Hanzo responds with a shake of his head and a low chuckle. "It certainly wouldn't seem so at first glance," he says, setting his back aside, locking the door securely, and starting to cross the quite towards Hana, "either at the room, or at the hotel bill so far." The casual chiding of his voice was in sharp contrast to the reaction he felt to hearing Hana's voice, and seeing her, the shape of her lithe, young body only barely obscured by her clothing. He was far from the first man to have trouble tearing his eyes away from the girl's figure when she wore the meka suit that seemed all but painted onto her, but he knew how privileged he was to be able to know her without a stitch on at all.

He picked up an open bottle of champagne and shook his head again. "You could at least have saved me some, little girl," Hanzo said with playful disapproval, before giving one of Hana's firm cheeks, shorts taut against their curve, a quick, light swat.

"So what excuse did you give for needing the next few days off?" Hanzo asked pleasantly, his hand continuing to rest on that cheek as he spoke.