She laughs and sips at her wine.
"Oh, you are too kind. Too kind indeed." She paces, stands in front of the seated Badger.
He grins and refills her glass. "No, I mean it. With bone structure like that you could be a model. I hate that new advert for Fruity Oaty Bars; the woman in it looks malnourished. Why would I eat something that clearly hasn't got enough calories to stop my cheeks sinking into my face? I prefer a woman with a bit of flesh, you know."
"Really?" She grins, unwraps the lacy shawl from her shoulders and drops it to the floor behind her. "Like this?" With the shawl gone, a tight red top emphasises her cleavage, her tight trousers the curve of her behind.
He reaches out and caresses her buttocks. She makes no move to stop him, simply giggles. Badger tugs at her and she ends up perched on his lap.
"You smell so good," Badger whispers, closing his eyes. He's had her frisked, and she isn't carrying any weapons. It's been so long and he wants this so badly.
"Oil of lavender," she whispers back, running her hands though his hair, pulling his head to rest upon her breasts. "Very expensive out here."
Badger inhales the scent. "River," he whispers. "That's such a pretty name."
"I know." She lifts his head, one manicured fingernail digging ever so slightly into his chin. "Kiss me, Badger. I can't bear to wait any longer."
He presses his lips to hers as she leans over. There's a brief moment of ecstasy and then Badger's eyes roll back in his head and he goes limp.
Yo-Saff-Bridge-iver stands and wipes her lips on her sleeve. She goes to his desk and finds the locked drawer, quickly breaking open the lock and taking the small box that is inside. All the while she fakes noises of passion to ensure no-one disturbs them.
Then she pulls one strap of her vest top down from her shoulder, musses up her hair some more. She wraps the box up in her shawl and staggers out, feigning drunkenness and post-coital bliss as she passes the guards.
Several streets away, she thrusts the box at the man in the shadows. "Here. Now we're even, Reynolds."
"I don't think so," Malcolm says. "I haven't left you naked anywhere yet."
She smiles, tips her head, thrusting her breasts forward seductively. "We could get naked."
"How stupid do you think I am? Don't answer that. Thanks, Saffron. I'm sure we'll cross paths again one day."
Saffron watches as he walks away, joined by Jayne and Zoë. She has no chance of tricking him this time.
She reaches into her boot, takes out and reapplies the lipstick, then heads out to find another mark.