Once again refreshed, and having taken a moment to tidy his bedroom back to a state of ten-out-of-ten cleanliness in preparation for a future battle of sorts with Scipio, Tim walked out of his quarters and started towards the stairs. He slowed when he passed by the "Human" door next to his. May as well check in on her. Assuming she'll even open her door. He rapped in a random, rhythmic pattern on the door and set to waiting.

Shortly after, the door opened a crack, exposing a single blue eye that peeked through. Emma pulled the door open the rest of the way immediately, and a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "My, Mister Storm, how nice to see you again," she said, standing with her hands clasped at her middle in a way that subtly emphasized the ten-out-of-ten cleavage revealed by the V-neck of her dress.

Tim met her smile with one of his own. Damn, she looks incredible. "You look a little different than I remember," he said.

Her slight smile became a slightly coy smile, and she leaned forward a little. "Oh? Have I changed for the better, would you say?"

"Could be," he said. His smile became a grin as hers similarly widened, and he again felt like he was losing himself in her beauty.

"Won't you come in for a short while?" she asked, stepping back and gesturing into her room. "I'd hoped to speak with you. Assuming you've the time, naturally."

"Hm, I suppose I can spare a minute or two," Tim allowed. Time to try and figure out what her deal is. And maybe not just that…

"I'm afraid I'll make for a poor host, given the circumstances," she said as he followed her in, allowing the door to shut behind him. "Nonetheless, welcome, Mister Storm."

Emma's quarters were distinctly different from his. Instead of the muted colors and spartan furnishings, her rooms were palatial, with a vaulted ceiling, gold embroidery on the backs and sides of soft-looking, plush chairs and a matching sofa, an even softer, gold-colored carpet that felt like it was massaging his bare feet with each step, and even a heroic-looking statue of bronze in one corner, all lit by a gentle radiance that didn't seem to be coming from any one spot.

"Wow," Tim said as he looked around. "This is…" His gaze returned to his hostess, who was standing in the center of the room, looking more captivating than the ten-out-of-ten room surrounding her. She really is just distractingly beautiful.

"Won't you sit?" she asked after a moment. She turned around and strutted to the sofa, where she swept a hand under her tight dress before taking a seat. She angled herself towards him and reached over to pat a spot near the other end. "Come now. I'd hoped to inquire a smidge, if I might, and perhaps to find some manner of commonality between us."

He shrugged. "Alright, what were you wanting to inquire on?" he asked as he meandered across the room, taking in some of the details as he went, such as the much smaller, untouched bed he noted through the doorway to the bedroom. He sat down in a controlled manner, rather than falling back onto the cushion like he might have with someone else, and gradually reclined.

She reached up and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear, continuing to sit perfectly upright with her hands resting in her lap. "To begin with, I'd be delighted if you'd speak with me regarding your battle. Or have you had more than one, Mister Storm?"

"Call me Drake," Tim said.

Her lips curved up into another small smile. "I shall, Drake."

He couldn't help but smile a little in response at hearing her say his name. "My battle was…" Her exact words came back to him, and he tilted his head. "More than one?"

She nodded once. "I've competed twice as of now."

Tim blinked. "Really? I only fought once."

Emma raised a finger to her lips, and her nine-point-nine brows descended a small amount. "How intriguing. And, if I might further inquire, how much time remains until your second battle?"

"I…" He frowned. "I was going to try asking you that, actually. But…"

"Yes, that would prove troublesome for me to answer," she mused. Her smile returned, this time a broad, sly one. "However."

"However…" Tim gave her an expectant look.

The blonde woman leaned forward, holding her hands together on her knees. "However, I've a method that will allow you to determine it with ease. And I'm willing to share it with you."

"But you want something," he reasoned.

"What? No, I'd never!" she said, taking on a wounded expression as she leaned away. "We've not had the chance to truly acquaint ourselves with one another, I'm aware, but if you've already formed such a poor opinion of me as to believe that I'd…" She cast her gaze down at her hands and pressed her lips together.

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"Well, maybe we should fix that then," Tim said. I still can't really tell if she's up to something or being genuine. "Why don't you tell me a little about yourself?"

She looked up to meet his eyes after a moment, her brow furrowing and eyes narrowing into a near-glare. "If you're truly of a mind to be forthright with me, then I'll accept the invitation, but if this is some attempt to patronize me, I'd prefer you leave. I'll answer your request in either case, as I've no wish for you to perish from arriving unprepared to your bout."

Maybe I was wrong. She really seems pissed at the idea of being humored. "I think it's important we all try to get to know each…" He paused. "Well, almost all." He flashed her a smile that was a Drake Storm ten-out-of-ten. "I would like to get to know you better though, Emma."

