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( continued from here)
Time was a finite gift for a woman like Inara who used it to mostly build connections, spend time with clients and pile on the credits as if her life depended on it. As much as she enjoyed her free time outside of work, it was often limited to practicing her skills, honing her craft for her clients. That was the intense training she had received since she was somewhere between a child and a young woman— but even the most intense of monks took a break or two. It was good for the soul, or at least that was the excuse she used on her single free day on Bellerophon. She was a permanent guest to this particular planet, coming and going to visit a specific client whose tastes ran high and pleasures ran low. She was an extraordinary woman, the kind that drew Inara in so easily and she was a rare exception to some of the clients she had. This particular client held no jealousy or possessive tendencies towards Inara, granting her permission to invite her 'friend' [a rouse, a false name given to protect his identity].
When the day came and Cassian informed her he was near, she made sure to secure the best table she could at this particular restaurant. She was already seated there, a long red dress clinging tightly to her figure, a long shawl around her shoulders and the usual traditional jewelry she often wore around her delicate neck. With a soft smile, she rose up to greet the man— a silent whisper in her mind that she was genuinely glad he showed up and was alive.
"I have to say, I was almost expecting you to bail on me. Glad to see you made it in one piece, please—", she said after gently embracing him and pulling from him to guide her hand towards his seat. "Have a seat, shall we order a cocktail and get the stories rolling? I'm ever so curious."
The moment the maître left them alone — there was a sliding door granting them privacy — Cassian’s entire body language changed. He had been casually arrogant, overlooking the staff, but now like a snake shedding its skin, a weight left his shoulders and he loosened up, looking and sounding more natural as soon as he felt Inara’s embrace, with the brief whiff of shampoo and hair oils and expensive perfume. This was always a glimpse of an unfamiliar world; one he only ever passed through, fleetingly, but which Inara made home.
“You make it sound like I’m a flake. I'm hurt,” Cassian said, mock-affronted, hand pressed to his heart. But he took the seat next to her, rather than opposite — the better to see the exit — and then skimmed the drinks menu, glancing at the specialty cocktails. “A Corellian sunrise for me.”
They might run in different circles, but the Rebellion could always use a crew like Serenity: skilled smugglers, good shots, experienced with weaselling their way through imperial blockades. Old Browncoat attachments, and while her people weren’t exactly official insurgents— they were still sympathetic, and of assistance. The sort you could call in a pinch. Cassian had worked with them a few times, got along with them well enough; liked Inara in particular. His droid liked Wash, for some reason. Funny world.
“I’m honestly just glad to have made it off that forsaken planet alive. I was the only person capable of flying the ship, and they still kept threatening to kill me.”
He was clearly omitting pertinent context, like he always did — details were a need-to-know basis — but he’d share enough to make it funny.
“You make it sound like I’m a flake. I'm hurt,” Cassian said, mock-affronted, hand pressed to his heart. But he took the seat next to her, rather than opposite — the better to see the exit — and then skimmed the drinks menu, glancing at the specialty cocktails. “A Corellian sunrise for me.”
They might run in different circles, but the Rebellion could always use a crew like Serenity: skilled smugglers, good shots, experienced with weaselling their way through imperial blockades. Old Browncoat attachments, and while her people weren’t exactly official insurgents— they were still sympathetic, and of assistance. The sort you could call in a pinch. Cassian had worked with them a few times, got along with them well enough; liked Inara in particular. His droid liked Wash, for some reason. Funny world.
“I’m honestly just glad to have made it off that forsaken planet alive. I was the only person capable of flying the ship, and they still kept threatening to kill me.”
He was clearly omitting pertinent context, like he always did — details were a need-to-know basis — but he’d share enough to make it funny.
Despite the looming wealth and refinery around them, the way he so easily rebutted her words with playful banter kept the mood light and easy. It was enough to make her forget that this moment was a rarity in between the things they did, the lives they had that pulled them in all sorts of directions. The times they managed to be in each other’s presence was mostly saved for missions the entire crew of Serenity was pulled into and while Inara had made it clear to the others she wasn’t to be involved— when it involved Cassian, somehow she got roped in.
“I know you’re not, I’m just happy to see you again.”, she said softly and as they sat together. Although things were light around them, she was quick to note where his attention seemed to be. There would be no comments from her on it because she understood; moments of peace like this, uninterrupted were exceedingly rare even for her now.
At the table, a screen flipped forward allowing her to place the order for their drinks, and as they awaited those, she began to casually peruse the dinner menu. It was a bit of a strange feeling being so normal like this but as soon as he began his story, she turned to face him giving him a quizzical look—
One that clearly indicated she suspected he brought such ire on himself through one way or another.
“Oh? And why exactly did they threaten you so much? Mouthed off to them? Come now, I feel like you’re hiding something.” Still all smiles, she simply laughed as she returned her gaze back to the menu.
“I know you’re not, I’m just happy to see you again.”, she said softly and as they sat together. Although things were light around them, she was quick to note where his attention seemed to be. There would be no comments from her on it because she understood; moments of peace like this, uninterrupted were exceedingly rare even for her now.
At the table, a screen flipped forward allowing her to place the order for their drinks, and as they awaited those, she began to casually peruse the dinner menu. It was a bit of a strange feeling being so normal like this but as soon as he began his story, she turned to face him giving him a quizzical look—
One that clearly indicated she suspected he brought such ire on himself through one way or another.
“Oh? And why exactly did they threaten you so much? Mouthed off to them? Come now, I feel like you’re hiding something.” Still all smiles, she simply laughed as she returned her gaze back to the menu.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m completely innocent.”
There was a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of Cassian’s mouth; the man had a dry, cheeky sense of humour, but sometimes that smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. He purposefully tried to keep things light, fun, noncommittal, but over the time that she’d known him, he often seemed more and more tired, frayed around the edges, a little too-serious and too-focused on his mission. Her Companionship training meant she could easily pick out that tension, written all over him. These interludes were at least an attempt to unwind, to remember how to relax, how to be a person.
