The mention of 'her' has her slinking further back into the wall, cursing just quietly under her breath. And she thought she'd been discreet on this one. Still, she's pleased to hear she's making a name for herself, and the fact it's apparently enough to make the men slink off makes her smirk. Not entirely a loss, then.

She peers carefully around the corner as she watches the gang make their exit, and the other guy leave in the opposite direction. No handover, at least. That buys her some time.

As the alleyway clears of her targets, her attention is instead drawn back to the man who almost ruined her weeks of work. He seems unfazed, which only makes him all the more unusual. Normal civilians wouldn't react like that after facing down a group of armed criminals, so this man is either brave, mad, or dangerous. Or perhaps all three.

It's time to find out just who the hell he thinks he is.

With her gun still in hand, she steps out of the shadows, one long leg first. Silently, her heels graze over the coarse ground, dress hem just about skimming the black puddles that linger from this morning's shower. As she approaches, the sequins of her dress glisten in the low light of the lamp, as does the pistol she's carrying by her side.

He's still got his back to her, which is handy. She does like surprises.

"Lucky, indeed," she suddenly says, a smokey voice in his ear, a warm sound to contrast the cold gun that strokes delicately at his temple. "With those guys, you don't normally get a second chance."

And there's something in her voice that implies that might be the case here if he doesn't play his cards right.