Cameron watched as Irene scanned the bar, having spent more than enough time in pubs to know a closing down procedure when she spotted one. She reached back, sliding the delicate silver clasp (one of the few expensive things that survived the transition from her previous life) off of her ponytail, working her fingers through her hair, feeling the road dust that had collected, forming what she imagined as a shell over the outer layer of her hair.<em>Gods, I need a wash...</em>she thought to herself, shaking her head as she let her hair fall down around her shoulders, leaning forward a bit on the bar to nurse her drink.<br/><br/>"Got somethin' on your mind, Sweet?" she asked Irene as the woman's eyes drifted to the seat the Marshall had so recently vacated. The woman was something of a mystery to Cameron, how she came to work here. It might be interesting to peel back the layers.<br/><br/>She rested her chin on her fist, feeling the warmth of the alcohol starting, a light numbness that hung around the back of her head, a small smile resting on her lips.