A server-droid swung by and dropped off their drinks and some water; tapped from some off-world glacier planet, he couldn’t even imagine the cost, and he took a sip while sorting through the details, considering how much was safe to say.
But all of the people involved were dead, so what did it matter anyway —
“It looked like they’d crash-landed on this jungle planet, with no way off. I happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time,” story of his life, “and they thought I looked suspicious; so they tied me up, wanted to steal my ship, but couldn’t figure out how it worked. There wasn’t enough room to take the whole crew in my ship at once, but none of them trusted each other or me enough to let me leave with some of them.”
A beat and he looked at Inara, considering. Thought experiment time: “What would you have done? Either in my place or theirs.”
There was a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of Cassian’s mouth; the man had a dry, cheeky sense of humour, but sometimes that smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. He purposefully tried to keep things light, fun, noncommittal, but over the time that she’d known him, he often seemed more and more tired, frayed around the edges, a little too-serious and too-focused on his mission. Her Companionship training meant she could easily pick out that tension, written all over him. These interludes were at least an attempt to unwind, to remember how to relax, how to be a person.
A server-droid swung by and dropped off their drinks and some water; tapped from some off-world glacier planet, he couldn’t even imagine the cost, and he took a sip while sorting through the details, considering how much was safe to say.
But all of the people involved were dead, so what did it matter anyway —
“It looked like they’d crash-landed on this jungle planet, with no way off. I happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time,” story of his life, “and they thought I looked suspicious; so they tied me up, wanted to steal my ship, but couldn’t figure out how it worked. There wasn’t enough room to take the whole crew in my ship at once, but none of them trusted each other or me enough to let me leave with some of them.”
A beat and he looked at Inara, considering. Thought experiment time: “What would you have done? Either in my place or theirs.”
It was never difficult for her to sense people’s intentions when the air about them seemed off— with individuals like Saffron it was painfully obvious something was wrong the more she studied her. It was the same way with the man before her, the more time they spent together, the more they spoke— she could just feel his tiredness. There was no doubt in Inara’s mind she could offer him endless comfort and all the things she did for her clients that met their emotional needs (more so than sexual ones), but she was always careful to keep that boundary between them.
No sense in getting caught up in feelings again.
As the drinks came to them, she took her more simple one- red wine and drank from it as she heard his story. It wasn’t rare for people like them to face precarious situations, life and death over a misunderstanding or general distrust. However at his question, she found herself holding the glass to her lips, pondering his question. It was a difficult thing to answer really because he was asking her on the spot—
and being a woman, she would certainly face far more risk than just death. With a soft smile, she set her drink down and leaned back into her seat, giving him a curious glance.
“Always quick to put my mind to work. That certainly is a predicament, I suppose I would have done what you have but given that you know me, you already knew that. As for them…”, she said, finger tapping lightly at the glass.
“I probably would have gotten you to get the ship to work and killed you upon arrival.”
No sense in getting caught up in feelings again.
As the drinks came to them, she took her more simple one- red wine and drank from it as she heard his story. It wasn’t rare for people like them to face precarious situations, life and death over a misunderstanding or general distrust. However at his question, she found herself holding the glass to her lips, pondering his question. It was a difficult thing to answer really because he was asking her on the spot—
and being a woman, she would certainly face far more risk than just death. With a soft smile, she set her drink down and leaned back into her seat, giving him a curious glance.
“Always quick to put my mind to work. That certainly is a predicament, I suppose I would have done what you have but given that you know me, you already knew that. As for them…”, she said, finger tapping lightly at the glass.
“I probably would have gotten you to get the ship to work and killed you upon arrival.”
“Mmhm.” Cassian made an agreeing noise and tilted his glass, examining the way the different liquids blurred into each other like a bloodied sunrise, before taking another sip of the cocktail.
Hers was a callous response, but that meant it was the exact same calculation he’d done for himself at the time. Weighing risks versus benefits, and his chances of getting out of there alive if he played along with the shithead rebels versus not. It was one of the things he appreciated about Inara: she wasn’t some dewy-eyed innocent, shocked and aghast at the realities of the life they had to lead in this galaxy. She’d seen enough ugly things herself. Knew how people worked.
“That’s about what I figured, too. So I kept refusing. Knew my utility would be gone as soon as I taught them how to fly. So I bided my time and turned them further against each other, until they were fully distracted and I could slip away in the scuffle.”
Hers was a callous response, but that meant it was the exact same calculation he’d done for himself at the time. Weighing risks versus benefits, and his chances of getting out of there alive if he played along with the shithead rebels versus not. It was one of the things he appreciated about Inara: she wasn’t some dewy-eyed innocent, shocked and aghast at the realities of the life they had to lead in this galaxy. She’d seen enough ugly things herself. Knew how people worked.
“That’s about what I figured, too. So I kept refusing. Knew my utility would be gone as soon as I taught them how to fly. So I bided my time and turned them further against each other, until they were fully distracted and I could slip away in the scuffle.”
It wasn't difficult for Inara to immediately sense the air between them had become just a bit tense. She couldn't say it was her intent to bring down the mood or say something truly callous but he had asked her for the truth, for her opinion. Was it harsher than it should have been? Perhaps but that was just another indicator of the complexities that made up the Companion—
but she couldn't ruminate in that heaviness for very long. Not when he was a precious guest of hers and she had drawn him all the way out to this place that was far from his 'type'. It was mostly because she was already here but really she did want to treat him to something special. So she nodded at his words, a soft hum escaping her as she pulled the menu and opened it up in front of him. She moved just a bit closer to him, an easy but boundary pushing gesture and then she finally spoke.
