Whether it was the offer of personal satisfaction or the sweet plea that convinced him was hard to discern, but it was the latter that caused his amused smile to be tainted by a curious, surprised arch of one brow. She almost, contrary to his understanding of her, sounded like she not only wanted to avoid the shopkeeper but to... Express her gratitude, as she'd put it... For him. Actively, rather than passively accepting it as the lesser of two evils. Regardless of whether it was true or not, it gave him a moments pause while he considered it.<br/><br/>Finally, with his mind made up, he laughed softly and reached one hand to her hair, swiping it affectionately behind her ear then stroking across her newly exposed cheek with his decreasingly rare gentleness. His eyes were on the shopkeeper, and he adopted that special tone reserved for complimenting her without acknowledging her presence at all. She'd only heard it used by too-proper ladies speaking about their pampered dogs - 'and he's terribly well behaved -- aren't you, Rover?' - but it was at least a compliment of sorts. "She's too smart for her own good, it seems. It seems you're out of luck. I'll pay."<br/><br/>If the man was disappointed he didn't show it. His salesman smile remained fixed and he nodded his head, then waved toward a doorway closed only by a thick, black curtain. "As you say, Sir. Ring the bell when you want to pay and I'll show you out, until then noone will enter." He made an unnecessarily lecherous wink coupled with an equally slimy smile, then turned away and sidled back toward his booth.<br/><br/>Quentin nudged Zoey past then shepherded her through the curtain. The inside was set up like a shop, different only in that it was cordoned off for private use and in the wares. It was a large area - most of the substantially sized house, it seemed, and packed more or less floor to shoulder-height. Some of the displays were of clothes, though in all cases these were either skimpy, or too-tight, or fashioned after some uniform or another (there was a particularly acurate portrayal of the uniforms sported by the waitresses on the new steam rails, except with their chests entirely removed). Quentin had plenty of these, though, and it was some of the other displays that drew his eyes.<br/><br/>Whips, leashes, collars. There were toys, too, and blindfolds and gags and just about everything Zoey had every dreamt of since meeting Quentin, as well as a good portion of things she hadn't. Much of it was leather and much of it was black, but there were exceptions to both rules; the only feature that bound them seemed to be that they were in all cases very *private* items to be shopping for. Quentin glanced across, ever-relishing his favoured slaves initial reaction to being walked into a room selling all the kinkiest corners of his psyche made solid. "Well?" He prompted, before they had any time to explore the place in any real detail.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>