up the dock, "So when you break into the big time things like this won't be as fun." When they reach their destination, Justin doesn't even have to give his name- the host at the front podium recognizes him, greeting him by name and leading the pair to a table next to the windows with an amazing view. The host pulls out the chair for Fern before Justin gets a chance to (for once he would have actually remembered to do such a thing), and the CEO sits at the same time the waitress does. As predicted, the sunset that is forming is shaping up to be an amazing one, with splashes of gold, orange, rose and blue.

"I think things like this will always be shiny," Fern says simply. She notices the looks as well, and doesn't entirely hate it. After all, it's Justin getting the attention and recognition, and she's perfectly alright with that, she knows that he's proud of what he's accomplished. She actually gasps at the beautiful view, blushing lightly as she sits but thanking the host for such a wonderful table. When he steps away, assuring that their server will be over in just a moment for their drink order, Fern looks across the table to Justin. Her wide-eyed wonder has been almost a constant look for her since he picked her up this morning. "Justin, this is.... amazing."

The CEO is still grinning broadly. It's rare that he actually makes someone genuinely happy- most of the time people are just trying to use him for something. Plus, there's no little hint of showing off, either. "Glad you like it," he offers, looking out the window. "Miguel also recommended it, he apparently knows one of the chefs here. Said we would be treated well." It isn't long before the waitress comes by for the drink orders. Justin orders a glass of wine, as he usually does.

Even though she's only known Justin's chef a few hours, Fern says with confidence, "Then I'm sure the food is even better than I can imagine." She pauses a moment, biting her bottom lip as she thinks about a drink, deciding to go ahead and splurge. "I'd like something tropical," she says with a nod, "Maybe something with coconut rum? It's the end of summer, might as well go out with a bang." The waitress assures Fern that she knows just the drink, leaving them at the table again.

"Wow, goin' wild, huh?" Justin jokes. He's only seen Fern drink one other time, and that was the charity event on Friday. He somewhat rethinks his choice in drink, but decides that if he wants something else, he'll order it after dinner. "So, boat ride, fancy dinner, what else do you want to do on this trip?" he asks, leaning back in his chair and lacing his fingers together across his stomach.

"I know you'll get me home safely," Fern grins, wrinkling her nose at Justin. To his lean back, she leans forward, elbows on the table and chin cradled in one hand. "You said you'd take me dancing." So maybe she's using a little creative license in her memory of that particular conversation, which amounted to Justin declining the idea of dancing. Her eyes sparkle as she waits to see what he'll do with that blatant fib.

There's a raised brow. Yep, he caught the white lie. "Dancing?" Justin asks with a slightly reserved look on his face. If Fern presses it, he won't say no, however. "I don't really dance..." He trails off as the drinks are dropped off at the table. The reappearance of the waitress prompts him to sit up and pick up his menu to look it over. "Like I said, the Expo thing was just sort of a fluke thing."

The is most definitely a smirk on Fern's face, and she doesn't reply to Justin's repeat of his protest immediately. Instead she smiles a thank you to the waitress, then reaches and takes up her glass with both hands. It's a stemmed hurricane glass, looking like something out of a magazine, the concoction inside primarily white, but swirled with red, and perfectly slushy. "See how you like that," the waitress says with a smile. "It's called a Lava Flow. Rum, strawberries, banana, pineapple juice and coconut cream." She waits with an expectant look while Fern takes a sip on the straw. Fern nods approvingly almost as soon as the flavor hits her tongue, putting the glass down. "Yes, that's exactly what I wanted." She glances at Justin, then stage whispers to the waitress, "He'll have one, too." Then she looks at Justin directly, the smirk back. "Oh, we'll see about the dancing." She retrieves the other menu, still looking at him over the top as she opens it.

And now Justin is getting something besides his wine, whether he wanted it or not. Not that he's really opposed to sweet drinks like that, he just doesn't get them often. The waitress heads off to put in the new order, and Justin takes up his wine glass. "You're trying to get me liquored up, aren't you?" he asks the redhead with a smirk before turning his eyes back down toward the menu. "Ya know, you keep this up, people are gonna start talking."