"Well it's what I might have done but I'm glad they didn't kill you. So let's celebrate, order whatever you want and if you really want that dessert...", she purred gently, eyes looking up at his, a hint of regret over her words. "Then promise you'll at least share with me."
but she couldn't ruminate in that heaviness for very long. Not when he was a precious guest of hers and she had drawn him all the way out to this place that was far from his 'type'. It was mostly because she was already here but really she did want to treat him to something special. So she nodded at his words, a soft hum escaping her as she pulled the menu and opened it up in front of him. She moved just a bit closer to him, an easy but boundary pushing gesture and then she finally spoke.
"Well it's what I might have done but I'm glad they didn't kill you. So let's celebrate, order whatever you want and if you really want that dessert...", she purred gently, eyes looking up at his, a hint of regret over her words. "Then promise you'll at least share with me."
As Inara settled a little closer, it occurred to him that it was a little hard to tell, sometimes, how much of her behaviour was perfectly-calculated and perfectly-calibrated to put his guard down, to foster intimacy, to put him at his ease with all the tricks at her disposal.
Some people got in their heads about it, had trouble associating with Companions off-the-clock because of it, but Cassian genuinely didn’t mind. He had the same problem, after all: he’d worn this snakeskin for so long that he often struggled remembering what it felt like to just be Cassian, Cass, not the rebel or the soldier or spy or weapon.
“You know me, sweetheart, I always want dessert.” He shifted in his seat to lean in and look at the food menu more closely. He settled on some kind of paella with shellfish particular to Bellerophon’s wide sprawling oceans, and slivers of delicate bruschetta and other small bites for them to share.
“So tell me,” he said a little while later, a flash of teeth and digging into the hors d’ouevres. “What have you been up to? Your turn to share the frustrations.”
Some people got in their heads about it, had trouble associating with Companions off-the-clock because of it, but Cassian genuinely didn’t mind. He had the same problem, after all: he’d worn this snakeskin for so long that he often struggled remembering what it felt like to just be Cassian, Cass, not the rebel or the soldier or spy or weapon.
“You know me, sweetheart, I always want dessert.” He shifted in his seat to lean in and look at the food menu more closely. He settled on some kind of paella with shellfish particular to Bellerophon’s wide sprawling oceans, and slivers of delicate bruschetta and other small bites for them to share.
“So tell me,” he said a little while later, a flash of teeth and digging into the hors d’ouevres. “What have you been up to? Your turn to share the frustrations.”
Much like the first time they met, she simply smiled and rolled her eyes at his little 'sweetheart' comment, not taking much offense to it or viewing it as anything more than playful banter. Inara had always been cautious about just how far she let certain people get with her, finding that given the opportunity, people were more than eager to throw her profession into her face. They viewed it as her simply offering her body to men, to be demeaned and used. People like Cass, whether in his mask or not, understood it to be far more involved than that. She picked her clients like her friends based on energy—
which is why she immediately put in his order and her own— a simple salad with a side of salmon to balance out all the small bites for them to share. She set aside the menu for now, returning her attention to him with as much focus as she could muster. Clearly he was brought here for a reason, and she was going to be as gracious of a host as she could. Even if little by little those boundaries were being pushed.
"Apparently I have to come up with heists for the crew these days. They're not going out to the right planets, where my clients are or new ones could be. Can you believe their last pull was a bunch of dolls?", she said, a slight air of annoyance in her tone. Clearly there was more bothering her, but it was easier to focus on the more trivial matters as she bit into some of the bruschetta, a delicate bite with her teeth, lips curled to avoid smearing her lipstick. It was always in those little movements that showed just how poised and in control she was.
which is why she immediately put in his order and her own— a simple salad with a side of salmon to balance out all the small bites for them to share. She set aside the menu for now, returning her attention to him with as much focus as she could muster. Clearly he was brought here for a reason, and she was going to be as gracious of a host as she could. Even if little by little those boundaries were being pushed.
"Apparently I have to come up with heists for the crew these days. They're not going out to the right planets, where my clients are or new ones could be. Can you believe their last pull was a bunch of dolls?", she said, a slight air of annoyance in her tone. Clearly there was more bothering her, but it was easier to focus on the more trivial matters as she bit into some of the bruschetta, a delicate bite with her teeth, lips curled to avoid smearing her lipstick. It was always in those little movements that showed just how poised and in control she was.
“Literal dolls?” Cassian asked, bemused. It was a funny point of intersection between their otherwise disparate lives: he’d started down this road by doing heists, too. “What, like, to sell on the children’s toy black market? Although,” musing, “I guess if you get enough rich panicked Coreside parents who’d do anything to buy the latest sold-out model…”
Every time the door slid open and the bot checked on them to make sure they didn’t need any refills, he went quiet, busied himself with another sip of his drink, and waited until it left again. Walls had ears.
“Is there ever anything for you to do if you’re out on the outer rim, or is that just a dead zone in terms of clientele?” It was real curiosity asking. It wasn’t like the dusty scrappy people out there could afford Inara’s usual level of care.
Every time the door slid open and the bot checked on them to make sure they didn’t need any refills, he went quiet, busied himself with another sip of his drink, and waited until it left again. Walls had ears.
“Is there ever anything for you to do if you’re out on the outer rim, or is that just a dead zone in terms of clientele?” It was real curiosity asking. It wasn’t like the dusty scrappy people out there could afford Inara’s usual level of care.
"Well they call them 'collectables' but what do I know. Apparently the rich will pay good money for one or two of them.", she said, idly keeping an eye out on the door for when the drone-bot came rolling in to replenish their drinks or bring their order, plate by plate. She wasn't as nervous about being heard given her protected status here, but she was still cautious nonetheless for his sake.
"Certainly not clientele, no. I could use the time to enrich my mind but...", as those words came from her mouth, she lifted up the glass of wine she had, swirling it a bit as she contemplated how she spent her time outside of work. She technically didn't have to work now, being a free-agent of sorts and sourcing her own clients, but she was in desperate need to rack up credits for one reason or another.
