milliways_bar | (no subject)

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There's an Endless in the bar.
It's shocking.
Desire. In the bar. Who would have guessed?
... Well. Perhaps anyone even vaguely familiar with this particular Endless, but that's neither here nor there.

Desire seems to be without intent this evening, just staying at the usual table, smoking the usual cigarette, and a simple glass of champagne in hand.

An undirected Desire is a bored Desire.
Bad news for anyone who wasn't looking to become Desire's evening entertainment...

[OOC: I've had to slowtime because I'm out of practice -- I'll get back to this!]

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Kaylee does rather strive to please.

Her hand is on Desire's shoulder, and she squeezes. "Hey." And the smile she gives Desire isn't anywhere near as bright as usual -- a little sad, a little rueful. Warm, though.

...possibly she is not seeing Desire.

Probably.

Well.
Best not to leave the smallest doubt, then -- After the whole dàxiàng bàozhàshì de lādùzi the last time Kaylee mistook him for Simon, Desire's not entirely willing to let the sweet thing make the same mistake.

"Nĭ hăo, Kaylee Tam."

Confusion, just for a moment --

And then, slowly, she withdraws her hand and runs it through her hair. "Evenin'." Just rueful, now. "Sorry about that. How you been?"

"Tch! Fàngxīn, dear, it's not as if I mind." Desire offers Kaylee a wink so outrageous, it can only mean he's about to begin flirting to try and bring up her mood.

"Work, work, work -- It does keep one busy, but thank goodness I love my job. -- You're a lightweight, aren't you?"

Well.

She's married, not dead.

And she's about to comment on the first, when she starts laughing at the second. "Depends on the stuff. Captain's rotgut -- shi a. I can handle myself on the lighter stuff...why?" And there's the grin. "You got somethin' in mind in particular?"

Desire waves a hand dismissively at the bottle of genuine Earth-that-was French champagne. "Well. If you had a mind dĕng yìmiăo and using it to sit down, I might have a mind to share some of this with you."

Beat.

"It goes wonderfully with strawberries."

Kaylee bites her lower lip. Looks over her shoulder at the front door.

...nobody'll mind if she stays gone a while longer.

The grin is back as she takes herself a seat, and flags down a rat.

If Desire says it goes wonderfully with strawberries, the least she can do is see if Desire is right. For the sake of scientific inquiry.

"Xiexie ni." Her grin goes a little crooked. "Anything else it goes good with, while we got somebody here?"

Anything in the name of scientific discovery! Where in the 'Verse would we be without it?

Desire considers the question, mulling it over like the sip of champagne he just stole.

"Peaches," he offers quietly.

Here, if one were rotten, one would make a reference to the Steve Miller Band.

Really love your peaches, want to shake your tree.

Mm.

"You heard him," Kaylee says, and straightens as the rat heads off. " -- and another glass, xiexie."

She folds her arms loosely on the table, and her head tilts, just a little. "You like 'em. Peaches."

Desire shrugs, nonchalant.
Desire is actually ambivalent about peaches, but everyone -- including the head bartender -- keeps giving him drinks with them in.

"They're sweet," he offers.

"So're strawberries. So're a lot of things." Kaylee sounds amused. "Plenty worse choices, though."

Beat.

"...and like you're really lookin' for my approval anyhow."

"I could be."

From his tone, it sounds like Desire's back to flirting.

"Well? Are you, though?"

This could possibly be construed as Kaylee maybe starting to get herself in trouble. Also known as returning the gesture.

"Why don't you tell me?"

Smirk.

"After all, I do know strawberries are your favorite."

Beat.

"Unfair advantage, do you think?"

"Like I'm really gonna say yes when you're bein' nice enough to ply me with champagne and whatnot." Kaylee is laughing. " -- and speakin' of."

The rat has returned; Kaylee sets the fruit and the glass on the table. "We get to do a toast?"

"Shì a," Desire agrees, grinning, and carefully tips some champagne into Kaylee's flute. "What should we toast to?"

Kaylee considers.

"...good sex?"

Because really, if you can't say it around Desire, who can you say it around?

Desire doesn't laugh: After all, good sex is serious business, say true -- There couldn't be any other reason it's not allowed in the bar, right?

Instead, Desire just offers Kaylee that grin and tops off his own champagne before clinking his glass against hers.

"To good sex."

The grin leaves her grateful she's seated; otherwise she'd be more than a little weak-kneed.

"Often and always," Kaylee agrees, and sips -- and promptly swallows without much grace, and starts giggling. " -- duìbùqĭ, just -- don't have things with bubbles in 'em that often. Takes a little adjustment."

"Tch. Nothing to apologize for, mĕilì, they do tickle the nose some. -- Here, take the edge off."

And call Desire a wúwàng de làngmàn, but he's offering Kaylee one of the more beautiful strawberries off the plate, held the breadth of a small bite away from Kaylee's lips.

Desire, maybe; Simon definitely. Seeing as he was the last one to do this for her.

-- if it's what she thinks it is, of course. But how couldn't it be? If it wasn't -- then Desire would tilt the plate toward her, or -- it wouldn't be right in front of her mouth. Waiting.

Mĕilì, Desire says, and Kaylee's had such a very rotten month or two and an even worse last couple of days, and she licks her lips, bites her lower lip, gives Desire an uncertain look --

But she does want it.

She leans forward, just enough. Sinks her teeth in slowly.

And she can't meet his eyes when she does it, but that works out. Hers are closed.

Champagne and strawberries. Yìqĭ shēn hūxī.

Sometimes, a strawberry is just a strawberry.

... Then again, this is Desire.
Nature of the equation. They help and -- they hurt. At once.
Desire doesn't seem to notice that Kaylee's eyes are closed: He doesn't mention it, at any rate.

The berry is gone, and there's a fever-hot hand against hers on the champagne flute, urging her to pick it up.
"Try the champagne now," Desire suggests, gently.

She feels it before her eyes open, and her hand tightens, a little, under his.

A slight intake of breath.

Kaylee's eyes open, and her hand makes no move. Soft, and wondering (and maybe just a little knowing), "You do like to deal in what's intense, don't you."

Desire offers Kaylee a duh look clearly borrowed from River, and then smirks.

"It enhances the flavor, you know."

"I'm all for that," she says, and lifts the flute, and it doesn't tickle this time at all. "Don't get me wrong. It's just -- " And a flash of a grin. "Not all that subtle, you know?"