Trixie shot Sal a light smirk and a wink as he he glared at her, shifting to get comfortable. The tattoo artist didn't seem phased by the odd request, shaking his head at the offer of a drawing and sitting in his chair to work on a sketch. Trixie was giving Sal a narrow-eyed look. "Since when are you American?" She asked sarcastically.

He nodded, more time to sit in mild terror but at least he didn't have to do much. He looked back to her at the sound of her voice. "Since I decided-" mid sentence he switched, just because, "-zumtimes its not zat éasy to undairstand ze francias accént." He gave her a look.

Trixie rolled her eyes at him and stood, walking behind his chair and looking down at him. "You're such a show off." She grinned, tilting her head down at him and starting to quietly toy with some of the curls in his hair. It was done almost absentmindedly, without asking.

Sal followed her with his eyes, even as she walked behind him, he tipped his head up to look at her, squinting and bringing his eyes back down to the artist beside him. Surprisingly reassured by the playing with his hair. Apparently he just needed a little affirmation. "How is that?" He pressed teasingly.

"You and your random little French accent-ness." Trix huffed, gently winding one of his curls around her finger, watching it when she released the lock of hair and let it fall back to his head. "It hurts less than you're anxiousness does." She promised softly, bringing her gaze up to the tattoo artist. She continued to gently toy with his curls, faintly raking her nails along his scalp.

Sal giggled quietly and fidgeted with his hands on his chest. "It miight. Or I'm perfectly reasonable." He turned his nose up. The Tattoo artist intercepted with a slight smile and handed him the tablet to check out the sketch. TA "It's not any worse than being scratched by a cat." He assured. Sal remained quiet for a moment. "Yeah, I like that a lot." A galloping horse atop an anvil, heading toward the horn. He handed the device back, and before long the sketch turned into a final product and it was going on his arm. He pulled it out of the sleeve and leaned over the rest for it. The artist stuck an outline of it on his arm temporary tattoo style, and then out came the ink gun. He rested his head on the chair as he felt nerves creeping in.

"You? Reasonable? Funny, Sally." Trixie mocked, grinning down at him and then popping down in the free chair next to the table. She leaned over the opposite arm rest for a moment to look at the sketch, grinning. She watched the rest of the process in interest, mainly for his reactions. She reached lightly for his hand when all was almost said and about to be done, intertwining her fingers with his lightly. When she had gotten her first tattoo, she sure as hell wished she had someones hand to hold. So, she figured he might just be the same way.