i look fly, i look good

JACK

"An' even when you don't need 'em to be," Jack agrees readily; he'd made his way as a kid through pickpocketing, petty theft and the odd break-in, and those aren't the sorts of skills one forgets all too easily. But then she's crossing over to him and presenting the back of the corset, the Captain scoffing out a laugh as he tugs the neat bow he'd tied free. "That ain't exactly fair," he says, though his tone suggests it isn't fair on her. "These things are easier to get out of than into."

Case in point, he's able to walk his fingers like a ladder along the ribbons and their criss-cross patterns, tugging them loose with each pass until she can practically shimmy out of the garment entirely. Of course, Jack doesn't expect that - he draws it away from The Ark with the same efficient care as he'd helped to place it on her. And with her once again bare to the warm Longheat afternoon, he grabs his first selection from the counter.

It's not lingerie exactly, but the deep crimson bralette is all lace and sheer panelling, and he passes it to her with a satisfied curl of his lips. To go with it he's selected a billowing blouse in white satin, cinched tight at the waist and left plunging towards her ample cleavage, and a pair of dark leather pants that hide none of her other assets. "Barefoot or boots?" he asks. "Lady's choice."

you're the last of a dying breed; write our names in the wet concrete
I wonder if your therapist knows everything about me

Code stolen from Queen Sky