[Giovanni knows the space is occupied the moment they walk inside, can hear him, smell him (similar surface-level scents to Jack, actually, though beneath that there are the unique identifiers every person has, something distinctly different from the man who'd brought him here), and he looks up a moment before Tim emerges, expression impassive if slightly wry, lips curled in the hint of a smile--
--and then he sees him. It's not surprise, not exactly, he's too well-trained for that, but there's a slight lift of one pale blond brow, a vague shift in the angles of his face that betray the fact that this is something entirely unexpected. Almost, he wants to laugh. This man, this body double, he's no relation of Jack's, that much he can discern from the scent of him and yet here he is, surface-level identical down to the very last detail.
And then there's the way Jack handles him, doesn't quite address him-- there's something in those small signals that tells him the other man is entirely at his beck and call, and he wonders, vaguely, just how he fell into such an unfortunate position. Just what Jack has on him. Nothing good, he's sure of that.
But he listens attentively as Jack talks, clearly discerns the difference in tone, the order he's just been given. He looks from Jack to...not-Jack, and then back again. Slowly nods.]
no subject
--and then he sees him. It's not surprise, not exactly, he's too well-trained for that, but there's a slight lift of one pale blond brow, a vague shift in the angles of his face that betray the fact that this is something entirely unexpected. Almost, he wants to laugh. This man, this body double, he's no relation of Jack's, that much he can discern from the scent of him and yet here he is, surface-level identical down to the very last detail.
And then there's the way Jack handles him, doesn't quite address him-- there's something in those small signals that tells him the other man is entirely at his beck and call, and he wonders, vaguely, just how he fell into such an unfortunate position. Just what Jack has on him. Nothing good, he's sure of that.
But he listens attentively as Jack talks, clearly discerns the difference in tone, the order he's just been given. He looks from Jack to...not-Jack, and then back again. Slowly nods.]
Yes, Sir. Crystal.
[He doesn't so much as question it.]