alnifolia | open rp post 2.0

Nah. You're the only one I'm looking to impress tonight.

[ but he falters even as he says it. Was that tipping his hand too much? He grimaces, hiding it by ducking his head and pulling a hand through his hair, and tries to recover. ]

So? In or out?

[ ... Huh. Kasumi could have easily attributed what he says to just. You know, the usual mindless flirtation that doesn't mean anything. But the way he falters and folds into himself after surprises her, and... he's not really lying, is he. She's seen him lie before. She knows he's damned good at it. This is different, she knows it, and it makes her heart twist a little. Because if he really wasn't lying just now, then maybe there's something there. But he'd already cut her off once; he could do it again. ]

... In. Free drink, and I don't even have to steal it.

[ She pushes off the railing and whirls around to face him, trying for a lighthearted look because that's easier than asking him what just happened. She looks back over her shoulder at the door that leads back into the bar. ]

It's pretty packed in there. Guess we'll have to stay close, huh?

... Yeah, seems like it.

[ He pushes away from the railing in turn, moving a step or two past her and hesitantly offering a hand. He adds wryly, ]

You'll protect me if that buddy of yours comes back for revenge, right?

[ She looks perplexed at first, but then-- ]

Oh. Him. Yeah, you can leave that one to the expert here.

[ She smirks at him even as she similarly hesitantly takes his hand. And tries not to think about how nice that feels. ]

[ He deadpans, ] My hero. [ Before leading them back into the club.

Goto's hand is warm in his, and if he wasn't so good at compartmentalizing, it might have driven him to distraction. As it is, he wastes an entire second thinking simply, Oh, before he spurs himself into motion.

The bar is a different animal than the terrace, and Peter waits at the door to let his eyes adjust to the dim lighting. The music's bass pulses through the floor, the scent of alcohol heavy in the air, and Peter guides the two of them to the bar once again. It takes some doing, given the throng of people inside, many of whom are three sheets to the wind and dancing wildly. Once or twice, Peter's forced to pull Kasumi close to his side as some turian or salarian flails around, vaguely in time with the music. He grinned apologetically each time.

He pulls them up to a spot at the bar and catches a bartender's attention. Once the two of them have ordered their drinks, Peter pauses, lips pursed, then, raising his voice to be heard over the cacophony, ]

This place kinda stinks, huh?

[ She doesn't mind when he pulls her in, at the very least it's much better than getting smacked in the face by turian claw hands, and at most it's--nice. To be close to Quill, somehow.

Kasumi orders what can only be described as the pink monstrosity that Peter mentioned earlier, because of course she does. She props an elbow onto the bar as they wait, resting her chin on her hand and casting a sidelong glance out at the people dancing just a few feet away. She keeps close to him so they don't have to shout too much at each other. ]

Do you mean that figuratively? Because literally works too, just saying.

[ As their drinks arrive, he takes one glance at the drink placed in front of Kasumi before turning toward her, giving her a flat look that seemed to say, Are you being serious? without as many words.

Her question draws a chuckle from him, and he tips his head to one side in concession – fair point. The sharp, bitter smell of alcohol and thick, humid air hangs in the room, even despite its high ceilings. ]

I meant more metaphorically, but you’re right. They could probably stand to hang a few pine tree air fresheners in here.

[ She quirks her brow at him with a smirk to his unspoken question, with her unspoken answer being, I am being 100% serious as she wraps her fingers around her glass and takes up her drink. ]

Pine tree air fresheners. That's pretty old school.

[ And then she holds her glass up at him. ]

Thanks for the drink, by the way.

[ Good Lord, that drink is aggressively pink. He snorts quietly as she raises her glass. ]

I can’t believe you actually ordered that.

[ Whatever, she just clinks the rim of her glass against his drink before going ahead and taking a sip. ]

Well, you offered to buy, so I got an expensive cocktail.

I mean, I can totally understand that, but—

[ He pokes at the florid garnish poking its way up from one side of her glass. ]

Really, though?

Wanna try it?

[ She holds it up at him. ]

It's not bad. Pretty fruity, though I'm not entirely sure what fruits they used or what they put in it to make it look like it's glowing in the dark like that.

[ His nose wrinkles, though it's more an act than any genuine distaste. ]

I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll pass. I’m not sure if my system can handle that much pink all at once.

Suit yourself.

[ She shrugs before continuing to sip on her drink with the straw because she is a classy lady. ]

Want to get out of here after we down these drinks?

Yes.

[ Ah. Maybe that was a bit too quick. He takes a drink from his glass to hide the brief flash of embarrassment.

It’s not that he’s unused to crowded places like this, or even that he dislikes them – on the contrary, packed clubs are some of his favored locales, when it comes to work. Slipping in and out of a crowd comes as easily to him as breathing. Mingling and making small talk is second nature, so long as he has a well-formulated front.

Being himself, though – he has trouble with that as it is, much less while he’s shouting over the din of conversation and music, picking his words carefully to avoid being overheard.

He waves a hand. ]

No rush, though.

Works for me. I'd probably die if I tried to rush this drink, anyway.

[ Kasumi doesn't mind crowded places, either, and it makes her work easier depending on what she's doing. Like swiping something from a drunk, privileged man-child, for instance. But she would be lying if she said she didn't prefer quieter, more secluded spaces--just that the opposite can be fun, once in a while. Tonight is apparently one of those whiles. She'd hadn't planned on lingering much after completing her work and finishing her last drink, but all things considered, she doesn't mind how this has worked out, even if she knows Peter will just disappear again after. ]

Have any place in mind?

