docjordan (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} docjordan) wrote in ![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} kings_ransom, |
Jordan hadn't really paid attention to where the girl he had sent away went. He figured there were a series of doors to get to the back, just like any other place of business. It all really just relied on how patient one would be in trying to find their way back there and where they wanted to go once there.
He wasn't an impatient man by all means. He could watch plants grow with the best of them, or cells mutate into other cells. Jordan was a man of time. Unless, he was in public. Here he was in public, in a club, and there was no telling what poor virgin boy had spilled in this seat and had only been wiped up by a wet cloth.
His eyes flicked over to the woman as she made her way to him. That hadn't been half as long as he expected. Little surprises. Whether the surprise would be pleasant or not was up to the two people about to sit at the same table. Jordan watched her set her cigarettes down, that was a small plus. Not that the habit on a stripper was surprising. The girls needed something to keep their nerves at bay, their morals down and so forth.
It was the notebook that was another surprise. Reading her writing his gaze flicked back up to her. He moved a chair out for her with his booted foot. "Sit." He said softly, then motioned his waitress back over. The woman seemed to hover just within eyesight of him. He ordered another drink for himself, then nodded his head toward Vala. "Get anything you want. You hungry?" He raised a slight brow at her, his lips curving into a small smirk. "With that type of question, you'd better eat something. I might ask you to do me for free."
As soon as she had placed her order, he watched the waitress walk away. His gaze then slid back to the Cruel one. Taking a drag off of his new cig, he let out the smoke slowly, away from her. "So are you deaf or mute?" He made sure that he formed the words on his lips clearly, just in case it was the first. Jordan could sign a little, but he was rusty. Not having had to sign since he was young, when his father used to treat a deaf man back in Alaska before the man died in one of the many white outs they had had that winter. He had showed off with it in college, just a few times, trying to pick up a pretty mute girl. Other than that, he didn't feel comfortable with signing. Although he was sure this girl had been put through worse than his horrible antics at the communication.
He wasn't an impatient man by all means. He could watch plants grow with the best of them, or cells mutate into other cells. Jordan was a man of time. Unless, he was in public. Here he was in public, in a club, and there was no telling what poor virgin boy had spilled in this seat and had only been wiped up by a wet cloth.
His eyes flicked over to the woman as she made her way to him. That hadn't been half as long as he expected. Little surprises. Whether the surprise would be pleasant or not was up to the two people about to sit at the same table. Jordan watched her set her cigarettes down, that was a small plus. Not that the habit on a stripper was surprising. The girls needed something to keep their nerves at bay, their morals down and so forth.
It was the notebook that was another surprise. Reading her writing his gaze flicked back up to her. He moved a chair out for her with his booted foot. "Sit." He said softly, then motioned his waitress back over. The woman seemed to hover just within eyesight of him. He ordered another drink for himself, then nodded his head toward Vala. "Get anything you want. You hungry?" He raised a slight brow at her, his lips curving into a small smirk. "With that type of question, you'd better eat something. I might ask you to do me for free."
As soon as she had placed her order, he watched the waitress walk away. His gaze then slid back to the Cruel one. Taking a drag off of his new cig, he let out the smoke slowly, away from her. "So are you deaf or mute?" He made sure that he formed the words on his lips clearly, just in case it was the first. Jordan could sign a little, but he was rusty. Not having had to sign since he was young, when his father used to treat a deaf man back in Alaska before the man died in one of the many white outs they had had that winter. He had showed off with it in college, just a few times, trying to pick up a pretty mute girl. Other than that, he didn't feel comfortable with signing. Although he was sure this girl had been put through worse than his horrible antics at the communication.