INARA KNOWS SHE’S BEAUTIFUL. it isn’t vanity; she’s told often enough, not just by clients, but by friends, colleagues, strangers. isn’t it her job to appear this way? didn’t the natural beauty she was blessed with since birth somewhat qualify her to enter the companion house, in the first place? for these reasons, the comment isn’t received with any bashfulness; it’s taken exactly how it’s given, a statement of fact, a basic observation.
she only wishes that she’d known about this collector before choosing to stray so far from the ship.
his movement, however, is something that may elicit some shyness — in her professional role, she’s used to being the one to guide, always retaining an element of control over the situation. out in the open, in public, she is not shielded by job contracts and the illusory world a companion strives to build; this is real life, as much as their facade of romance can be taken as such.
❝ so you’re here to confront him? ❞ her protection may not last as long as she’d like, if that’s the case. if he draws the bar owner’s attention to fulfil his own contractual obligations, she’s sure to get drawn in somehow if she sticks around.
turning her head to look back over her shoulder, she’s ever the picture of a lady’s flirtation, even the seduction of her lover. of course she doesn’t move her hips back to his, nor lean her head back to reveal an expanse of neck to welcome the attention of his lips, but passers-by may be fooled into thinking such things were about to occur ( happily, it allows her expression to remain one of seriousness without attracting suspicion — there’s a hope that they’ll take it to be sultry, rather than concerned ). all this façade, and they don’t even know each other’s names.
a person, perhaps, if he’s in the habit of kidnapping random women from the streets. and, if that’s the case… the altruistic side to inara would be battling the side that hates complications, and would probably win. maybe she can help him, in return.
Had he known her better, he may question the tone in her question. He may tease her, wondering if it was fueled by jealousy - based on her assumption of what was taken. But that could also be that he stretched the truth - it was something taken from him by his employer. Something he was keen to get back that it was hoped to remain out of his grasp. But he he doesn’t know her, doesn’t know the way her mind works, her intentions, or her profession. Though he would not be surprised to learn that companions were here. That the owner probably used them to entice customers, keep them coming back - it was a more legal route to cover his tracks should the establishment be raided.
Bucky is amused, however, at how well she is playing her part; but the man behind her is, by all rights, a ghost story - recognizable by his metal arm that is hidden beneath a coat and glove.
“He took a memory.”
And a rather important one at that - or so it had been alluded to be. There is hope that it is a key to unlock his past, and its importance is evident in the tone of his voice. It’s almost shy, hesitant, because he had long ago had hope beaten from him. But if there was a chance - however small - to end the headaches, or get clarification on the faces in his dreams at night, he would take it.
This was his DEFECTION.
Gently, he takes her wrist in his hand, the tips of gloved fingers pressed against her pulse to feel it.
“I can get you out first if I need to.”