All at once, Fern looks completely crestfallen, smile disappearing, bare shoulders dropping as she looks balefully across the table at Justin. "Aw, you're on to me. I was only hoping that you wouldn't realize until I had you good and drunk." There's a beat, and her smile is back. While it's not been displayed much to Justin, she's actually got the acting talent and is really just lacking that break. "I think we both deserve a night to just unwind. And people will talk no matter what, and they can say whatever they please. Who cares about them?"

Justin actually looks worried for a moment, then he catches on. Yeah, the gal is good at acting. There's a snorted chuckle. "Alright, alright," the CEO lays the menu down on the table and holds his hands up in a surrendering gesture. "Dancing it is, then." He knows he won't be able to win against Fern, so he gives up the fight early on. Laying his hands down on the table he looks outside again. "I guess it'll be interesting to see what the society pages say about it come Tuesday. Apparently, according to some, we're already dating, so what can it hurt?"

Fern reaches for her drink again, sliding it across the table until it's in front of her, leaning in to drink through the straw. She tries not to look smug when Justin finally relents, but somehow doesn't manage to pull that one off. Her brows lift at Justin's words, but her surprise seems to be mild. "We are? I wish someone would have told me. When's our anniversary?" She takes another quick sip, then admonishes her 'date' lightly, "You better get me flowers." Clearly, she's not taking gossip very seriously.

OK, at least Justin hasn't misjudged Fern like he had Jazmin. For a little bit there, he had to wonder. Especially with the way Warren seemed to think they were dating. "I didn't get the memo either," he replies in a falsely nonchalant tone. He starts to say something, stops short, then nods. "And note to self- get flowers." The waitress returns with the second Lava Flow, and to take orders. "I'll have the local swordfish with a side of the potatoes," Hammer tells the waitress handing the menu to her once she's taken down the order.

"I like the fall daisies, the pretty ones that are red and orange and yellow," Fern informs Justin lightly, having fun with the moment. She gives a last look at the menu, and makes her decision. "The scallops with broccoli rabe, please," is requested with a smile as she surrenders her menu as well. Another drink buys Fern a moment for the waitress to retreat, before she leans in and hisses to Justin, "I don't have any idea what broccoli rabe is, do you know?" She's going through her drink at a good pace, just about half through already.

Justin samples the drink that Fern ordered for him. It's really sweet, but he doesn't complain. It'll fill in for having his desert first. "Huh, not bad," he comments on the drink. "And Rabe is a leafy green vegetable. It's a bit bitter." He notes how far gone Fern's drink is, and leans back lightly. There's a slight look of thought on his face as he looks back out toward the sunset and the water.

This time the frown is real, but it's thoughtful and not really displeased. "Well, I do like to try new things, so it's all part of our adventure." Fern shrugs lightly, unwilling to let anything take away from their pleasant evening. Not even scary vegetables. She leans for another sip, head dipping, but her eyes lift to Justin as he looks out the window. Even though he's in a business suit, he looks less tense, not as tightly wound as he has for the past couple weeks. She pauses to swallow, lick the coconut flavor from her lips, and then says, "Penny for your thoughts. Or has the price gone up?"

"Inflation's a bitch," Justin says look back at Fern when she addresses him. Despite the harsh words his tone is light and his expression matches. "It's been a while since I've been out this way. Have you ever been up here before? To Nantucket, that is?" That could have been what he was thinking about, or it could have been a subject change. Hard to tell.

"I've never really been much of anywhere," Fern admits, "We didn't do a lot of traveling, though we did drive to Utah to visit family one summer." She goes into probably more detail than she normally would, the rum loosening her tongue even more than usual. By the time their meal is brought, she's ready for another drink, and by the time they're finished eating that drink is gone, too. The food is delicious, and Fern tries to entice Justin into swapping plates for a few bites, so they can each try both meals.

Justin listens and replies during the meal. He finishes off his drink, plus most of his wine, and even agrees to sharing some of his food with the young redhead. He avoids the rabe, though, already knowing that he's not fond of it. The potatoes, though, are fair game. Through the whole thing Justin seems to remain pretty relaxed, talking back and forth with his 'date'. After the meal is finished, he takes up his wine glass and drinks what's left. "That was pretty good, Miguel sure didn't steer us wrong."