"There's only so much reading I can do before I lose my mind. I suppose I could pick up a second job, but there's always danger lurking and I'm not like Mal and Zoe, I can't hold my own when faced with a threat."
"Certainly not clientele, no. I could use the time to enrich my mind but...", as those words came from her mouth, she lifted up the glass of wine she had, swirling it a bit as she contemplated how she spent her time outside of work. She technically didn't have to work now, being a free-agent of sorts and sourcing her own clients, but she was in desperate need to rack up credits for one reason or another.
"There's only so much reading I can do before I lose my mind. I suppose I could pick up a second job, but there's always danger lurking and I'm not like Mal and Zoe, I can't hold my own when faced with a threat."
“I’m sure you can hold your own better than you think.”
Cassian paused, clearly chewing over some lingering thought. The question of whether or not he’d ever invite her to officially join the Rebellion had always been the elephant in the room between them. But the days and months passed and he still hadn’t tried to recruit her. Occasionally one of his superiors floated the idea — we could use someone with Companionship training, captain — but he put his foot down on that particular option. No getting Inara Serra more entangled and imperiled than she already was, with her own existing connections.
But still. The day would probably come when someone wouldn’t be asking, they’d be telling him to recruit her, and he wasn’t sure what he’d do when that happened.
“If…” He tried to decide how to phrase this. “If I come across any compatible names, I could pass them along, if that’d be helpful. What are you after? Client-wise.”
No one Imperial, went without saying.
Cassian paused, clearly chewing over some lingering thought. The question of whether or not he’d ever invite her to officially join the Rebellion had always been the elephant in the room between them. But the days and months passed and he still hadn’t tried to recruit her. Occasionally one of his superiors floated the idea — we could use someone with Companionship training, captain — but he put his foot down on that particular option. No getting Inara Serra more entangled and imperiled than she already was, with her own existing connections.
But still. The day would probably come when someone wouldn’t be asking, they’d be telling him to recruit her, and he wasn’t sure what he’d do when that happened.
“If…” He tried to decide how to phrase this. “If I come across any compatible names, I could pass them along, if that’d be helpful. What are you after? Client-wise.”
No one Imperial, went without saying.
His kind words were enough to silence her as she focused on the incoming food before them. The service was flawless and meticulous as expected of a restaurant of this caliber and a world like this, but she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to just be somewhere more peaceful with Cassian. A blanket on the ground, a simply array of food they prepared and the crew at a distance enjoying themselves. It was desperately selfish to crave simplicity, and yet with each resistance of her own to avoid truly becoming a petty thief like she called the Captain of her crew, it seemed she got dragged further into it.
It was only when he spoke up about her work and offering to provide her names, she looked at him softly pondering how to respond to that. It was a kind gesture in theory but there were so many more strings and attachments to it— frankly it would be inappropriate to use him for that purpose. Even if they wrote it off as him just repaying her for the meal, she was never the kind to want to owe anyone anything. If she offered him a cut of credits in turn, it would lead to a stranger relationship between the two. Far more stranger than being recruited for the Rebellion.
"I'll be fine Cassian, I promise. It's just a lull in work at the moment, but it happens to us all....right? Besides I should be using this time to refine my skills....skills that don't quite involve pleasuring a client.", she said idly, holding her glass slightly tilted, almost as if it were a gun. Surely he got the hint.
It was only when he spoke up about her work and offering to provide her names, she looked at him softly pondering how to respond to that. It was a kind gesture in theory but there were so many more strings and attachments to it— frankly it would be inappropriate to use him for that purpose. Even if they wrote it off as him just repaying her for the meal, she was never the kind to want to owe anyone anything. If she offered him a cut of credits in turn, it would lead to a stranger relationship between the two. Far more stranger than being recruited for the Rebellion.
"I'll be fine Cassian, I promise. It's just a lull in work at the moment, but it happens to us all....right? Besides I should be using this time to refine my skills....skills that don't quite involve pleasuring a client.", she said idly, holding her glass slightly tilted, almost as if it were a gun. Surely he got the hint.
Despite himself, Cassian wound up a little relieved that she’d gracefully declined. Theirs was a fragile network, interlocking webs of names and connections and vetted contacts — it wouldn’t be the worst thing to pass on a name, some senator with money, some friend of the rebellion who could benefit from her attention — but at the end of the day, the Rebellion wanted those friends to spend their money on munitions and supplies. It wasn’t fun, but neither was war.
That tilt of Inara’s glass, however, made him crack a small smile. Isn’t that what you have Captain Reynolds for?— he almost asked it — but managed to bite back the words. By some implicit agreement, he knew to sidle away from the subject of the other man. Every time he’d been in a room with both of them simultaneously, there had been some undefinable complicated tenor and history to their dynamic that he didn’t want to meddle with.
“I could give you lessons, if you want,” Cassian said instead. He rapped his trigger finger, once, twice, against the stem of his own glass. “It’s a useful skill.”
That tilt of Inara’s glass, however, made him crack a small smile. Isn’t that what you have Captain Reynolds for?— he almost asked it — but managed to bite back the words. By some implicit agreement, he knew to sidle away from the subject of the other man. Every time he’d been in a room with both of them simultaneously, there had been some undefinable complicated tenor and history to their dynamic that he didn’t want to meddle with.
“I could give you lessons, if you want,” Cassian said instead. He rapped his trigger finger, once, twice, against the stem of his own glass. “It’s a useful skill.”
( ooc | apologies for the delay, I'm going to be on hiatus until next sunday but I'd love to continue this or something new then. )
It was human nature in a way, for her to refuse to spend any more time with the man who seemed so unsure of what he wanted with her. It was easy for her to turn to him for help, but every turn led to him insulting her line of work with a bitter array of emotions and jealousy he held over her. Her own affections were always in such a delicate limbo— wanting to be loved by him but refusing to accept it as she had her own affections with others elsewhere. She belonged to no one and only wanted to belong where she was genuinely wanted. So those emotions were placed into a box far into the back of her mind and while Cassian didn't need to know the complexities of her relationship with her Captain, she was sure it was in the air. Obvious by how close she was to him, yet close enough to run from him willingly.
