tampered | (no subject)

Current Mood: excited

(no subject)

When: Monday Evening
Rating PG-13 at most?
Characters Inara Serra, Rupert Giles
Summary Giles and Inara meet up at the Blue Light to listen to and perhaps sing some Jazz.

Inara hasn't a clue how to dress down. She's not even certain what sort of club this is, so she's dressed to the nines. Her dark hair is up, a few curls tumbling down around her neck. Her makeup is immaculate, as anyone who knows Inara would expect. She walks into the club and orders a Cosmopolitan from the bartender. It's not difficult to procure a seat close to the door so that she will be able to watch for Rupert when arrives. Her stomach flutters the slightest bit, nervous as this is her first outing of any sort in the City. She's not nervous about meeting Rupert though. She's a fair judge of character and has judged his to be very good.

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On Giles' end, he believes this meeting is meant to be a casual one, most similar to those he had with some of his colleagues back home-- no assumptions, just two people of a like generation going out for coffee. Perhaps a beer or two. He walks into the bar-- a casual one, plenty of easygoing jazz listeners in the City making the atmosphere one which is most mellow-- wearing a suede jacket and a pair of decently nice slacks. He leans surreptitiously against the bar for a moment, looking around for Inara, only to blink, quite frankly out of terror, upon actually seeing her.

She's a bit young for him to be going out with while dressed like that, isn't she? All in all, he looks fairly flustered as he approaches, although he does his best to smile all the while. No need to be anything but gracious to the girl, after all.

It doesn't hurt that she's pretty on top of it all.

"E-erm-- Miss Inara, is it?"

Inara wasn't bother by the fact that she was dressed up and no one else was. In fact, she didn't even notice it. It was a state of being she was quite accustomed to. When Rupert approached her, she smiled and stood, extending her hand.

"Indeed. Rupert Giles, I presume."

He paused, wondering just what she was expecting and similarly, what was appropriate for the situation. Shaking her hand didn't seem quite right, so he took the offered hand and raised it to his lips, brushing briefly-- more would have been improper-- before smiling and stammering, yet again.

"A pleasure. And Giles-- or Rupert-- is fine, really."

That all said and done, Giles sat down on the stool next to Inara.

"I, ah... feel a little underdressed now, Inara. My apologies."

Inara inclined her head when Rupert brushed her hand with his lips.

"Don't be ridiculous. You look very handsome," she assured him. "Would you like a drink?"

As always, Giles was pretty pleased with the compliment-- especially coming from a woman like Inara-- although he tried not to make too much of a scene over the matter, simply smiling faintly for a moment, before looking up at her question.

"Oh, erm-- trying to resist temptation for the moment, really. I did truly-- or do usually-- come here for the musical numbers. Though I may order a ginger ale, in a bit. How are you finding the setting?"

Inara nodded her understanding about the drink. "It's lovely. I've only heard samplings of music such as this. I'm afraid a great deal of it has not survived in my world. The music is very..." she paused searching for the right word, "alive."

"Not a great deal of music has survived in your world?" Giles immediately asked, brow furrowing as he moved to adjust his glasses. "That's rather strange, I'd always considered it a rather universal... thing, but clearly I'm mistaken. Why is it that music hasn't survived to this extent, do you think?"

"Dǎrǎo yixià?" Inara asked, her face set in an expression of confusion. It disappeared a moment later to be replaced with a gently smile. "No, I mispoke. Music has survived and is being created every day in my world. But this type of music, Jazz, there isn't a great deal of it that has survived. I've heard a few pieces played by people but on the whole we tend toward more pop and classical I'm afraid. It is a pity. This is lovely."

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