Faolan shifts uneasily, swirling his drink in his glass somewhat and raising it to take a sip (to buy himself more time to answer, really). What does he do? Well, he's a Night Council Guardian these days, although obviously he can't just say that. He glances to Lancelot as he rises and leaves him to defend himself against the other man's curiosity. Of course he would, though.

"This and that," he answers at last. "I've been a private investigator, for the most part." He glances across at the other man, trying to determine whether this will be an acceptable answer or not (he's willing to bet not, but given the choice between this, the truth, and the fact that he's just finished up a stint as someone's personal bodyguard, it's probably the best that he can do).

He shrugs, feeling as though he'd like nothing more than to climb into his glass and not come out. "It pays the bills. More or less."