Brian schooled his features into a pleasant smile as he politely rapped on the door. To be honest, this visit was more spontaneous then he would have liked but with circumstances being what they were it couldn't be helped. And frankly, considering how long he'd been on the case, trying different approaches might just help resolve things. It certainly was something to consider.
Heavy footfalls on the other side of the door drew him out of his offhand musings and Brian straightened, mentally running through the questions that wouldn't cause too much suspicion and yet still serve to answer what wasn't known. He was reasonably certain that he could pull this off, confidence and sheer nerve having stood him in good stead before.
And so, when the door swung open to reveal what could only be Joan's father Brian understandably faltered. He forgave himself for that hesitance just as quickly however. A normal person would have been picking their jaw off the floor and dislodging their heart from their throat. Mr. Smith was absolutely devastating, and it wasn't because he was reasonably attractive either. Wearing only a pair of ragged shorts he was preoccupied with toweling his dark hair dry, which gave Brian some time to recover. Not that it was being used in such a fashion. Once more the young agent assessed the person in front of him with an intense stare, noting the scars and callused hands. And if perhaps there was a markedly heavy emphasis of his survey on the physical fitness of the man's body, well he was only being through. And really, who could ignore wayward droplets that really had no business clinging to a form that had been so long out of the shower?
As though aware of the gaze Mr. Smith looked up, somewhat sheepishly. Twinkling grey eyes danced with inwardly directed humor. Gunmetal grey, Brian absently noted. Like those of a warrior. He shook his head a little, as if to clear that odd thought. They really were rather expressive though, and seemed to enhance his natural aura of friendliness. That openness inspired a twinge of guilt for something that had yet to happen. Brian honestly felt a bit bad about what he was about to do, which was both troubling and something of a novel feeling. After all, it wasn't like him to overly sympathize with suspects no matter how innocent they seemed and yet...
“Well, hello. Can I help you with something?”
Oh yeeessss, his libido purred before any logical thought presented itself. Fighting the blush that threatened to color his visage, Brian noted that an uncharacteristically long silence had passed from when he first knocked to presently. He cleared his throat and stammered, “Um, hi. I was just looking for Fe-Fernando.” At least he sounded like the part he was made to play even if that had not been the intent.
“And you are?” There was a shift in the way Mr. Smith held himself, almost as if bracing for something, though his voice maintained it's former amiable tone. But then he tilted his head, a speculative gleam present from within his eyes and for a second Brian almost felt as if he knew which would be patently absurd. Still, this spurred the young man to reach for composure.
“A friend of his. Brian Hahnel. I'm new to the town.” He would have offered a hand but decided not to risk it. Mr. Smith was still staring and had not made a movement to welcome him inside or observe the social custom. After a shade too long to be proper, Mr. Smith finally stepped back and gestured for him to enter. “He hasn't been by for awhile. I was kind of wondering if you would know why this was so.”
Unable to completely mask his consternation Brian followed the older man into the kitchen.