Luke bobbed his head back at the question, drawing his lower lip into his mouth as he pictured M-girl. Moira, Maggie... "Molly!" he said, the air beneath his feet buoying him upward a few inches as he had his little epiphany. "Molly is the name of the... um. Distraction. You know, from the tavern? Red curls, pretty smile?"
His own smile remained open and (he hoped) encouraging in the face of her usual stoicism. Luke knew the Marshal had a sense of humor in there somewhere, it seemed like seeing too much of it wasn't in the cards today. Which made sense. She must've had her injection today too, after all. His feet brushed back down on the ground as they neared the infirmary, and an aide called back "Oi, we've got a straggler!"
Luke gave the aide a small salute. Straggler. Yep. That was him all over, and then he turned his head to nod gratefully up at the Marshal, whose kindness was far from lost on him. "Yes ma'am!" he said gaily. "I'll come right after my Sun Prayers, cross my heart." He hugged his hands briefly over his chest, then followed the aide back to the little office where the needle awaited him. "Won't be a minute!" he called.
It was considerably more than a minute later that Luke came back, rubbing his throbbing arm. Maybe he was wrong, but it sure felt like that injections were starting to hurt worse. Or maybe it was just his imagination. Either way, he looked perfectly easy as he strolled out from the back room and ambled over to the Marshal. "Lukas Fox, reporting for jail," he said gaily. "Sure hope the cell hasn't changed much. I like what's familiar."