he who hesitates is toast

Busan glitters like a disco ball in the night, and no one gives them a second glance as they stroll through the fish market, Sharon in her white dress on Ross's arm, the rest of the team behind them. "Sophia," she says, warmly, and exchanges air kisses with the woman, her pink visor and plastic apron both bright. She knows to expect them, and after she pats Sharon fondly on the cheek, she nods them through.

They spread out through the casino, the team's voices low in her ear. She stays by Ross, playing the part of arm candy, applauding when he wins and consoling him when he loses.

There's no sign of Klaue yet, and the metal briefcase full of diamonds stays locked to the wrist of one of the other agents. "I'm going to get a drink," Sharon murmurs to Ross, and makes her way through the crowd to the bar. 

The martinis here are fine, but not as good as Nat's.