The immediate sight of her date had Faye hesitating. He was dressed in a way that didn't quite seem to fit the time, in a dress shirt that couldn't have been comfortable in the island heat, and with shoes so polished that she was pretty sure she could see her own reflection in them, if she tried hard enough. Perhaps all of that came part and parcel with his wanting to impress her, flowers and French and all, and certainly Faye planned on going with the flow for as long as she could (the idea of being romanced, at least, was nice), but the slight press of her lips, even as they curved into a grin, was laced with skepticism.

"Why, thank you," she quietly replied, making sure to keep the tone of her voice soft, her lashes fanning over skin as she took the bouquet and leaned in to catch the scent. If he was going all out, then so would she. But the demure femininity didn't quite extend to her eyes, which were still sparkling with amusement and mischief alike, as she glanced up at him again. "You shouldn't have. Felix, right?"

She stepped towards the entrance of the Winchester, wondering if he'd intercept and open the door first. "Call me Faye."