ikissdhimbck | OOM: Down in the East Texas Town of Galveston... -- 1888 -- for X-23

X flicks a quick look around the room, making sure to mark every potential exit point and hiding place.

It is habit.

Then she looks at Kate, head tilting very slightly.

"I do not think there will be unpleasant surprises."

In case Kate was worried.

"Then y'might wanna hold on t'your undergarments."

Nothing quite so unpleasant a surprise as a corset.

She undoes the twine on the paper bundle she laid on her bed, pulling it open to reveal fringed cowhide trousers, a blouse, and a tailored ladies jacket.

"Have a look. I'll getcha a pair of boots."

X has worn them before. Corsets, that is. They were survivable.

But she holds on to her underwear anyway.

It only makes sense.

"Okay," is her prompt response to Kate's instruction. "I think it is acceptable."

Then she gets down to the business of stripping off and re-dressing herself in more location-appropriate gear.

It all fits very well. And her range of motion is not notably impeded.

Good.

She's quick. By the time Kate comes back with a pair of boots that should fit, she's already dressed.

"Hoowee. If I didn't know any better, I'd think y'was from around these parts."

She beams. It's — nice. Having a friend here.

"It is better to be efficient," X offers.

It's kind of like an explanation.

And the relaxation in the set of her shoulders is definitely like X's version of a smile.

"Somethin's missin', though."

She narrows her eyes, giving X a once-over.

"Ah-ha! I know what it is."

Handing over the boots, she heads back to the wardrobe.

X does not look wary.

She trusts Kate.

And she is also busy putting on her boots.

Barefoot in Texas is not how she wants to be remembered.

There are some who'd use that as a form of torture.

The sand here gets hot.

"This may not fit y'perfect. I admit, it was kind of an indulgence."

She's carrying over a beautiful black duster.

"It's the first thing I bought when I got back t'the bar. Try it on."

"Oh."

X looks more than a little startled, though she reaches out for the duster quickly enough.

"It does not fit you?"

Is there another reason Kate would offer it?

In the meantime, X carefully slips it on, testing weight, fit, and range of motion.

Hmm.

"It fits me all right."

She chuckles, shaking her head.

"Looks damn pretty on you, though."

Beat.

"Smart, I mean. Ain't nobody'd mess with you walkin' down the broad way wearin' that."

X considers this, head tilting momentarily.

Then --

"It will not make them try to see if they can?"

Not that she is opposed to this.

It will not take long for anyone to learn better. But maybe that will be problematic.

For Kate.

"Honey, I couldn't rightly tell you what goes on in a man's head."

She's tried to figure that out once or twice.

It's best to save herself the aggravation.

"But anybody who's smart surely won't. An' anybody who's not won't take long t'figure it out."

She steps to the side, drawing X's attention to the standing mirror by her wardrobe.

"What d'you think? How d'you feel?"

X ignores the mirror for the moment, choosing to take these first few minutes to test her range of motion in the coat.

Then, apparently deciding that is acceptable, she turns to look in the mirror, head tilting ever so slightly.

And after a few moments of intent study --

"I like it."

Truer words.

Kate beams.

"Good. Ready t'go, then?"

She can't remember the last time she felt this — excited.

She didn't realize how much she'd missed having a friend on her own turf.

X considers Kate's question for another second, just to be absolutely certain.

Then --

"Yes. I am ready."

She is pleased about this trip, too. Even though it might be more difficult to detect.

Her face does not lend itself to obvious expressions.

With one last nod, Kate slips her hat back on and leads the way to the door.

The hotel is open, grand for the time period. Kate's second-floor room opens up to an atrium, the hallway they step into supported by porticoes. Beyond the banister, the sounds from the first-floor saloon drift to their ears. Voices, a piano, glasses and silverware clinking. Kate leads X around to the stairwell.

There are folks dining, drinking, gambling, making light; there are finely dressed gentlemen and ladies at some of the tables, and working-class men with working girls on their knees at others. The spirit of the room is lively, and most seem to be in good spirits.

X's glance flicks around the room, noting potential methods if egress, blind spots, places with a good vantage point on the outdoors, and the relative proximity of everyone with a gun --

-- or any other weapon.

Conviviality happens to other people, apparently.

But at least she looks comparatively relaxed?

Some of the folk look up, others don't.

Some of the looks are friendly, others are — not, strictly speaking.

"Y'want a drink?"

Kate nods toward the bar while leading the way to the lobby, tossing in a reassuring smile.

"They've got root beer."

X tilts her head at the friendly looks, presenting them with a very careful -- and deliberate -- smile.

The other kind of look? That gets treated with her usual flat, affectless gaze.

It seems only fair.

She turns to look at Kate when her friend asks a question, though.

"If it will not be problematic. For you."

That is important.

"Please."

She chuckles quietly.

"Any other day'a the week, I've got lots of problems. But not today."

She leads the way to the bar, tossing X another grin.

"Today you call the shots."

She winks, and sets her palms flat on the bar, waiting for the keep to head their way.

"Afternoon, Miss James."

"Howdy, Carl. You're lookin' well. Could we get two sarsaparillas?"

"'Course. Anything for you ladies."

There's extra warmth in the way he smiles at Kate; however, X is afforded a polite nod before he moves off again.

X's nostrils flare as she scents the air.

Pheremones are difficult to escape.

But at least she's learned not to mention them?

"You are allowed to call some, too," X offers, flicking a sideways look at Kate.

"It is your world."

And X does not want to misstep.

She nods, taking the offer seriously.

"I know. You ain't familiar with the way things work here."

Kate won't let her misstep. But she's honestly not all that worried about it.

"I thought maybe stoppin' for a drink would give y'time t'look around an' get a feel for things, too. Ask questions, pick up on social graces — whatever makes y'feel most comfortable."

Carl returns with two mugs of sarsaparilla served at room temperature, and engages in pleasantries as Kate fishes out her coin.

"Don't believe I've seen your friend before."

He smiles at X.

"I travel," X says, gaze flicking from Kate's face to Carl's, and back again.

"A lot."

It keeps her busy.

And, considering Milliways, it is very, very true.

Carl tilts his eyebrows and opens his mouth with a silent 'ah.'

"She keeps a ranch down in San Patricio," Kate grins, tucking her purse away. "It calls for a lotta movin' an' shakin'."

"Well," he says with an exaggerated drawl. "A pair of successful ladies like you's gonna turn this place on its ear."

"I surely hope so."

Kate's smile is diamond sharp and friendly. She raises her glass to Miss X, checking to see how she takes to the story.

Carl slips off to help another customer.

X flicks a glance at Kate, nodding once -- very slightly.

"People will not ask for specifics? About the ranch."

Beat.

"And you will tell me where San Patricio is?"

Maps are X's friend.

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