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Ensign Ross - Splitting up's always a plan

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So many great shore leave scenes happening on Ops at the moment, but as a fan of the Film Noir genre, this one between @Evan Ross and @Corey Wethern has especially got me hooked!

((Holosuite - Flamingo Club))

Thick, heavy drops of water dripping from every roof and canopy - the weather was incredibly atmospheric. Perfectly fitting for a noir crime story. But the thing with rain was also this: it crept under your collar and made you shiver, no matter if holo or real. Ross shrugged and buried his chin deeply into his collar while listening to Corey's plan. Maybe it wasn't too bad after all to live on a station with artificial weather. He regretted not taking a hat. 

Wethern: Hmm maybe I can cause a distraction let you do a little bit of
digging with the high class clientele.

Ross: Remember tonight's the night. All the big names from town are in
for the annual Poker. If her husband is really such a gambler, he
wouldn't miss this for sure.

Wethern: You think he has just skipped the broad to win his hand at cards?

Ross: All I'm saying is - if he doesn't show, something's wrong. But maybe his wife's just overly worried and we'll meet him at the big table. 

Wethern: I don't know, she seemed pretty sure. Anyway slick lets go
inside, this rain is making me more slippery than a Ferengi.

Ross chuckled and shook his head at that remark - and then decided to stay in character. 

Ross: You're speaking in riddles, my friend. 

Corey approached the door as the bouncer nodded obviously recognising Ross.

Bouncer: You here to lose more money Ross?

Ross: ::grimacing:: You bet. I see you more than my wife these days. 

The bouncer laughed and Corey slipped some cash in his pocket as he
dutifully opened the red velvet rope.
The Down Under Club greeted them with the usual smokey air - the sombre voice from the lonely singer lulled them into a perfume fuelled trance and Ross immediately took a deep breath as if he was about to drown. 

Wethern: ::to a waitress:: Scotch neat please, and make it a double.
::Turning back to Ross:: What now slick? We are in your world.

Ross: ::gazing through the room:: You should keep your head down. Once they take you for a cop they will think you're patrolling or something. Maybe stay at the bar, keep an eye on the ladies.
He winked, but was only half-joking - at the other side of the counter, two younger women were sitting and sticking their heads together. No matter how bored they looked - he was sure they knew exactly what was going on in the room. 
Wethern: ? 
Ross: Please try to stay low, pal.
Wethern: ? 
Ross tipped his head, straightened his wet hair and turned towards one of the smaller Poker tables, by now buzzing with excitement. 
((Short Timeskip))
A little while later he was deep into a round of Poker, his hand not looking particularly good - but he wasn't here for the game anyways, or at least he tried to tell himself that. Next to him sat a sturdy man with a moustache that didn't seem much happier.
Ross: No luck? 
Grisham: Eh. Bleeding. Bet those cards are rigged anyways. 
Ross: You think so? 
Grisham: Club isn't the same anymore. Can't trust these crooks nowadays. 
Ross sank back into his chair, waving lightly in order to call the bet. He was almost out of his self-set limits. Always the same.
Ross: A lot of trouble lately, I hear. Haven't seen Horace in a while.
Grisham: Ha! ::chuffing:: Horace, you say? 
Ross: Heard anything?
Grisham: You haven't? Big trouble. With them guys from the backdoors. Wait - ::narrowing his eyes:: You're not with the cops, are ya, son? 
Ross: Come on. 
He chuckled, but it was time to end this conversation. He was on thin ice already - and his chips were nearly gone. The ante was way too high - in various ways. He slid a few chips over the table towards his new friend, pocketing what was left, and turned to return to Corey at the bar.
Ross: So? What do you make of this? 
Wethern: ? 
Ensign Evan Ross
Intelligence Officer
StarBase 118 Ops
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