Fern's brows shoot up in disbelief as she blots her lips with her napkin, then folds it, setting it on the table next to her mostly empty plate. So, now she knows not to order broccoli rabe again. "Pretty good?" she asks incredulously. "Anita's food is pretty good. This was food heaven." Her voice stays low, at least she still governs her volume after a couple drinks. Not being much of a drinker plays against her, but the meal they had works in her favor, so she's tipsy but not full out drunk. And a little giggly. "You're so spoiled, Justin Hammer."

Justin draws up a false look of indignation. "Moi? Spoiled? I think, Miss Fiddlehead, you're mistaken there." Unlike Fern, the first thing that goes on Justin when he starts getting buzzed is his volume control. A curse of being naturally obnoxious. Luckily he's not much worse than normal. "Though I am worried that, after things such as this, you're no longer going to want to go get hotdogs or waffle cones and you're going to end up a lot more expensive to date." His words are accented with various different hand movements, which also become more noticeable as the alcohol increases.

The smile on Fern's lips softens, and she looks indulgently across at Justin, "I will never lose my love of hot dogs and waffle cones, or free rides on the ferry, for that matter." When the waitress brings the check, leaving it for Justin with a smile, Fern sips from her water glass. As the woman fades away once more, Fern grins at Justin. "So I'll always be affordable to date."

"Good," Justin replies with a sharp nod. "Because one doesn't get to be a billionaire by spending needlessly." He picks up the check, glancing it over, then pulls out his wallet. The meal, and a hefty tip, are left in cash. "So, by your own admission, then, I guess we are dating." He looks at his empty wine glass, thinks, then decides he'll wait to get something else when he's back on the boat, if then.

Fern's hand drifts up and she absently toys with the locket around her neck, "I thought that had been decided for us already by outside forces. Remember, you're buying me flowers on our anniversary? Did I mention I like the fall daisies?" She might be just a little forgetful when she has a couple drinks in her, too. She doesn't try and see the amount of the bill, nor what he tips, but smiles across the table. "Wanna walk me home, billionaire? I think I can spare you the dancing tonight, but that doesn't mean you're off the hook."

Justin tries not to look relieved about getting out of dancing. "Daisies, got it," he says as he stands. He offers Fern a hand in a surprisingly gentlemanly gesture. "Guess we should figure out when our anniversary is then, so that I can have Jack write it down, then I'll forget it, and get reminded at the last minute and accidentally order lilies instead of daisies and end up in the doghouse." The way that's said, it could be based on a true story as much as a prediction of the future.

He doesn't entirely succeed, and it only makes Fern smile wider as she reaches up and puts her hand in his, standing as well. "Oh, I would forgive you for getting the wrong flowers. It's the gesture that counts, after all." She pauses, looking up at him, "Even if Jack will have to remind you." Her head tilts and she looks at Justin thoughtfully. "Maybe I ought to just date Jack?" she suggests with a giggle. She takes the lead toward the door, not releasing Justin's hand, giving a last smile and grateful thank you to the host as they pass him by.

That takes Justin off guard and he stops, blinking a couple times. A tug on his hand by Fern is what gets him moving toward the door. "Jack? Really? He's got to be thirty years older than you. Good to know you won't hold my mistakes against me, though. Already better than..." He trails off as the walk out of the restaurant and back onto the dock. The sunset has mostly faded out, only a hint of light lining the horizon. Away from the light pollution of New York, the stars are shining brightly.

Once they're back out into the fresh air, Fern resumes her habit of linking her arm with Justin's as they walk, although now she holds on just a tiny bit more tightly. Her nose is kind of tingly, and it makes her giggle for no apparent reason. "Everyone makes mistakes, Justin. Even people who aren't entirely human." Not quite content with just the one armed hold, Fern's other hand comes up to rest on Justin's arm. She pauses for a step or two, then ventures, "Better than...?"

''Aren't entirely human? What does that have to do with anything?'' Justin puzzles over those words for a moment, then gets another tough question. Damn it, he needs to learn to not say things before he says them. He's terrible at that. "Oh, better than my ex," he says quickly, looking up and out toward the yacht they're heading toward. "So who do you know who's not entirely human?" Whatever oddity that he picked up from Leo at the Expo presentation that the werewolf tried to crash comes back to the forefront of his mind.