[ He takes a second to rack his brain, thinking of options. ]

There's a cafe near here. Might still be open. Or, uh. The docks are nearby. If you want, we could...

[ He trails off, gaze settling on the contents of his mug. He adds, ]

There's a good diner I know of, too. If that's better for you.

[ It's not hard for her to miss the way he trails off. ]

So that's, like, two and a half options there.

[ She quirks a brow. ]

What's at the docks?

[ He hesitates, stalling by taking a drink. Then, slowly, ]

It's, you know. Where my ship is.

[ She had a feeling it was that. But the danger of Peter inviting her to his ship--even if he never actually finished doing so with the way he trailed off--doesn't escape her. And at this point, the danger isn't so much a fear that Peter might still turn and decide to kill her; while there's a lingering suspicion that she's sure he feels as well, he's proven over the few times they've encountered each other since that he's not out to get her. He even warned her against another assassin after her. The danger lies more within Peter's career. He's not the first assassin she's ever encountered, but what makes him so good at his occupation is the hard line he's drawn between personal affairs and the professional.

She knows she's toeing that line. Regardless of what would happen, for him to invite her to his ship is different from inviting a random person to his ship and--well, crap, that's what all of this was about, wasn't it? Why he'd been so hot and cold, why he eventually cut her out, and--having unexpectedly bumped into each other again--why he's been in a state of what she can only describe as quiet, controlled panic all night? It's because he doesn't know what in the hell to do with her.

Kasumi is silent for a contemplative moment or three, her gaze fixed completely on him, searching for an answer to her questions in his expression. In the end, she leans in closer so she doesn't have to yell, and she can only say one of said questions out loud: ]

What do you want out of tonight, Peter?

[ When she moves in close, he goes rigid all over again, forcing down that instinct to react, to move, to keep her out of his space by any means necessary, and—

Well. That's been the problem all along, isn't it? Trying to keep Kasumi Goto, best thief in the galaxy, out. Even if he doesn't really want to. Even if it's her job to get into restricted, locked-down areas with concrete walls topped with electrified barbed wire. For twenty-six years, he built up those defenses. In one night with Donovan fucking Hock, a crack formed, and over the months that passed, that crack became a weakness.

He cares, of course. He's ready to repair that hole and block out the world again, but—

Twenty-six years. That's a long time to go without letting anyone in. ]

I... really don't know. [ He admits it with a quiet, bitter laugh. ] I just...

[ ...missed you.

He trails off again, grasping for words that won't come, before he sighs. ]

I don't know. [ A beat, then, ] It probably wouldn't surprise you to know I haven't had a clue what I've been doing all night.

...It's a shocker, honestly.

[ Still, her voice isn't dripping with sarcasm but with something more resigned. Kasumi doesn't know much about Peter Quill; she suspects he doesn't know much about her, either. All she knows is that as Star-Lord, he's an assassin who's damn good at his job. As Quill, he's from Earth, he's got a family there--she doesn't know about how long that wall of his has been standing, she doesn't know that he's missed her. All she knows is that there is a wall, justifiably so, and that if he really wants to keep her out, then that's his choice.

But he doesn't seem like he really wants to keep her out. Otherwise, he would have turned a blind eye to her tonight and pretended they were never at the same place at the same time.

And what about her? Kasumi's got walls of her own. It's got windows and crap for the people she lets close enough to her, but they'd been boarded up since Keiji died. And usually it takes much more to let someone through--certainly more than "I was hired to kill you and then I didn't and we ran into each other a few times after that." But there's something about Peter, what little she's seen of the man, that leaves her wishing there was something more between them. Even if it's shallow, or fake, or just friendly. Just, something.

Maybe it's because he's not the only one who's lonely. ]

I'm not really sure what I'm doing either, you know. I thought I'd never see you again after last time.

[ Peter’s not sure if that’s an observation or a quiet little jab, the fact that he’d so strongly encouraged the two of them to never meet again. He had worked pretty hard at making that suggestion a reality, too, working quietly and covering his tracks so completely that he was practically a shadow. If it hadn’t been for tonight, who knows how long he could’ve kept it up?

Should he apologize for disappearing? He glances over at her, a pensive frown on his face, but decides against it. Seems arrogant of him to assume she’d care. Seems pointless if, after tonight, they come to the mutual agreement that, yeah, maybe this friendship thing? Playing with fire. Playing hot potato with a live grenade.

He downs the rest of his drink in a few gulps, the beer cool and bitter, and pushes the empty glass away. ]

I guess we should… talk this out. [ Slowly. Thoughtfully. He adds with a rueful little smile, ] Figure out what the hell we’re doing.

[ Kasumi's pretty quick to sip on the rest of her drink in the silence that passes, too, but thankfully this is exactly the kind of shitty bar where the glass contains three drops of alcohol total for the price of a whole bottle.

She's rather surprised he suggests talking it out rather than switching the topic or circumventing, and she casts another measuring glance at him. ]

...I mean, if you're sure. Though we should probably get out of here if we want to do that.

[ he nods his agreement. ]

You got any preferences? [ You know. From the illustrious two and a half options he offered earlier. ]

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