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[arealhistorian.livejournal.com]

The house is big. It is, most definitely, a big house. But Abigail's been through every room in it, knows where everything is, and it pretty sure she also knows where everything isn't.

Like, for example, a bar. She's pretty sure that's not in the house. And she's really, really sure that it's not where her bedroom used to be.

She takes a hesitant step forward, glancing around wide-eyed, before straightening up and squaring her shoulders. Abigail Chase is nothing if not a practical woman, and if she's met creepy tunnels through tombs and rickety ancient staircases without turning away, she can certainly handle an unexpected bar.

Someone should probably let her know where she is, though.

Comments

[torch-reporter.livejournal.com]

"First time, huh?"

Chloe, coffee, and bar stool. Grinning very much at the other woman's momentary confusion while remaining completely oblivious to a certain disagreement going on.

[arealhistorian.livejournal.com]

Abigail eyes her up and down, thoughtfully. The woman doesn't appear to be put out at all, which suggests that this is normal. Or that she's seen a lot of people turn up. Or both.

But she does want answers, and so moves forwards, taking a bar stool next to Chloe. "Ah - yes. Yes. Where is here, exactly?"

[torch-reporter.livejournal.com]

"Milliways Bar, end of the universe - take your pick."

She takes a sip of her coffee, shrugging. Chloe has never been the most helpful with first time introductions.

[arealhistorian.livejournal.com]

Abigail cocks her head to one side, eying Chloe out of the corner of her eye. Okay, so normal is relative. Maybe this is a dream. An extremely vivid and strange dream, but nonetheless.

"Yes," she says carefully, in an easily-heard I am humoring you tone. "I see. Thank you. I should probably be going now."

[torch-reporter.livejournal.com]

Chloe shakes her head. "Trust me, you don't. You haven't even seen the Observation Window yet."

But maybe a bit of normality would help? She holds out a hand. "Chloe Sullivan, by the way."

[arealhistorian.livejournal.com]

She gets eyed up for another minute before Abigail finally extends her hand as well. "Abigail Chase. Pleased to meet you," she says, before going straight for the kill. "And please start again. Where are we? I take I'm not dreaming."

[torch-reporter.livejournal.com]

"Abigail Chase??" Chloe's eyes widen as she looks Abigail over. "Hold on a minute - as in Abigail Chase, treasure hunter extraordinare?"

[arealhistorian.livejournal.com]

"Yes, yes." A hint of pride mixed in with the impatience. "I don't know you, do I?"

Chloe. Chloe. It rings a bell, somewhere.

[torch-reporter.livejournal.com]

She shakes her head. "We haven't exactly met, but I'm kind of going to make a stretch and say Riley's probably mentioned me?"

[shortofcrazy]

Riley is sitting with a decent view of the door (all the better for watching it with, my dear), with a sandwich and a shiny black MacBook and computer components strewn across the table.

It's an old story.

He takes a bite of sandwich.

The door opens.

A mouthful of bacon, lettuce, tomato, and rye bread falls onto the plate.

[arealhistorian.livejournal.com]

Finally, some vague normalcy to cling onto. Although if it turns out this is a dream (and that she's dreaming about Riley), she may just have to see a psychiatrist. Yes, Doctor, I dream about my boyfriend's best friend eating like a pig in a magically appearing bar.

What she says out loud, though, is "Don't chew with your mouth open. You're here too?"

[shortofcrazy]

Riley swallows what little of the bite actually remained in his mouth, sets the sandwich down on the plate, and says, "...Abigail. Hi."

(He is very helpful.)

He doesn't know why he wasn't expecting Abigail to find this place. Ben did, after all. But Milliways just doesn't quite seem like good old Abigail's cup of tea.

[arealhistorian.livejournal.com]

"Hi," she says, putting that special I'm running out of patience emphasis on the word. "It's nice to see you. How have you been? And why is there a bar in my bedroom, Riley?"

Clearly, he's got something to do with it. He's here, he's looking shifty. In her experience? Pretty much pins it on him.

[shortofcrazy]

She's being very Abigail-ish. That actually makes this easier.

Riley holds up a finger. "Actually, the door is in your bedroom," he points out. "The bar isn't. It occupies its own special little place in space and time."

[arealhistorian.livejournal.com]

"Okay. Space and time." And that, right there, that's the tone she uses especially for Riley. He should know it. It means that she's humoring him, but he'd better get to the point soon before she rips him a new one.

"So the bar is...not in my dimension?"

[shortofcrazy]

"You say that like it's weird," says Riley. He peers around her. "Where's Ben?"

Don't think he isn't enjoying being a veteran here while you're a flaily newb, Abigail.

[arealhistorian.livejournal.com]

Abigail's dealt with smug!Riley before. She calmly reaches out, takes hold of his chin, and moves his face back in line with hers.

"Riley," she says, too sweetly.

(fear, Riley, fear)

[queenofmay]

Abagail's door had just closed when suddenly it opened again behind her.

(Most decidely not showing a view of her house as it had only seconds before.)

Marian, on the other hand, had just opened her bedroom door with the intention to go convince her father of the means to her new decision. As she hadn't been looking up, she stepped out and right into the woman who was standing in front of the door.

[arealhistorian.livejournal.com]

Instinct has Abigail stepping back, blinking in surprise. "Oh, excuse me. I didn't-" and then her brain catches with the rest of her.

She stops. Peers at the woman suspiciously. "Did you just come out of my bedroom?"

Ben may have some 'splaining to do.

[queenofmay]

Even though the only outward signs Marian gave were a mild wince and a hand going to her lower abdomen, pain ricocheted through her body during the collide. Her eyes watered, as she looked up to make a comment about her own bedroom and--

--stopped.

Her gaze shifted over the woman's shoulder to the area.

Milliways?

It did have the oddest timing.

"I am sorry. I was not looking," Marian said looking up at the unfamiliar woman.

[arealhistorian.livejournal.com]

Which, of course, doesn't actually answer her question. Abigail folds her arms and unconsciously taps the toe of one foot on the ground.

"May I ask why it is that you're coming out of my bedroom?"

[queenofmay]

Marian gave her a sharp, appraising look.

The kind of look a woman who almost died a few hours ago normally wouldn't, crossing between wow, aren't you sweet and oh, you're new. The hand that had strayed to her side stayed at her side.

"I am going to assume you are new to Milliways and the Front Door system," Marian said, managing to keep even a small note of condescension out of it. The exhaustion she did not keep out so well. "I didn't come from your bedroom. I came from mine. The door opens to many places and times."

[arealhistorian.livejournal.com]

It...actually makes sense, in a twisted and dreamlike sort of way. Abigail contemplates that for a long moment, and eventually decides that given she's in a magical bar anyway there's no reason for the woman to be lying.

Although Ben is going to get questioned next time she sees him. Without a doubt.

"I see. I apologize, in that case." She offers a hand, if somewhat reluctantly. "Abigail Chase."

[queenofmay]

"Lady Marian," she said, taking the hand, as though it's a normal habit now.

Milliways was a wonder that way.

"As your first drink is on the house, why don't we pick up refreshments and I'll do my best to explain what has happened to you?"

[arealhistorian.livejournal.com]

"I know what's happened to me," Abigail says, maybe just a touch crabbily. "I've walked into some kind of anomaly that looks like a bar. I don't know why."

But the first drink does sound delicious.