Fanfic. Not commercially profitable. Don't sue. It's the best we can do until the strike is over.

Garden, With Cakes

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He was a pushy little man. While men of that sort tended ot grate on the nerves, they were usually fairly easily dealt with, and he was no exception. Make him feel he’s getting his way, and he’d soon be on his way. Far, far away with any luck.

Ordinarily she would not have accepted this tiresome oik as a client, but with higher status and position came added responsibility and the need to occasionally tackle a problematic client herself. This one needed special handling, and would unwittingly act as a conduit for information if she was careful. Besides, there was not a novice in the House she’d wish him on, learning curve or no.

Inara Serra gently led her client to the door, artfully allowing her robe to slip oh so slightly off her shoulder, the maneuver so practiced as to seem completely accidental. A last glimpse of paradise to ensure he’d leave with fond memories, before she adjusted her garments. Paradise lost. The look in his eyes assured her of his return.

Look away, smile and return the gaze, wish him a safe trip, hope for another visit soon, blah blah blah, time together too short, blah. As soon as he was out of sight she closed the door, turned her back to it, rolled her eyes and handed her robe to the novice who’d already drawn an anticipatory bath. Inara addressed her next remark to the young woman as she sank into the tub. “So, what have we learned from today’s observations?”

The girl paused a moment, choosing her words carefully. “I am not certain, Aunt. If I may be so bold..”

Inara quirked an eyebrow at her. “You may, or I wouldn’t have asked.”

The girl hesitated “Your parting gestures did not seem very... subtle. Your exchanges are usually very nuanced.”

Inara tilted her head in acquiescence. That particular man is not very... subtle. Had I not given him as blunt an invitation as that he might have