The blond didn't turn, didn't acknowledge her sly approach... but that didn't mean he was aware of it.

He sipped the tasteless wine, tongue sliding over his teeth, silently shuffling through faces, trying to place her. ...The memories were vague, but he remembered her from the arena. She'd passed through Tomorrowland once or twice and he'd been aware of her in a distant, non-interest, sort of way.

Not a threat. Not particularly useful.

Red and gold flashed, peeking from under the dark lenses, when she suddenly reached out.

"'I am,'" he corrected dryly.