"Yes and you could use the credits.", she said, softly lifting her own glass of wine, polishing off the red liquid. No favors, no debts— it was the only way she could retain control over her person, especially with men. Even if Cassian wasn't like that.
"How about it? Private lessons for a willing student and you can finally have a good meal once a day at least." Her voice is teasing of course, but in her own way she did want to help him.
It was human nature in a way, for her to refuse to spend any more time with the man who seemed so unsure of what he wanted with her. It was easy for her to turn to him for help, but every turn led to him insulting her line of work with a bitter array of emotions and jealousy he held over her. Her own affections were always in such a delicate limbo— wanting to be loved by him but refusing to accept it as she had her own affections with others elsewhere. She belonged to no one and only wanted to belong where she was genuinely wanted. So those emotions were placed into a box far into the back of her mind and while Cassian didn't need to know the complexities of her relationship with her Captain, she was sure it was in the air. Obvious by how close she was to him, yet close enough to run from him willingly.
"Yes and you could use the credits.", she said, softly lifting her own glass of wine, polishing off the red liquid. No favors, no debts— it was the only way she could retain control over her person, especially with men. Even if Cassian wasn't like that.
"How about it? Private lessons for a willing student and you can finally have a good meal once a day at least." Her voice is teasing of course, but in her own way she did want to help him.
“Sounds like a good arrangement to me. It’s a deal,” Cassian said with a smile, hand outstretched, a grasp of palm to shake on it.
There were other practical considerations: the way things were going these days, it would be good for Inara to know how to handle a pistol. He wanted her to be safe, and she couldn’t always rely on Cobb or Reynolds or Washburne being nearby to handle all the shooting.
“So long as I’m between jobs, I’m happy to stick around. I could come by tomorrow, if your calendar’s open.”
He’d be here until he was summoned, until leadership needed him, until they tugged on Cassian’s leash and pulled him back to heel. In the meantime, he could be hers.
So their conversation meandered on from there, digging into their hearty meal, eventually the promised dessert, Inara stealing a mischievous bite off his portion. He nudged the plate closer to her. When they parted ways for the evening, he pressed an airy kiss to her cheek, before leaving the restaurant and returning to his ship. He had to radio in with his location, let them know he was going to stick around in this sector, in case they specifically needed someone near Bellerophon.
The next day, late afternoon crawling toward sunset, his ship pulled up to where Inara was staying in luxury, offering a bit more privacy where they could practice in peace. An extended balcony over the water and a tended garden, a decorative stone outcropping where he could line up a handheld projector and row of holo-targets.
The rich, foppish disguise was almost entirely gone now, his tailored jacket shrugged off and slung over a nearby chair. Cassian was even more relaxed in private, finally looking less like a tightly-wound spring. Unholstering his own blaster, he checked its settings were set to stun before he handed it to Inara, his fingers pressed to hers.
“How comfortable are you with a blaster to start with?” he asked. Getting a baseline.
There were other practical considerations: the way things were going these days, it would be good for Inara to know how to handle a pistol. He wanted her to be safe, and she couldn’t always rely on Cobb or Reynolds or Washburne being nearby to handle all the shooting.
“So long as I’m between jobs, I’m happy to stick around. I could come by tomorrow, if your calendar’s open.”
He’d be here until he was summoned, until leadership needed him, until they tugged on Cassian’s leash and pulled him back to heel. In the meantime, he could be hers.
So their conversation meandered on from there, digging into their hearty meal, eventually the promised dessert, Inara stealing a mischievous bite off his portion. He nudged the plate closer to her. When they parted ways for the evening, he pressed an airy kiss to her cheek, before leaving the restaurant and returning to his ship. He had to radio in with his location, let them know he was going to stick around in this sector, in case they specifically needed someone near Bellerophon.
The next day, late afternoon crawling toward sunset, his ship pulled up to where Inara was staying in luxury, offering a bit more privacy where they could practice in peace. An extended balcony over the water and a tended garden, a decorative stone outcropping where he could line up a handheld projector and row of holo-targets.
The rich, foppish disguise was almost entirely gone now, his tailored jacket shrugged off and slung over a nearby chair. Cassian was even more relaxed in private, finally looking less like a tightly-wound spring. Unholstering his own blaster, he checked its settings were set to stun before he handed it to Inara, his fingers pressed to hers.
“How comfortable are you with a blaster to start with?” he asked. Getting a baseline.
When their hands touched to agree upon their new deal, Inara could have sworn his hands lingered far longer than usual— but perhaps even more perplexing to her was just how much she actually enjoyed feeling the warmth of his skin against her own. It was a dangerous thought for a woman like her who was so wrapped up in her own affairs and troubles, so she set it to the side for now, seeming to keep a poker face right on her. What was important now was focusing on what she was hiring him for, their meal, and for the next day.
So the rest of their time together went by in a blurry haze; whatever jokes he pulled, whether or not she stole more than just a few bites of his dessert were left in the dust when the two finally parted ways. She returned to her private quarters, a fancy shindig but despite having everything she needed at hand, she felt there was something missing. Whatever it was, was left to be explored for another time— the morning would bring the two together once more.
"I'm actually quite comfortable with one, I think my aim just needs improvement.", she said, taking the weapon from him with ease. She was dressed more casually than usual, a frilly top and pair of tight slacks for ease of movement. Her long and wavy hair was tightly pulled into a bun, and it was clear she was here to focus on the task at hand. Far from any emotions or sentiments that might have come from their 'dinner' last night.