Fern mmmm's softly at the answer, a sound of understanding. "Better is a relative thing. It's more like... just different." Now it's her turn to wish she knew when not to say things before she says them, and her humor sobers a measure although her intoxication level does not. "Just somebody that I used to know," she says, thankfully not singing the song to serenade Justin as they walk along the dock slowly. She's in no hurry, enjoying the evening, the pleasant buzz and the company. She and Leo haven't had 'the talk' yet, so she has no clue that he's anything but a 'real boy'.

Come to think of it, both of them know non-humans. It's getting harder not to in this day and age, especially in New York. But that's beside the point. Justin shrugs lightly. "Just be careful out there. There are some fols out there that aren't what they appear to be at first glance." Like Justin Hammer doesn't fit that description himself. The young waitress has fallen into thinking he's a good guy, when in fact he can be as lowly and vicious as a lot of the villains that plague the city. That was one of the big reasons he turned Jazmin down- he couldn't risk her accidentally uncovering some of his shadier operations.

"Like strange men who turn into wolves?" Fern questions lightly. There's a touch of humor returned to her voice, so at least that incident.... actually, incidents, haven't traumatized her. She's pretty well able to bounce back, all things considered. They grow 'em tough in the country. There's a slight wobble, making her hang on to Justin more tightly for a moment, and her thoughts wobble too, taking her back to a topic he veered them away from. "How long were you married?"

Of course this was going to come up sooner or later. Still looking toward the boat and not toward Fern, Justin answers pretty flatly. "A little over a year," he replies as he slows to make sure that the redhead is steady on her feet. Tipsy on a boat may not be the best idea. They're almost back to the yacht, and the first mate is visible on deck waiting for their return.

There's concern on Fern's face as she turns her head to look at Justin, his slowed pace making that maneuver possible. "Only a year?" There's a sadness to the question, and she gives his arm a squeeze. "She just wasn't the right one for you, Justin, that's all. The right one is out there." A confidence in that fact replaces the sadness in her tone.

Justin clears his throat, pausing at the end of the ramp that leads to the aft deck of the yacht. There's a lot more to that story, but it's going to take a lot more than a glass of wine and a fruity rum drink to get it out of the man. "Well, back home," he says, forcing a grin and shamelessly changing the subject. He motions toward the ramp with his right hand and waits for Fern to board the boat first.

"Home again, home again, jiggity jig," Fern quotes, her voice a melodic lilt. She steps ahead of Justin, murmuring, "You are such a gentleman." There's no stagger to her step, but there is a lightness, and as soon as she hits the deck she's kicking her shoes off. "How do women walk around in those all day?" she questions no one in particular. The first mate gets her smile, "Thank you for keeping the boat safe." She bends to retrieve her shoes, forgetting to be ladylike in her slight inebriation, hopefully not giving Justin a momentary eyeful of blue knickers.

Justin makes his way up the ramp after Fern. He chuckles some as she lets her reserve down now that they're back on the boat and not in 'public'. He barely misses the unintentional flashing as he turns to speak with the first mate. "Take us out, somewhere with a nice view," he tells the man before looking back toward the redhead. The first mate, who had offered a nod to Fern, now nods to Justin and answers with a quick 'yes sir' before disappearing to the flying bridge to speak with the captain. Justin makes his way over to the bench seat that runs the width of the aft deck lounge and sits down.

With her shoes dangling from two fingers, Fern saunters after Justin, more sure footed without the heels. She probably could have just left the shoes where they were, because she only drops them again in a new spot. It's not quite a flop, but an oddly graceful collapse that settles her next to him, and she tilts her head back. "It's such a beautiful night," she observes. But her stillness only lasts a moment, before she's up again, heading into the lounge where she saw a stereo system. "Do you know how to turn this on?" she calls out to Justin.

Justin watches as Fern sits, then stands again. He stands as well when she calls her question out, walking into the main salon. "Yeah, there's a remote for it here," he offers pulling a drawer open and producing said remote. "It's got satellite radio, plus whatever's in the digital library." He powers up the unit, which is on some classic rock station at a low volume at the moment, then hands Fern the remote.

Admittedly, she asked to see if she could catch him not knowing something about his own boat, and Fern is pleased that he actually does know the vessel at least somewhat better than she had suspected. "What kind of music do you like?" she asks, taking the offered remote, immediately hitting a button and changing the station. It lands on talk radio, obviously not pleasing her to judge by the wrinkle of her nose.