She continued staring at him in silence for a long enough amount of time that he began to feel uncomfortable, as though he was sitting before a school principal who was waiting for him to admit to some misdeed. At last, her expression softened somewhat. "My apologies, Drake," she said, averting her eyes. "It seems I've accused you of a matter of which I've become guilty."

"How about we start over," Tim suggested while maintaining his friendly smile. "Sound good?"

Her eyes swung back towards him, and a small, relieved smile played over her face. "It's a pleasant suggestion indeed, thank you." She paused for a moment before she regained some of her previous poise. "In the spirit of starting anew, I'll begin with the answer to your question if you've no urgent tasks which require your attention." She rose smoothly to her feet and started across the room, leaving the subtle, lingering scent of perfume as she passed by. "I'd imagine you'll encounter some difficulty with time until we've sorted that matter," she said with one eyebrow arched towards him.

"You really know how to find out?" he asked.

"That I do," she said, standing next to the door. She beckoned to him with one hand as she grasped the door's handle with the other. "If you'll follow me, I'll reveal it to you."

"Alright, I appreciate it," he said. He stood and walked over, filing out behind her when she pulled the door open and exited into the hallway to the right. Damn, she's got a really great butt too. It's unfair for one woman to be this beautiful. He moved his eyes away from the slight wiggle of her eleven-out-of-ten hips just as they reached the door to his rooms.

"If you'll permit me to enter?" she said with a questioning look over her pale, bared shoulder.

"Sure, go ahead." He watched as she pushed the door open and walked in with some amount of caution evident.

"Oh my, Drake, this is…" Emma took several steps inside and looked around in confusion. "Well, it's somewhat dreary, seems an apt description."

Tim chuckled and followed her in, leaving the door open for the time being. "I like it. Comfortable enough to be relaxing while I'm here but not so decadent that I'm tempted to stay longer than I need to."

"Ah, so you're a man afraid of succumbing to temptation, Drake?" she said as she walked lightly in her heels across the carpet towards the tall clock in the corner.

"Not especially," he said as his eyes traced the curve of her neck into her golden tresses. "I'm good at prioritizing."

"I've a mind to feel flattered that you've prioritized spending time with me more highly than other matters," she said, flashing him a demure smile over the side of her shoulder. "If you'll examine this timepiece, however, I believe you'll find the answer to your earlier inquiry."

Her position of standing incredibly close to the clock required that he stand equally close in order to look over her shoulder at the face of the clock, which was near its base rather than its top. The faint scent of her perfume again reached his nose, and it was a pleasant smell that he found himself wanting more of. His focus wavered, flicking from the softly-ticking clock to the soft, flawless skin of the exposed shoulder in front of him, then trailing up to a delicate-looking ear and turning to other matters entirely.

"Drake," she said after a moment, breaking him out of a brief, but especially vivid fantasy and crossing her arms beneath her inviting cleavage, "tell me, what do you see?" she looked back up into his eyes with expectation.

"Well," Tim said slowly. She is flirting with me, isn't she? I can't even imagine what she'd be like in bed. He took a deep breath, moving his gaze from her eyes to the clock. "It's an inverted clock. And it has…" He frowned as he inspected it more thoroughly for the first time. "It doesn't have the right number of hours."

"Quite right," Emma said. She pointed down at the clock's face with one smooth, bared arm. "I've a much smaller one in my quarters. Yours has a total of six markings, which indicates that you've a total of six hours prior to your next battle. The hour hand has already wound around to here, which suggests…" she looked back up at him once more.

"About three hours left," he said. That's clever. I was so focused on training that I didn't think to take a closer look at this thing. "Simple enough."

"Indeed," she said, now turning around and striding slowly towards the armchair at the other end of the room. "I'd never request you forego any preparations you require in order to triumph in your coming match, but three hours is quite a lot of time," she said as she trailed her fingers along the chair's gray back. "Would you care to sit and speak with me for a short while?"

"Sure," Tim said with his friendly smile restored. "What—"

"Splendid," Emma interrupted with one of her signature small smiles. "I…" She pressed her lips together in amusement for a moment. "I've the hope you'll not think less of me, Drake, but you'd come upon me when I was sampling some of the wines I'd discovered earlier. Would you mind terribly if I retrieved one to sip while we converse? Naturally you need not feel obligated to join me, but—"

"No, no, it's fine," he said, giving a wave of his hand. "I'll try some. Do you have cups, or should I grab some?"

"I must confess that I've absconded with a number of glasses as a contingency," she said, her smile turning mischievous.

"Don't worry, Emma, I won't tell anyone," Tim said with a finger held to his mouth.

"How gallant," she said, accompanied by the slightest of giggles. "I'll return presently." She turned towards the door and started out, glancing at him out of the corners of her eyes as she departed with a widening grin.

Tim met her gaze with a grin of his own. Yeah, this is much more normal. There's actual chemistry here. I'll just keep going slow and she'll be taking that dress off for me in no time.