So the rest of their time together went by in a blurry haze; whatever jokes he pulled, whether or not she stole more than just a few bites of his dessert were left in the dust when the two finally parted ways. She returned to her private quarters, a fancy shindig but despite having everything she needed at hand, she felt there was something missing. Whatever it was, was left to be explored for another time— the morning would bring the two together once more.
"I'm actually quite comfortable with one, I think my aim just needs improvement.", she said, taking the weapon from him with ease. She was dressed more casually than usual, a frilly top and pair of tight slacks for ease of movement. Her long and wavy hair was tightly pulled into a bun, and it was clear she was here to focus on the task at hand. Far from any emotions or sentiments that might have come from their 'dinner' last night.
[ Prompt: Inara receives a web message from H. Crane, a mysterious and private core world art collector and businessman, requesting a preliminary meeting at the next convenient civilized planet she stops at. It's extremely polite and properly worded, making no presumptions, paying her full rate for her time in advance. Other than that, he gives very few details. ]
( after another restless argument with the captain of her ship it seemed inara was just about ready to give up on her line of work and truly turn into a petty thief. smuggling garbage like geisha dolls and costume jewelry was far beneath her, but she had a very specific goal. the onus was truly on her to find ways to visit clients and accumulate them—
though it seemed fortune had smiled upon her today. it had been another hectic day aboard the serenity, the crew was fighting each other for the last can of processed meat with river tormenting anyone who dared divide it in the incorrect fashion. instead of enduring that level of torture, inara decided to return to her own shuttle, the ding of a new message coming in at the same time as her return. after thoroughly inspecting the message, she decided to get to work.
this type of client was far from being out of the ordinary for her but there was something interesting about the fact that he was willing to pay the full rate in advance. that type of customer could mean one of two things— either they were going to be one of the best clients she's had, a repeat contract or they were expecting far more from her because of their 'generosity'. it was a difficult thing for her to determine really, because although she managed herself with the upmost of control and firmness, she wasn't able to predict what she could expect. only basing her expectations off of the behavior of previous clients.
regardless of what was to come, she began her preparations as usual and informed the rest of the crew that her newest client so happened to be conveniently located on a planet only a day away from them. it took some arguing, but the arrangements were made.
—
when the day finally came, she sent her location to her client and began working on creating a very specific ambiance for the man. the lighting in her shuttle was low, shawls draped over lamps and the smell of incense filled the room with both a fragrant smell and a light fog. water for tea was brewing away on a small stovetop, an array of different types of tea spread out on a coffee table for her guest to pick.
all that was left was for the man of the hour to show up, and when he did, inara would be at the door of her shuttle in a long silk dress, gold jewelry adorning her features, and a soft expression on her face. )
though it seemed fortune had smiled upon her today. it had been another hectic day aboard the serenity, the crew was fighting each other for the last can of processed meat with river tormenting anyone who dared divide it in the incorrect fashion. instead of enduring that level of torture, inara decided to return to her own shuttle, the ding of a new message coming in at the same time as her return. after thoroughly inspecting the message, she decided to get to work.
this type of client was far from being out of the ordinary for her but there was something interesting about the fact that he was willing to pay the full rate in advance. that type of customer could mean one of two things— either they were going to be one of the best clients she's had, a repeat contract or they were expecting far more from her because of their 'generosity'. it was a difficult thing for her to determine really, because although she managed herself with the upmost of control and firmness, she wasn't able to predict what she could expect. only basing her expectations off of the behavior of previous clients.
regardless of what was to come, she began her preparations as usual and informed the rest of the crew that her newest client so happened to be conveniently located on a planet only a day away from them. it took some arguing, but the arrangements were made.
—
when the day finally came, she sent her location to her client and began working on creating a very specific ambiance for the man. the lighting in her shuttle was low, shawls draped over lamps and the smell of incense filled the room with both a fragrant smell and a light fog. water for tea was brewing away on a small stovetop, an array of different types of tea spread out on a coffee table for her guest to pick.
all that was left was for the man of the hour to show up, and when he did, inara would be at the door of her shuttle in a long silk dress, gold jewelry adorning her features, and a soft expression on her face. )
[ Harold is nervous. Extremely nervous. It's completely foreign for him to reach out at all, for support or alliance or even to make enemies, frankly. He's a frightfully reserved person who hasn't used his real name since he was seventeen. He's lost-- is everything an exaggeration? It doesn't feel like it.
He can't see Grace again, Nathan is dead, and he can't bear to communicate with the Machine. It had pushed him not to go through with his awful revenge plan on Alicia Corwin, who truly didn't deserve it, was the messenger and not the author... and still Harold couldn't face what he'd made. Not really. He got the output, the irrelevant numbers, and he stared at them stymied from his wheelchair as he tried to muster up the courage to do something, anything, about them.
It's some months later from that point, and he has found some courage. He's done things; he's tried. But he's still so frightfully alone. He's worried that he'll fall back into that same dark place he'd been in when he'd decided to suffocate Alicia Corwin in her own vehicle. Harold hadn't ever thought he had that in himself, and confronting that made him also confront that he was responsible for preventing it from happening again. How close was he to repeating that with some offender he runs across while working the irrelevant numbers? How close was he really? He needs a safe outlet to be sure.
A registered Companion seemed the lesser of all possible evils for spilling his guts. They were famously and notoriously discreet, and the idea of therapy made him feel ill. Harold supports psychotherapy as a practice, of course. He'd encourage anyone else to go. But he knows that counseling will want to have the end goal of him moving on, and...
He doesn't want to.
So he finds himself meeting Inara Serra, someone he'd meticulously researched before choosing, on a mid-tier planet on a ramshackle ship. He's not about to chance anyone too connected to the establishment, so this choice is deliberate. He's dressed immaculately as Harold Crane, higher brow than usual, and he has a cane that he doesn't use for support despite his limp as he makes his way on board. He has a remote expression, distant, the best coping mechanism he knows.
