Gideon caught dark curls out of the corner of his eye, and rose, leaving the little scene by the bar as quickly as he'd come. He pushed the door open and glanced outside. "Lelah?"

Startled by the voice behind her, she turned, seeking his face in the gloom of the porch. "Gideon?" She smiled reflexively and took a few steps forward - the better to see him with, dear child. "Hi," she said and nodded to the door in which he stood. "I didn't want to bother you." She had seen him inside the Inn, chatting with a bevy of beauties, and far be it from her to step on another girl's toes.

"It's no bother." He stepped outside, letting the door shut behind him on Mack's comment.

She peered over his shoulder, one corner of lush lips tugging up in a smirk as she overheard the called out advice - ?Use protection!? - before the door shut. "You sure?" she said, dark eyes returning to his face. "Seems like there's still plenty of potential flirting and sexually charged banter in there. Be a waste to skip out before you've milked the situation of all you could get from it."

He lifted a shoulder in a shrug, chuckling softly. "I'm sure it'll still be there." An hour from now, a week from now... "And I'm fairly sure when I go back in there I'll have my face eaten off...so, yes, situation milked."

"Face eaten off? I'm not sure I want to know what that means. 'Course, round here, it could be literal, couldn't it?" She nodded towards the porch swing. "Join me?"

"Of course." He extended a hand, offering her the lead. "...and I'm sure it would be as literal as they could make it."

She settled down, primly crossed her legs and settled folded hands atop her knee. The perfectly composed lady she was going for was ruined by the bawdy grin and stifled sniggers. Despite the put together, elegant image she projected, she was quite willing to leave her mind lingering in the gutter on occasion. The better to tempt him with, dear child. "So," she said, scraping the bottom of the barrel of small talk. "How do you know everyone in there?"

"Just lucky I guess." He sank down beside her and offered up a cigarette, appreciating a fellow addict.

She plucked the coffin nail from his fingers with a grateful smile that turned wry. "That's incredibly...insightful," she teased gently. Leaning forward, she presented the cigarette to him to be lighted. "One of these days, I'll actually buy my own and a lighter and then what will we talk about?"

"Hopefully about you." He lit her cigarette for her before doing the same for himself.

"Me, huh?" She inhaled and sat back, turning a bit in her seat to face him more fully now. "What do you want to know? My life's an open book." She snorted softly, exhaled smoke wreathing her head like the ghosts of past regrets. "More like an open magazine spread but six of one, half dozen of another, you know?"

"Oh? And since when did the papers and the magazines start printing the truth? I've been gone from London for a little while but I didn't think things would have changed that much."

"The best lie is always sprinkled with a bit of truth, right?" She gave him a Cheshire grin, one seemingly out of place on her lips. "I think Cicero or Marcus Aurelius or hell, maybe it was Bush 43 who said that." She frowned, took another drag from her cigarette, said thoughtfully, "No, probably not the latter. So, I'll ask you again: give me a starting point, otherwise you run the risk of hearing all about me, starting from birth."

That drew a laugh and a nod of agreement from him as he regarded the dark haired beauty with no small measure of appreciation. Brains and beauty were a novelty in Rhy'din. "Alright. Start with why you seem so bitter. You have to be the prettiest thing in this town, but I don't think I've seen an honest smile out of you yet. What on earth do you have to be so dour about, Lelah?" She'd tempted him, and he wasn't nearly shy enough not to put his finger right on the pulse of a situation. He took a last drag from his cigarette and tossed it over the edge of the porch railing. "Fame, beauty...and I'd assume with them, money. What's eating you, poor little rich girl?" Flippant, but honestly curious.

Chuckling softly, she mirrored his action with the cigarette and in so doing, turned to watch it fly and land on the broken cobbles in front of the Inn. She stared at it until the orange faded and then turned back to him, her face composed into cool neutrality, with a bit of self-effacing mischief lurking in those kohl-rimmed eyes. "Is that what I am? A poor little rich girl? Hmm. I suppose it's true. As true as any label I've been slapped with." She shrugged, shifted a bit on the swing, turning to watch traffic, and sighed softly. "You'll have heard that it's lonely at the top?" She cut her eyes sidelong at him, studying that regal profile in the guttering light cast off by the torches.