Like he is, Justin's taste in music is eccentric. Just look at what he chose for his Expo demo. "Most anything," he offers with a light shrug. "Though I do have a soft spot for instrumentals." He had no idea he was being tested by being asked about the stereo system. How to actually operate the vessel, he's clueless. The fancy tech toys in the lounge? That he understands.

Fern thumbs the remote, pausing a few moments on each station. Country. Hard rock. Techno. Finally she comes across a disco song, and she looks toward Justin with a gleam in her eyes. "I never said anything about not making you dance in private." She starts her own version of dancing, which involves a good amount of hopping about, light on her feet and enthusiastic. "Dance with me, Justin!" she invites with a giggle.

Disco? Really? Not that Justin would admit to listening to disco, though he sometimes finds himself doing just that. Eccentric music tastes are eccentric. He watches Fern, grinning broadly as she dances to the dated beat and issues the challenge. "Alright, you win," he says, joining the redhead in the open area of the main salon. Like the display at the Expo, most of what he does is foot work, and he's not bad. Perhaps better even, given he's not out in front of thousands about to give a demo that could make or break his company.

Never one to curb her enthusiasm, Fern gives a happy squeak as Justin joins her. Her delight is obvious as she dances around him, encouraging and even, a couple times, mimicking what he's doing. Not quite as well, since they are his moves, but she keeps up fairly well. For her it's just a few minutes of unbridled abandon with a trusted friend, not having to worry about anything, just feeling the music and moving. She takes care that her dress stays where it belongs, as strapless doesn't lend itself entirely well to her style, but there are no wardrobe malfunctions.

It's been years since Justin did something like this. Most of what constitutes as 'fun' for him are events like the charity galas and golf games with high-profile people, which are far more business ventures than fun. Outside of those, it's pretty much just work. So this is quite the change of pace. After several minutes he has to stop and take his suit coat off, tossing it across one of the couches in the salon. He pauses a moment, watching Fern.

The first song has turned into a second, the beat similar so there's no change in Fern's dance. It's like.... the Snoopy dance, in Fern form, joyous and carefree. Her skirt swirls around her thighs as she moves, bare feet padding lightly as she hops and skips and does get in some actual dance moves among the frolicking. When she realizes she's lost her partner Fern does a slow spin, stopping as she spies Justin, calming her dance a bit. "The vest, too," she grins. "It's just us." Well, and an amused Jack who caught a glimpse of the pair flailing around.

Justin blinks and then gives Fern a humorously stern look. "Are you trying to get me to undress now?" he asks. "I swear, woman, alcohol turns you wild." He doesn't give in to her demand this time, deciding to draw the line there. For now, anyway. "You ever swing dance?" Disco isn't the best beat for that, but eh, it can work. Thankfully Jack isn't the kind to take incriminating cell phone photos and sell them to the media, so they're safe for now. The man's probably just relieved that his boss is in a good mood, and the yelling at the staff will be lessened greatly for a bit.

Fern laughs at Justin's modesty, the sound as clear as the night sky. "Have another drink, billionaire," she teases lightly. She almost stops moving as he brings up swing dancing, her brows lifting. "My mom taught me some. We had a lot of family weddings when I was a kid." Now she finally stops, to hold her hands out to Justin, fingers wiggling invitingly. "Impress me." The challenge comes with a wide grin.

Hey, Justin isn't being modest. He just likes his vest. Dammit. Matching Fern's grin, he steps forward, taking her hand. "Prepare to be impressed, then," he says. He takes a moment to get the beat of the song, then takes the lead. He starts out with mostly simple moves, until he gauges how much Fern knows and how well she can move. He's pretty decent with this too, though perhaps a bit rusty.

Fern follows Justin well, the product of good instruction from her mother (Don't anticipate my moves, Fern, trust me to lead you.) and lots of practice with her brothers. Sure, she's a little rusty too, so they work out the kinks together, and Fern nearly dissolves into giggles when she steps on his shoe and he has to catch her. "Sorry," she murmurs, getting right back into the groove. She doesn't watch their feet, either, but keeps her eyes on his face, watching his eyes as well as feeling for signs of where he wants her to go.