Despite his air of aloofness, he's impeccably courteous as he greets Inara at her door, inclining his head respectfully. ]
Ms. Serra, thank you for agreeing to this engagement. I'm sure your time is precious.
He can't see Grace again, Nathan is dead, and he can't bear to communicate with the Machine. It had pushed him not to go through with his awful revenge plan on Alicia Corwin, who truly didn't deserve it, was the messenger and not the author... and still Harold couldn't face what he'd made. Not really. He got the output, the irrelevant numbers, and he stared at them stymied from his wheelchair as he tried to muster up the courage to do something, anything, about them.
It's some months later from that point, and he has found some courage. He's done things; he's tried. But he's still so frightfully alone. He's worried that he'll fall back into that same dark place he'd been in when he'd decided to suffocate Alicia Corwin in her own vehicle. Harold hadn't ever thought he had that in himself, and confronting that made him also confront that he was responsible for preventing it from happening again. How close was he to repeating that with some offender he runs across while working the irrelevant numbers? How close was he really? He needs a safe outlet to be sure.
A registered Companion seemed the lesser of all possible evils for spilling his guts. They were famously and notoriously discreet, and the idea of therapy made him feel ill. Harold supports psychotherapy as a practice, of course. He'd encourage anyone else to go. But he knows that counseling will want to have the end goal of him moving on, and...
He doesn't want to.
So he finds himself meeting Inara Serra, someone he'd meticulously researched before choosing, on a mid-tier planet on a ramshackle ship. He's not about to chance anyone too connected to the establishment, so this choice is deliberate. He's dressed immaculately as Harold Crane, higher brow than usual, and he has a cane that he doesn't use for support despite his limp as he makes his way on board. He has a remote expression, distant, the best coping mechanism he knows.
Despite his air of aloofness, he's impeccably courteous as he greets Inara at her door, inclining his head respectfully. ]
Ms. Serra, thank you for agreeing to this engagement. I'm sure your time is precious.
“Aim can always do with improvement. Have to keep your skills sharp,” Cassian said, amiable.
He practiced when he could; it wouldn’t do to get rusty and slow when you suddenly needed the marksmanship in the field, in the middle of an emergency.
As he clicked a button on a small remote, the projector guttered and the holo-targets sparked to life, flickering and wobbling. After a moment, they steadied into a row of stationary circles, a dull blue gleam. Each accurate shot from the blaster would make a target vanish, the machine noting the time of each hit.
With the tech activated, he moved back to stand by Inara’s side, arms crossed and ready to watch her progress. Just like supervising the trainees at Yavin.
“Ready when you are, Serra,” he said, a mischievous turn to the way he said her surname. As if she were one of theirs, another soldier in the Alliance military machine, another one of his comrades.
He practiced when he could; it wouldn’t do to get rusty and slow when you suddenly needed the marksmanship in the field, in the middle of an emergency.
As he clicked a button on a small remote, the projector guttered and the holo-targets sparked to life, flickering and wobbling. After a moment, they steadied into a row of stationary circles, a dull blue gleam. Each accurate shot from the blaster would make a target vanish, the machine noting the time of each hit.
With the tech activated, he moved back to stand by Inara’s side, arms crossed and ready to watch her progress. Just like supervising the trainees at Yavin.
“Ready when you are, Serra,” he said, a mischievous turn to the way he said her surname. As if she were one of theirs, another soldier in the Alliance military machine, another one of his comrades.
( the moment the door opened and the flood of light from the outside filled the vicinity, inara rose her gaze up to meet the man before her. whatever worries and concerns that had filled her about the kind of client he might be, were easily lifted away by his impeccable manners and courteous words. at his own incline, she followed soon with a gentle ease, matching his energy without hesitation. there was always the possibility that this was a well crafted persona, the truth waiting to lurk once they were far more intimate but there was something almost sad about him.
still, without any further hesitation or delay, inara gently stepped to the side to allow harold in and closed the door to her shuttle almost immediately after him. )
It's my pleasure, this time we will be spending together is far more precious, so please don't worry.
( moving behind him, inara began to guide him towards one of the more comfortable couches in her shuttle. once he seemed to follow her lead and take comfort in his own space, at his own pace, she began to move towards the pot of boiling water. )
I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of preparing water for a proper tea ceremony. Do you have a preference? Green, black, oolong.....?
( with the handle of the pot in her hand, she began to walk over towards the coffee table in front of harold, guiding her free hand towards the assortment of tea already placed there for his benefit. the setup was professional and intended to allow him to smell the aroma of each bundle of tea leaves, with there being a setup for gongfu, accessories and all including a tea pet. there was a small plate next to the tray, offering an assortment of eastern snacks meant to aid in digestion and health— from dried jujube, dried persimmons, and other assortments.
in the meantime, she stood before him awaiting for his decision before she began the elaborate and correct process of brewing tea for this particular ceremony. )
still, without any further hesitation or delay, inara gently stepped to the side to allow harold in and closed the door to her shuttle almost immediately after him. )
It's my pleasure, this time we will be spending together is far more precious, so please don't worry.
( moving behind him, inara began to guide him towards one of the more comfortable couches in her shuttle. once he seemed to follow her lead and take comfort in his own space, at his own pace, she began to move towards the pot of boiling water. )
I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of preparing water for a proper tea ceremony. Do you have a preference? Green, black, oolong.....?