"I've been told, yes." Told and had his own fair share of such a thing if the flicker of pale eyes gave away anything. He leaned back and let one arm rest amicably behind her on the porch swing, the heel of a foot swaying them both gently back and forth.

"It's true," she said, her tone soft and candid. She hugged herself, warding off a sudden chill that had little to do with the weather. "There's pressure at the top. Pressure to be perfect, perfect in word and deed and appearance. And God forbid if you should prove yourself human and make a mistake."

"Such as?" A lift of a challenging brow accompanied that question, relief flooding through her that he'd apparently let go of the prior thread of conversation.

Good question, especially for someone who was severely lacking in much of anything by way of hobbies. "Anything else...if all you have is acting it's a rather shallow life, isn't it? I mean...from what I understand actors draw on what they know. How can you be anywhere halfway decent at feigning reality if you haven't got a clue what it's all about?" Spoken like a consummate actor.

She snorted softly. "So, following that logic, if I'm cast as a whore, then I should go sell myself on the corner?"

"I'm sure it wouldn't hurt." He gave her a playfully wicked grin and jostled her knee with his own. "Though I don't think you'd have to go that far. People sell more than their bodies, and probably for less than what the doxies on the corner ask."

"Mmm." It was a sound of agreement. "Yes, I'm quite familiar with selling one's goods. I made more than $10 million the last time." She sat back and watched the passing people for a moment. "Interesting clientele this place attracts."

Brows lifted in an agreeable gesture and he lent back once more to follow her attention with a slow nod. "You've got that right." He sat in silence with her for a long moment, rocking them both with an even pace, like being caught in the wash of waves against the shore. "I'm glad Alain, and a mutual love of nicotine, introduced us, Lelah. You're a fascinating girl."

She chuckled and leaned back as well, dark eyes on the newest gorgeous blonde to cross the porch. "I think I'm going to have to dye my hair," she remarked idly, wondering at the lip twitch the woman had sent in Gideon's direction.

"God, please don't." He said it with more vehemence than he'd meant to, and bemused embarrassment touched one curled corner of his mouth again. "Brunettes are a rarity around here, and it suits you."

She was watching after the other girls following the first and then slowly turned to Gideon, a curious glint in her eyes. "More conquests of yours? Are there many? Triple digits? Are they all blonde?"

He blinked and turned to give her a look of mild contempt tinged with thin amusement. "You know, in spite of what you may have heard, I'm not the easiest thing going in this town." A few years ago that might have been a lie but today it was actually the sad truth. He stopped the porch swing and rose, shoving hands into his pockets as he gave her a nod. "It's been a...pleasure, Lelah."

"Oh," she said in a tiny, sheepish voice, a frown wrinkling her brow. "I'm sorry. That was incredibly rude of me." Open mouth, Lelah, and insert your entire freakin' leg!

He gave her a thin smile and reached a hand forward in offer for one of hers. "Not at all, luv. Call it as you see it. I'd just hate to waste anymore of your time."

She took his hand, moving slowly, that look of confusion on her features deepening. "Waste my time?"

He brushed a thumb over he knuckles and released her hand, staking a step back. "Sure, I mean...I followed you out here, didn't I? I sure as hell didn't do it for some additional abuse. If I'd wanted that I could have very well stayed in the viper pit." He nodded toward the door and the buzz of voices behind it. "You're a smart girl, luv. I wish you the best, and I do hope you stop selling yourself short." He moved for the door, shoving it open with a shoulder as he fished for a fresh cigarette.

She blinked, her mouth falling open in shock as she watched him head inside, and said softly, "Well, f*ck." She sat like a forgotten sack of potatoes on the porch swing for a moment before sighing deeply and shaking her head. "Awesome, Leelee," she berated herself quietly before sitting back on the swing and pushing it back and forth idly while she sulked. Should she let it go and go home? Should she follow him and apologize again? Should she try to explain about natural defense mechanisms that come out as slightly cruel, sarcastic, cynical disbelief? She went with the easiest course, namely peeling herself off the swing and heading for home, tail tucked neatly between her legs the entire way to her front door. Oscar needed a walk and she had a staff meeting to prepare for.

((Adapted from live play. Thanks to the player of Gideon.))