"You're good, you're good," Justin offers after the quick apology. He recovers well from having to catch Fern, and manages to stay with the beat. As they start to figure each other out and move more as a team, he starts throwing in a few more moves, including a spin. After all, that's half the fun of this style of dancing, the dramatic movements. The song wraps up, and Justin brings it to an end with one last spin. "So, impressed?" he asks before glancing to the wet bar and pondering another drink.

Fern ends with a flourish that would make any ballroom dance judge give them high marks, then turns to Justin. The dancing has her flushed, pink high in her cheeks, and a light sheen of sweat on her skin. "Yes, I'm impressed," she says honestly, grinning in delight. "I knew you were hiding things from me, Justin Hammer." True words, sure, but she's got no idea, really, how true. Her eyes follow his glance and she looks back at him. "Whatcha gonna make me?"

"Me? Hiding anything? Miss Fiddlehead, I'm insulted," Justin says with mock offense. He walks over to the bar and looks over the offerings. There isn't a lot for mixed drinks, and he's not a very good bartender. "I'm not sure if you need any more of the firewater, young lady," he comments idly. "But if you want, I can have Miguel mix something up for you. Otherwise, it's probably just going to be something and Coke." Because that's as fancy as he gets with drinks.

"Just one more?" Fern wheedles. "I promise I won't drive home. Cross my heart." And she does, the index finger of her right hand swiping twice across her chest, making an X. "Rum and coke? I don't want to mix anything else into it, it'll make me sick in the morning." Tipsy and yet still practical and thinking ahead. "And I have to take two aspirin before I go to bed," she adds.

"As long as you promise not to drive home," Justin comments as he pulls a high-end bottle of rum from the wet bar. He then sets to fixing two drinks- one for Fern and one for himself. Admittedly, he's a bit heavy handed with the balance, but the end result is still alcohol and soda. He hands one of the tumblers to the redhead after turning away from the bar. "So, are you finally sated now that you've seen me dancing?" he asks before taking a sip of his drink.

Fern watches Justin put together their drinks, then takes the one he hands over to her. She takes a quick sip, not even wincing at it's strength, and nods, her head bobbling rapidly. "Yes. And now that I know how good you are, next time it'll be in public." Ha! She reaches over and slides her fingers under his tie, using them to pull it from behind his vest and giving it a flick. "Can we go up and look at the stars?"

"You have a thing against my suit, don't you?" Justin says when Fern pulls at his tie, but he isn't bothered by it. He nods, taking another sip of his drink. "We can retract the awning on the flying bridge," he offers. "After you." He motions toward the staircase that leads up to the flying bridge located forward of the salon. Along with the dining area, there's another seating area that's set up similarly to the aft deck lounge on the flying bridge. Once there it only takes a couple button presses to retract the fiberglass awning from over the flying bridge. The captain and the first mate are both in the enclosed bridge below, leaving the entire open area vacant.

"Your suit is wonderful. I love your suit. But yeah, I like seeing you out of it. You look more relaxed, less ready for a business meeting," Fern says lightly, moving as Justin motions toward the stairs. She gives a happy hop, apparently not quite entirely tired out from the dancing, and scampers up to the next deck. Again, Fern watches him go over and press the buttons, and as the awning pulls back she says, "I'm having a wonderful time. Are you?" She's genuinely concerned that he have as much fun as she's having.

The man chuckles. "You keep saying things like that, I'm gonna get the wrong impression," Justin says lightly. He sits down on the couch after the awning has pulled back and looks upward. He really should get out of the city more often. "Yeah, I am," he answers honestly. "Been a while since I've had a real vacation. Even if it's only a couple days." This is true, even when he ended up in Las Vegas over the 4th it was still technically a business trip. He spent far more time on military bases than in the casinos. "Glad you're enjoying it, Fern. I really am."

Fern wanders over in Justin's wake, sitting next to him, close enough to lean against him lightly as she settles back, looking up at the sky as well. "You're the one who keeps bringing it up," she points out with a giggle, taking another swallow from her drink. Out far enough to be away from all the lights, the sky is dark and speckled with a million stars. "I'm glad you brought me along, Justin. Thank you." She may have already said it, but every time it's been just as sincere and honest. The young waitress draws in a deep breath, letting it out in a contented sigh.