If Cross were alive, he might shudder. Or break into a sweat. As it stands, he simply watches the pair pass. Trying to discern the source of the scent coming off them, gaze lingering on their drinks. Until they've installed themselves at their table. Then he turns to the Reeve.
2 successes
"No," he replies. "Can't say that I do."
Dead, blue eyes drift from Ale to the couple and back again.
"But maybe we should make their acquaintance?" A scarred eyebrow is arched in Alessandra's direction. After all, it's not everyday you encounter a couple of Breathers smelling like that and still walking on two feet.
The Burned Man leaves it up to the Reeve however. She outranks him here and he's not about to run off half-cocked.