He didn't look like a usual customer.
It wasn't just his clothing-- folks wandered in from all sorts of places, planets, times, wearing everything from elaborate fur-and-metal ballgowns to, well, nothing at all. A brown coat and suit hardly stood out, even with the flash of white trainers on his feet.
No, it was something about the face, the expression. The wide eyes and soft smile had an almost childish expression of open curiosity, but there was a tension in his jaws and shoulders too-- there was more to him than a simple tourist.
She should know, it was Liv's job to read people, figure out what they needed-- even if they didn't know it. Usually she could size someone up in a few seconds, make the proper introduction, and take home a nice cut of any resulting transactions-- minus a couple of coins for Darry the barman. This fellow was going to take a little more work, maybe even an actual conversation. That was fine. The less aware someone was of their own desires, the more they were willing to pay for them once revealed.
"Lime soda, please," he said pleasantly enough.
Darry raised an eyebrow. "A what?"
The man checked himself. "Oh, right, sorry. Something a little sweet, a little sour, preferably bubbly, and nothing alcoholic-- how's that?"
Darry shrugged at the unusual request. "Think I can manage that." He threw a glance her way and she gave the slightest of nods. Darry knew the drill. He turned his back and started mixing the drink-- a little sweet, a little sour, a little bubbly, and a little sometime extra. It wasn't alcohol, so, technically, we wasn't going against the order. It just made her work a little easier, the customer a little more willing to open up to a stranger.
Darry finished mixing the fizzy concotion and slid it across the bar. After poking through a pile of coins, the customer paid up, and took a tentative sip. He smiled, giving Darry the intergalactic gesture for cheers, and then swivled around in his chair to look around. That was her cue.
Liv wandered up to the bar.
"What will it be miss?" asked Darry, not giving any sign of recognition.
"Oh, I'll have a Savarian Soda," she named one of the few non-alcoholic drinks she knew. Darry plunked down a tall, twisty, green and purple bottle.
"That's 4 torros."
She paid, twisted off the top and turned to survey the room as if for the first time. She turned all the way around until she was facing the gentleman. Their eyes met briefly and she raised her glass. He nodded amibly and continued looking around, taking small sips of his drink and wrinkling his nose as the bubbles snapped and fizzed.
He was handsome, she admitted to herself, and there was something both endering and inticing in the combination of youth and age she was sensing from him. His hands, she noticed, were smooth, unlined, the long thin fingers unmarked by work or scars. If it turned out that all he really needed was a little company, well then, she might just take the job herself. Not something she usually did, but there wasn't any rule againsts it.
She noted that his drink was half gone, his smile creeping up higher on one side, a slight lack of focus in the eyes. She stood up and started to walk purposefully and quickly past him. She lifted her elbow as she passed and just caught him in the ribs as she passed. She made sure not to make him spill his drink as she grabbed him by the upper arm as if to steady herself. She let her hand linger for a beat before stepping back.
"Oh! Dang! Sorry about that!"
He looked at her, slightly puzzled, obviously trying to put some words together. Had Darry overdone it this time? she worried for a second before putting the thought aside. Nothing to do now but plunge ahead.
"No harm done," he said finally. Then shook his head, trying to clear it. "No harm..." he muttered, rubbing his eyes with one hand. He took a deep breath and let it out with what almost sounded like a laugh. But not quite.
"You all right?" She slid into the seat next to him, the concern in her voice only half acting.
He looked at her as if she'd popped out of the ground. He smiled loopily. "Well hello there." He sighed again as his eyes slid past her and lost their focus again. All the tension she'd noticed earlier had disappeared from his face and shoulders.
She put a tentative hand on his. "You looked a little lonely," she said softly, feeling back on familiar ground. But he snatched his hand away, stiffening, eyes wide and sharp.
"My metabolism has been altered," his eyes darted around the room, "norepinephrine, dopamine and serotonin levels are way off..." he trailed off for a moment, turning inward. She hoped he wasn't going to faint or something.
He caughter her eyes with a piercing gaze and she wondered how she could have ever thought there was anything young or simple about him. "What have you done?" he hissed.
