milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Anthy's at a window table, slowly draining a mug of Darjeeling tea. She has a boiled egg in a cup in front of her, as yet untouched.

Her biological functions are none of your business.

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"Yes, I . . . have a job," she says, after a moment. "Outside the bar."

"So, most days I do leave."

He nods vaguely.

"The door works ... right for you, then."

Behrooz is good at deduction.

"Sometimes it squeaks when I open it," she says earnestly. "I think the rain can make it rusty."

Um. He just nods again.

"I guess it could," he agrees quietly, "Has it been... raining a lot in your world?"

Oh dear. The weather.

She pauses.

Thoughtfully: "No, not really."

"Oh."

Pause.

So.

"Have you been... gardening recently?"

"I've been looking after the roses," she says readily, "but . . . it's winter, so they don't require as much care."

"It's cold outside, isn't it?"

"Yeah. It is here. I guess it's... not going to be winter... soon, though."

There's a pause while Anthy parses that.

"Yes, spring is coming," she says, brightening. "Isn't it?"

"I guess in a month or so," he says, not showing much enthusiasm either way. "It'll get better out there. At least, not as cold."

"And with growing things," she adds.

Doesn't Behrooz like being punched in the nose with floral scents and stung by bees?

The former especially now.

"Yeah."

Beat. "Did you ever go ice skating?"

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