A/N And now Dr. Barlow's side of the game of glances...
Also, thanks a million to nenya61192 for giving me my first review ever!
Most intriguing, Dr. Barlow mused. A boffin, just as every other scientist, spent long hours in observation and research before and after forming a theory. But these last weeks of study had produced only one observation of note: that the ship's resident Clanker Count was a singular opponent indeed.
Though at the time she had considered his swift kiss on her hand a mere formality, a trifle, she now knew it to have been the opening gambit in a much larger game, a sort of cat-and-mouse where the dominant species kept changing. And how extremely discourteous of him, not to give her the first move. Still, she had to admit that it was oddly refreshing it was to have someone aboard on par with her. True, her first impression of the man had not been a flattering one. For all his obvious wit and intelligence, his freely given contempt had ruffled her in a way she was fond of ruffling others, most ungentlemanly. She expected better of one who so prided himself on his blue blood. But then, that was the case with most aristocrats, after all. Noses held sky-high with little more true gentility than a hippoesque or one of those dreadful walkers.
Most Clanker machines had a terribly graceless way about them, all heavy metal and utilitarian purpose. By extension, their operators seemed to possess many of the same qualities, a blunt sort of ham-fisted latent hostility with no eye for detail or beauty of any kind, certainly not in nature. But he, she knew, knew better. There was nothing blunt about him, not his mind, not his face, and certainly not his sword.
She had had the occasion to see it put to use, if only in the training of others. Such weapons were, she supposed, comparatively obsolete next to both machines and fabrications, but she found that neither could match it for the sheer skill it took to wield. Perhaps one could be taught to use it, but never like him. That kind of refined prowess took inherent talent, a rare thing to be sure. When put to task, every thread of him became a tool for speed and precision and purpose, and, unlike the machines of his people, fluid and deadly elegant. And for that, she admired him. Fencing master indeed, she thought, and very suddenly wondered just when it was she had begun to admire the man, this haughty, conniving, taciturn, clever man.
Her admiration was not easily won and he was, though perhaps only technically, the enemy after all. There was of course, the very conspicuous fact of his cunning, something they shared. But there was also the somewhat less conspicuous fact of his interest in her. No fool, she had noticed it immediately. The lingering, searching gaze he set on her when they spoke in the comfort of their unlikely alliance was very telling. It picked her apart, questioning even as he smiled at her in spite of himself. Oh, when had cups of tea and conversation turned into a sparing match of "polite" gestures and double entendre? And he had started it. She snorted. Point, Ernst Volger. But she did enjoy their little meetings. Good company was good company, regardless of crest and creed. And Darwin be damned if she would let that man raise his oh so aristocratic eyebrows in triumph again. Two could play at this game.
Yes, all things considered, one more cup of tea with a fascinating subject would be very nice indeed.
Fin
A/N Alright, I'll be honest, Dr. Barlow just didn't feel like using tortured metaphors and went with a more clinical, scientific approach I suppose. Makes sense. Although, in my opinion, it's interesting that Volger's came out sounding more romantic. hmm... Anyway, reviews are love everybody, don't leave me hanging!