The Lane Hacker remained reaction-less to the Commander's otherwise positive response to her earlier question. The typically, by now, indifferent look on her face however would not mirror her emotions for a change, a rather exclusive occurrence to this one meeting and one that Liz was certainly not accustomed to. She felt as if a faint smile was about to appear on her lips. She felt as though Damien's response made her joyful, perhaps trivially so, but joyful nonetheless.
"You couldn't have been more on point, Damien, but genuinely... What if both suggestions have some degree of correctness attached to them?" Liz's response followed the end of Damien's statement, pausing only for a moment to further intrigue the man sitting in front of her, "What if I not only substantially enjoy people's obsession with figuring out the motives behind my actions and don't care about what they have to say one bit?"
A long pause would follow. The Infiltrator expected that many assumptions could be made after her final comments. She would return to the subject after leaning forward and resting her arms on the table, adjusting her uniform slightly before doing so.
"They're not my friends, Damien, and you - or anyone for that matter - have never heard me refer to them in such way. They are my colleagues as you have so aptly described," the Lane Hacker continued, stopping only to take a quick glance of the approaching employee before her eyes met Damien's again, "they know about as much as they need to know and as much as is beneficial to both my and the organization's profit." The look on Elizabeth's face during those last few sentences was one that Cobra had never seen before. A significant aura of solemnity characterized her every word, a cold-blooded gaze adorned her single eye and the delicate palms that had previously rested on the table were now clenched into fists.
It would take an exceptional fool not to notice the prominent anger in the Infiltrator's body language and speech patterns, and she was well aware that Damien would very quickly and easily catch up on it. The sigh that followed her emotionally heavy words, coupled with the immediate break in eye contact would even further suggest that the subject their conversation had brought to the surface was one that troubled the Infiltrator on a significant level. Whether or not she would be willing to discuss the matter further was unknown to the Lane Hacker at the moment; she was uncertain if she should continue conversing about something so personal, and it was very likely that the Alliance Commander's reaction would be the deciding factor.
"A Starkiller Deluxe for me," the Infiltrator ordered surprisingly quickly, almost as if she'd decided what she wanted long before the waitress arrived. The cocktail she ordered was a classic of most of the bars she had visited around Sirius; a peculiar, fizzy and fruity drink with a lingering aftertaste - her favorite among others.
As if more of a tactical move to be rid of the attendant, Damien fired off a quick but polite order for himself. "Blue bolt with three ice cubes." A commonly stocked and utterly generic blue colored soda known for its sweet but somewhat sour taste on account of the fruit it was artificially flavored after. Not the choice someone would have expected from a man that looked and acted like he did, but this seemed to be his honest preference.
With their vicinity temporarily liberated, he refocused himself on the unintended eruption of tension unfolding in front of him. "I don't expect you to tell me what's on your mind, I wouldn't really recommend it either. I'm still who I am and I still represent the interests you're acutely aware of. But whatever, or whoever it was - neither deserves to hold any power over you now." He wasn't offering sympathy, pity, or an apology for accidently broaching this subject. But there was legitimate sincerity to what he'd just said. Words gleaned from personal experience given the kind of life he'd had, and many lessons learned as a consequence of stolen self-determination. As Krest likely expected of him by now, it was an open ended statement. He was clearly listening if she intended to speak further, but also prepared to instantly drop it.
It wasn't going to matter to him any more than it did to her. And at least in this regard, she was being given open respect and total discretion.
The Lane Hacker waited in silence for the waitress to document their order. As the young woman began to walk away from the table, Liz leaned back in her chair, relaxing her rather tense body and letting out a short sigh, her expression returning to the dull and emotionless one she had before.
"Perhaps a subject we can revisit in a future meeting," Liz replied with a rather vague statement, leaving it open to debate whether it was the inappropriateness of the setting or her lack of trust in him that caused her not to elaborate on the subject. Although Cobra's last statement had left her puzzled in comparison to his previous actions, she did not want to dwell on it for too long. He had just 'passed' a figurative test she had set him, and she was very pleased with his reaction.
"So tell me, Damien," the Infiltrator said in a calm voice as she looked into the distance, scanning the bar and its patrons, "is there anything about me you'd like to know? Something that intrigues you, something that perhaps piques your interest," her eyes returned to Cobra, "you can't possibly have asked me to meet you here just for a drink or two."
Throwing the ball at him, Liz's eyes yet again returned to the distance as she breathed slowly, waiting in silence for her accomplice's response.
He hesitated when faced with that question, but it would only be a few seconds before he just spat out what was on his mind. "Does the augmented eye come off? I'm sorry, I realize that's a rude thing to ask. It's just that I've been wondering ever since I first saw it. It's also just slightly awkward going from your natural eye, which is actually quite pleasant to fixate on, to that. Can't help but feel slightly cheated in the eye contact department." It was all just so unexpectedly humorous of him, amplified by the fact that every word sounded absolutely honest. He must have been obsessing over this for the past hour. There was also every likelihood that the tone he'd used would make it seem endearing.
Not even a minute afterwards he skipped past his own query and tackled her question about motivations. "The reason I called you here is the same reason you decided to come despite your general discomfort over the venue. And if you're enjoying the conversation so far, then does it really matter why? I'm not actively pursuing any information I could exploit or leverage, so this isn't a game. You're almost in disbelief over the prospect of me just wanting to talk to you more. Do you really think so little of yourself?" By now she should have expected it, because as soon as he'd squeezed out those last few words, something happened that would likely break her concentration. This time, it was the waitress returning with their drinks. Their view of each other would also be broken momentarily as the young woman leaned forward slightly to place their drinks on the table carefully.
