GENTLEMAN SLEUTH.

it’s time to rewatch masterpiece spy kids (2001) 

AND  THERE’S  HIS  CUE  .  while  shawky  never  wants  to  babble  on  endlessly  ,  he  is  far  too  consumed  in  his  excitement  to  keep  himself  restrained  .  occasionally  glancing  back  at  benoit  ,  shawky  explains  the  hieroglyphs  ,  fingertips  ghosting  across  symbols  he  could  reach  .  after  what  must  be  ages  ,  he  finally  finishes  his  enthusiastic  ramblings  ,  grinning  back  at  benoit  with  a  sparkle  in  his  eye  .  ❝  … and  that’s  the  story  of  the  invasion  of  egypt  by  the  king  of  nubia  .  fascinating  stuff  .  ❞

❝  WHAT  DO  YOU  KNOW  OF  EGYPT  ?  this  isn’t  your  first  visit  ,  i’d  imagine  .  ❞  finally  backing  up  ,  he  stands  alongside  his  companion  and  crosses  his  arms  .  ❝  and  what  do  you  think  of  the  trip  so  far  ?  this  cruise  was  a  great  idea  .  i’m  glad  you  invited  me  .  though  i’m  surprised                         was  i  your  first  choice  ?  ❞

benoit makes an effort to listen, if only because he had asked for it. resigning himself to silence, his eyes accompany the hieroglyphs that pertained to shawky's narration, a crease upon his brow as he assimilated the story. it was not boring, at least. something worth keeping in mind, he imagines. knowledge was never exceeding any limits he could think of.  ❛  hm.  ❜   murmurs the detective, a non-committal noise.   ❛  indeed.  ❜  despite the word being one of agreement, it takes much the same tone as his hum.  

how she’d have liked to have seen the shift in his expression upon her touching his leg ,   but still having to maintain 𝚃𝙷𝙾𝚂𝙴 𝙳𝙸𝚂𝙰𝙵𝙵𝙴𝙲𝚃𝙴𝙳 𝙰𝙸𝚁𝚂 means she’d ensured her visible attentions were firmly elsewhere  —  namely the specials that their steward reeled off and to whom she’d issue her order .     naturally ,   the glass of wine on her left too shall find itself restored soon enough .

once it’s Blanc’s turn ,   her gaze returns to his ,   there being a minute shift in her expression upon his   ( somewhat )   covert reciprocation of her own affections  ;    it’s subtle ,   the kind most might not notice ,   but Lady Croft knew he surely must ,   be it in the fractional upturn of her lips or the way her chin rises just a tad .          ❛  that will be all ,   thank you .  ❜          her voice doesn’t waver .

unaware of their spectators   ( though unlikely to have cared at any rate )   whom watched the shifting table cloth with a pair of increasingly SCANDALISED expressions ,   the Countess’ foot lowered down the Sleuth’s leg so as to quietly slip her shoe off .     then ,   swathed in its silk stocking ,   her foot returned its attentions to his ankle before rising further up his leg .

❛  how long do you suppose your case shall be keeping you in Istanbul ?  ❜     she asked ,   pausing just short of his knee .

one thing he had failed to detect about the lady croft was how unapologetic she was over getting what she wanted. or, rather, what he'd failed to predict was how deep her determination ran. yet one more thing about her that blanc admired, and in this one particular stance, enjoyed very much. 

it's impossible for him to drag his eyes away from her, even in the presence of the steward. his fascination was such that he did not fail to notice even the most subtle changes of her features; the different shape of her lips, the angle of her chin. his own eyes darkened while drinking in the sight, finding that he'd been parched until that moment. 

he feels the unmistakable touch of silk against his leg, knowing she must have rid herself of that extra layer between them provided by her shoe. blanc would have called off the dinner right now if he wasn't so taken with the game. he gives her this move, knees moving further apart by a few inches. 

‘Oh yes, because remaining suspended midair after jumping is no where near as far fetched’. Her lips curve in a quick smile, and she shakes her head slightly. ‘You mustn’t care that much if someone sees you, if that’s the best you can do’. 

her eyes rolled at his attempt to rush her as ,   carefully so as not to cause a tear ,   stockings were stretched up her legs and girdle was zipped to hug her hips .     clearly ,   the process of getting dressed with quite so many layers was hardly ever going to be a quick task ,   each of which the sleuth had certainly gotten more INTIMATELY FAMILIAR with than was precisely appropriate .

soon ,   though perhaps not soon enough for the other’s liking ,   feet are slipped into a pair of shoes and glasses are left to dangle from their chain around her neck ,   the finishing touches before she makes for the cabin exit ,   she decidedly leading the charge after quite firmly enquiring  ;          ❛  well ?  ❜

it really was a testament to his fondness for her how patient he was being. his foot only tapped lightly against the room's floor. normally, he'd be much louder in the action. or not have hung about to wait for her at all.  alas, there he was, being a perfect gentleman. 

and before he opens his mouth to break that illusion altogether and call for her attention again, she appears and takes the lead. he smiles silently to himself as the woman charges ahead, her back to him.  ❛  well.  ❜   he replies, catching up to her and giving her outfit a once-over.  ❛  very nice colour.  ❜  he compliments, not before picking up his step and leading them towards the place he'd been informed the body would be at.  

She laughs, unable to deny that she enjoys the easiness between them. It’s rather remarkable, considering she knows he’s not who he says he is. Not that he knows that, of course. ‘She’s always a little threatened by pretty people’. Her eyebrows shoot up at his words, and her smile turns somewhat sly. ‘Oh? You must be an excellent liar, then’. She reaches into her bag, making a show of searching for her phone, retrieving her Agatha Christie novel and placing it on the table beside her as she does. ‘I could use a little help with my poker face’, she says, finally retrieving her phone and pulling up her calendar. ‘If you wouldn’t mind showing me’.