( with the handle of the pot in her hand, she began to walk over towards the coffee table in front of harold, guiding her free hand towards the assortment of tea already placed there for his benefit. the setup was professional and intended to allow him to smell the aroma of each bundle of tea leaves, with there being a setup for gongfu, accessories and all including a tea pet. there was a small plate next to the tray, offering an assortment of eastern snacks meant to aid in digestion and health— from dried jujube, dried persimmons, and other assortments.
in the meantime, she stood before him awaiting for his decision before she began the elaborate and correct process of brewing tea for this particular ceremony. )
For now, Inara remained poised and in control, keeping her eye out for the field before her as the holo-targets began to spring to life. Her eyes watched over their design, studying them briefly as she looked and calculated the distance between where she was standing and where the targets were. While this whole affair made her just a tad bit nervous— it was mostly due to being in such close proximity to Cassian. Normally she wouldn't care too deeply but there was something in the air between them, a familiarity that began to grow the more time they spent together. It was almost ridiculous in a way—
she felt like she didn't want to disappoint him or embarrass herself before him. It didn't take long though for those feelings to fade though, she was a woman who strove to be in control, it was something drilled into her at a young age. So as Cassian moved to the background, she took a more firm and in control stance, holding her arms up as she aligned the weapon towards the first target. She was confident and cool, but then he had to go and say her name like that. It brought a soft blush to her face before she finally did shoot, falling a few inches away from the center of the target.
"Not bad for a newbie, right?", she said softly, turning her gaze back before she smiled at Cassian. There was no way she'd show him that brief wave of emotions she had felt. Absolutely never.
she felt like she didn't want to disappoint him or embarrass herself before him. It didn't take long though for those feelings to fade though, she was a woman who strove to be in control, it was something drilled into her at a young age. So as Cassian moved to the background, she took a more firm and in control stance, holding her arms up as she aligned the weapon towards the first target. She was confident and cool, but then he had to go and say her name like that. It brought a soft blush to her face before she finally did shoot, falling a few inches away from the center of the target.
"Not bad for a newbie, right?", she said softly, turning her gaze back before she smiled at Cassian. There was no way she'd show him that brief wave of emotions she had felt. Absolutely never.
[ He's here for comfort and support, he's paying her for it, but Harold still feels unmoored to be offered it so readily. Their first words exchanged and she's already expressing more care for him than he's heard from another human being since Nathan died. He'd done that to himself -- he'd isolated himself, purposefully; he can't risk Grace -- and anyone who becomes newly important to him will equally have a target on their back, same as Grace, so it's best if he doesn't allow it --
It's only the professionalism here that makes him brave enough to try. He's done everything he can to bury this encounter in a well-protected identity, the kind of thing no one would blink twice at Harold Crane engaging in. It's as safe as he could ever make it, hypothetically safer than he's been in ages. His background check on Inara and her shipmates was thorough.
Safety is such a foreign idea he doesn't know how to trust it, tries to cover his blip of awkwardness as he takes a seat and follows her invitation to examine the tea selection. He sets his cane to the side and unbuttons his jacket first -- proper etiquette while sitting -- and is in fact put more at ease by the familiar, comforting task of considering which tea to make, if in a much more elaborate setting than usual. ]
I'm partial to Japanese greens, [ he admits. ] This is an impressive arrangement. I confess I've never attended a traditional tea ceremony.
[ And he's obviously curious, interested in art and culture and fine food as always. It's nicely pulling him out of his morose thoughts and back to the present already. ]
It's only the professionalism here that makes him brave enough to try. He's done everything he can to bury this encounter in a well-protected identity, the kind of thing no one would blink twice at Harold Crane engaging in. It's as safe as he could ever make it, hypothetically safer than he's been in ages. His background check on Inara and her shipmates was thorough.
Safety is such a foreign idea he doesn't know how to trust it, tries to cover his blip of awkwardness as he takes a seat and follows her invitation to examine the tea selection. He sets his cane to the side and unbuttons his jacket first -- proper etiquette while sitting -- and is in fact put more at ease by the familiar, comforting task of considering which tea to make, if in a much more elaborate setting than usual. ]
I'm partial to Japanese greens, [ he admits. ] This is an impressive arrangement. I confess I've never attended a traditional tea ceremony.
[ And he's obviously curious, interested in art and culture and fine food as always. It's nicely pulling him out of his morose thoughts and back to the present already. ]
Cassian cocked his head and scrutinised the target— it was genuinely good, actually, especially for a woman whose line of work didn’t usually entail sending blaster bolts into someone’s heart.
“Not bad,” he conceded, with a small grin mirroring Inara’s own smile. “You want any tips on closing that last gap?”
It was a question for consent, waiting for permission and the tilt of her chin to say yes before he came sidling in close behind her. He was mindful, and the touch wasn’t salacious or unnecessary; it was a steadying hand against her left shoulder, the other adjusting the tilt of her right elbow and the set of her hands on the blaster’s grip.
It was a move that a younger, more reckless and flirtatious version of himself might have pulled: an excuse to get close to her, to occupy the same space and breathe the same air with his chin just over the woman’s shoulder. But it was still to a purpose: still training.
“Even your breathing can throw off your shot,” he explained, close to her ear, his own heart kicking an involuntary beat at standing so close.
“Gotta learn to time it. There’s a couple different ways. Take a deep breath, exhale half of it, then hold your breath when you squeeze the trigger; or, take a few deep breaths and then squeeze after exhaling, but before inhaling the next. Whichever way you’re more comfortable with.”
“Not bad,” he conceded, with a small grin mirroring Inara’s own smile. “You want any tips on closing that last gap?”
It was a question for consent, waiting for permission and the tilt of her chin to say yes before he came sidling in close behind her. He was mindful, and the touch wasn’t salacious or unnecessary; it was a steadying hand against her left shoulder, the other adjusting the tilt of her right elbow and the set of her hands on the blaster’s grip.
It was a move that a younger, more reckless and flirtatious version of himself might have pulled: an excuse to get close to her, to occupy the same space and breathe the same air with his chin just over the woman’s shoulder. But it was still to a purpose: still training.
“Even your breathing can throw off your shot,” he explained, close to her ear, his own heart kicking an involuntary beat at standing so close.
“Gotta learn to time it. There’s a couple different ways. Take a deep breath, exhale half of it, then hold your breath when you squeeze the trigger; or, take a few deep breaths and then squeeze after exhaling, but before inhaling the next. Whichever way you’re more comfortable with.”
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