suoxi | for striker

Oh, this should be an interesting encounter.

"By all means...let us continue." She gestures.

He chuckles again. "You can help me make sure Max doesn't try to eat anything he isn't supposed to."

"I promise - I won't let Max eat any entrails."

And -- this can only go...interestingly.

"You'll be doing me a great service."

As expected, the meeting went...interestingly. Newt seemed to be more tongue-tied than usual, and the only reason Hermann fared any better was because he was quite obviously enjoying mocking his friend.

Hercules stood back a little and watched the whole scene unfurl, an amused smirk on his face.

Ibarra handles herself with grace and dignity - as much as possible, anyway. She speaks with both of them pleasantly, treating them like people instead of freaks, which seems to earn more awkward from Newt and grudging respect from Hermann.

It's not too bad - could've gone worse.

It could have gone much worse. Max didn't even try to eat anything.

Hercules has to say, he's a bit relieved to get out of the lab so he doesn't have to look at those glowing tanks full of bits and pieces of kaiju innards. His hand comes up to rest against Inara's back again as he ushers her out of the room.

"So that's our science division."

She's rushed out quicker than necessary, and she glances over as they leave the duo behind.

"They're pleasant. Quirky -- but pleasant."

Hercules isn't overly fond of the science labs, he has to be honest. He likes kaijus where they used to be: at the end of his Jaeger. Up close and personal...no thank you.

"They get a bit wrapped up in their science and can be a little inconsiderate. Don't take anything they say personally, they probably didn't mean any harm."

"Oh, they're fine."

She doesn't mind, really. They're not so bad as some people she's met. She leans in to murmur;

"I prefer your company, though."

Again with the not blushing. He does smile, though, patting her on the shoulders before letting his hand drop.

"I suppose you're not so bad yourself."

She presses her free hand to her heart, looking awestruck.

"Why, thank you. I'll take that as a compliment."

One of the crew they pass grins at them and shouts, it's the best you're going to get from the Marshal! as they disappear down the corridor.

Hercules just shrugs helplessly.

Inara chuckles and just shakes her head.

"I'm not keeping you from anything, am I?"

"Nothing I'm not happy to be kept from," he replies, smiling reassuringly at her.

"If you're certain I'm not holding you up..."

She would hate to keep him from things that really needed to be done, though she can hardly be blamed if he chooses to do so -- right?

Her company is far preferable to the paperwork cluttering up his desk. And if it means he stays awake later than he should tonight? Well, that just means less time for nightmares.

"It's not a problem, I promise."

"Well then..."

She strolls with him, Max's leash in hand.

"How else are we to entertain ourselves today?" She leaving it in his hands.

"Do you have any preference?"

There really isn't much for them to do aside from work or train. And he doubts Inara really wants to spar with him.

...he'd be surprised, actually.

And she suggests they finish the tour and have dinner, though afterwards there are things they both need to handle. Inara needs to speak with he fellow Companions and he likely has things to catch up on

Still - the tradition continues, and Inara takes to visiting him daily.

Just because.

It goes on like that for weeks, months. Soon it becomes quite natural for people to see the Marshal and their first Companion — there are five who flit around the 'domes halls now, five beautiful colored butterflies threading in and out of the masses, five graceful and beautiful young women who have a smile for everyone they meet — walking side by side through the halls, accompanied by a fat bulldog.

Until one day, Inara will come to Hercules' office but there won't be an answer to her customary knock.

Max has been slowing down lately, and Herc had always put it down to him putting on weight or him getting old, and hadn't thought much of it. Until his dog suddenly starts throwing up and topples over, shaking, his tongue a frighteningly deep red as it lolls from his mouth into a puddle of his own vomit.

To say that Herc runs to the medical labs with his bulldog in his arms isn't an exaggeration. There's nobody on this whole 'dome trained in veterinary science, but Max is more than a dog to the inhabitants of this 'dome, and so he's basically treated like a human, being seen by the regular doctors, put through the regular machines.

And Herc stands off to the side with his hands stuffed in his pockets to hide how they shake, his face blank as he comes face to face with losing the last tie he has to his son.

When Hercules doesn't answer her knock, Inara is immediately concerned. Several more taps yields no response, either, and that triggers some alarm.

He's never been late - he's always answered.

She starts asking questions then, moving through the 'dome until she manages to cover someone and get some answers. Once she finds out where he is? She's immediately down there and walking right in in a flurry of burgundy silk skirts and dark curls.

"Hercules?" Her eyes light on him and she's immediately at his side, hands on his elbow and shoulder.

"What's happened?"

She's never called him Hercules before, always referred to him by his title out of respect, and he's never pushed the issue. He calls her Inara when they're alone or Miss Serra when speaking to others, and it's been perfectly fine.

Hearing her call him by name and feeling her touch him makes him roll his lips together and hold his breath, because otherwise he feels like he's going to shake apart.

"I-I don't know."

Being this emotional over a dog should make him feel ashamed, but there's not a dry eye to be found in the small cluster of people who've gathered around the door to the operating theater, watching as everyone's favorite bulldog gets put under anesthesia, a vet from down on Terpsichore video conferencing and advising the doctors on what to do.

"They're doing exploratory surgery. Doctor Lee thinks it could be a brain tumor."

It had...just been a knee jerk reaction. She hadn't even thought twice about addressing him by his name as opposed to his title.

Her fingers clutch at the material of his jacket as dread rolls through her body.

"Hercules..."

She doesn't even know what to say -- she knows how important Max is, how important he is to everyone. The only thing that she knows to do is stand right here, and take his hand. Anything she says would cheapen the situation.

If only it had been a knee-jerk reaction at some other time, because Herc already feels like he's going to cry, and her sympathy isn't helping matters at all.

Except in the way that it does, apparently, because her hand slides down his arm to find his and he pulls it out of his jacket pocket so she can slip her fingers between his and he can clutch at her, desperately clinging to his friend in an attempt to draw strength from her. Max is the closest thing Herc will ever have to a grandson, even though he's just a dog, and seeing him lying on the steel surgery table with an IV line slipped under his skin and a surgical drape covering most of his head makes him want to slide down to the floor.

He manages to stand upright for the whole of the surgery, back stiff, head held high, face completely blank. He stood tall as he listened to his son die, he can stand tall through this.

But then the surgery is over and a tumor the size of a lima bean is sitting innocuously in a dish by the wayside, and he's told all they can do now is wait and see. And now he doesn't know what to do.

She lets him grip her hand and doesn't budge from his side the entire surgery. She doesn't pat his arm condescendingly or offer any sort of false hopes -- she doesn't know where this is going, and she has no idea if Max will pull through.

It's a long time to stand in her finery, but she doesn't utter a sound of shift her feet, even though by the end every part of her aches from standing. Instead, she gives his hand a gentle little squeeze, reassuring and reminding him that she's still here, and still with him.

"...Come with me." She glances up at him, not just a little misty eyed. "I will fix you something warm to drink."

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