As soon as their table was once again free of a potential eavesdropper, Damien reached for his glass and raised it to his mouth, producing a mild series of clinks from the ice. He wasn't actually going to drink any of it just yet, it seemed more like he was enjoying the anticipation of it for a few moments. That, or he was waiting for Krest to join him.
His honest, perhaps childish, questions about the vision-enhancing technology on her face amused her.
Not wanting to 'tease' the Xeno on the matter, and not wanting to prolong his 'suffering' any further, she raised her right arm, which was resting on her hips, and felt around the right side of the device with her fingers, trying to feel for a small button. When she found it, a gentle push released the device from her eye socket, allowing it to be removed easily and safely.
After finally removing it and placing it in a pocket of her trousers, Damien would get a full view of her face. Surprisingly, it would immediately become apparent that she suffered from heterochromia, as her brown right eye was not the same colour as her green left eye.
"Are you happy with what you see, Damien?" Liz spoke in a strangely human way, not entirely devoid of emotion. This sudden change in tone would suggest that she herself was rather unhappy with what was hidden beneath the gear. Perhaps the optics were just an excuse for her to hide this imperfection in her face; it wouldn't have been the first time she'd tried to hide parts of herself she didn't like.
She sat in silence as the waitress carefully placed their respective drinks in front of them. When she was gone, Liz reached for her own glass and brought it to mouth-level before gesturing to Cobra, having noticed the delay in his own first sip. "Cheers," she thought to herself, not saying a word, relying on the Xeno to understand the gesture before taking a sip.
He understood and sipped from his drink soon after she did, quietly enjoying his choice of beverage. Though he wasn't going to allow the sudden onset of silence to overstay its welcome.
"Your eyes, the freckles, the way you wear your hair, and even the scars - it's actually quite fetching." If she was expecting to hear him express disappointment then what he'd just said would come across as more than a little surprising. What's more was the fact that the words sounded genuine, coupled with the fact that if she paid attention there was a change in how his eyes regarded her. It no longer seemed like an idle attention to detail now, but rather appreciation instead.
That detail aside, he went after another topic of conversation he'd been thinking about. "Why do you think I called you here? You keep saying my reasoning can't have been so simple or mundane. That suggests you have your own idea of why I called. I'm curious." Soon after asking this, he set his drink down and more comfortably held eye contact. Apparently the visible imperfections were almost enviable to him, and it wasn't a grand mystery about why he saw it this way.
"My eyes?" Liz repeated after Damien, appearing to be rather surprised, "I cannot say I share the same opinion about them, but that doesn't mean it isn't joyful to be made aware of yours. The same goes," she paused for a moment, almost as if she had ran out of words, "for the rest of my features that you have commented on."
The Lane Hacker was unsure what Damien really saw in her. The charming attempt at a compliment only raised more questions, but she was not about to let them cloud her mind, not at this moment. The look on Elizabeth's face as her eyes darted off into the distance for a moment would surely betray the confusion she was going through. Regardless, her eyes would soon meet Cobra's in a stare that was quite far from the emotionless one that she usually wore.
"You've already answered that question, Damien," Liz spoke confidently while maintaining eye contact, "you called me here because you enjoyed our earlier conversation and my company. The rest is my own processing of that information, which combined with the 'thinking little of yourself' creates confusion."
Liz did not hesitate to be completely honest with the Xeno. The truthfulness of her words was clearly evident in her speech pattern and body language.
He smirked and mildly raised an eyebrow at the latter half of her final statement. "Confusion - why?" Something about the assertion puzzled him, like he couldn't possibly believe his opinion on the subject of the person just across from him might not be the norm.
"Regardless, I called you here because I wanted to. You can deduce from that whatever you'd like." It was a way of telling her that she was both right and wrong at the same time, as boggling as that may have seemed for the mind. His refusal to provide certainty was by now a consistent trend. Though his posture was more forthcoming, apparently comfortable and in control of the situation. Absolutely nothing that betrayed any sense of insecurity.
After a lengthy gulp from his frosty glass, he set it down on the table and glanced out the nearest window. No doubt wondering what was due for him back "home" in terms of workload and politics. Both of which he likely had plenty to deal with.
"Confusion due to my tendency to over-analyze situations and not accept simple answers as real ones," the Lane Hacker continued almost immediately after the Commander's remark, "perhaps a re-evaluation of those tendencies is in order," she said with a smile.
Liz held her glass in her hand, raised it to her lips and took another sip, almost emptying it. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the lingering taste, exhaling slowly as she did so. She continued to listen to Cobra's words while keeping her eyes closed. She was intrigued by the way Cobra chose to speak; the apparent lack of clear answers and his way with words made her all the more interested in talking to the man in front of her.
However, this does not stop Liz from thinking that this meeting may have taken longer than she had expected. She does have business to attend to, but she does not want to say anything about it just yet - perhaps to see if Cobra will take the initiative in that direction or not.
"It looks quiet outside," Elizabeth comments abruptly after opening her eyes a few moments ago and looking out the same window as Cobra, "definitely quieter than when we started our conversation out there." While this seemingly random comment may have seemed like a subtle attempt to hint at a desire to leave, it was in fact nothing more than a random thought that had occurred to her after looking outside, one that she did not hesitate to share with her company for the evening.
Quietly, he listened and seemed to just look over the features of her face as she spoke, eyes occasionally landing on certain sections before moving on as if in consideration of something. "Less distractions that way." This was the only time his tone bordered on flirtatious, with the rest of his mannerisms and even posture following suit. It might have even just been a way to gauge her reaction.
"How much longer do I have you for?" Like he was being entitled to a luxury by having her here, an endearing estimate for her departure was requested. And assuming that she didn't want to order anything else, and that they would both eventually be leaving, he signaled to the bar tender that he was leaving the price they ought to pay on the table. Liz was by all means observant enough to notice that he was leaving extra, a form of gratitude to the people who worked here.
