milliways_bar | (no subject)

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angela montenegro

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Running is a habit. A useful habit, but still habit, and just because she is now living on a spaceship is no reason to stop. Of course, Esfir had never banked on the doorway turning into the doorway to Milliways.

Which is why she runs in through the front door, and has to swerve to hit a table.

She'll be able to explain (front door, those science fiction-esque clothes) once she catches her breath.

Just give her a moment.

[tiny!tag: the russian astronaut]

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Angela looks up from her table, distracted by the motion.

"Hey, that was quite an entrance. Are you okay?"

Hands on knees for a moment, then she straightens.

"Not expecting table," she manages, smile crooked.

"Tables are sneaky," Angela says.

And, hell, here she wouldn't put it past the furniture to all have personalities and move about when you weren't expecting it to.

"As are doors, apparently," Esfir adds, glancing back at the front door. Now that her breath is more even, the Russian accent is easier to pick out.

"Yes.

"Though the ottomans are the ones you really have to watch out for."

She grins and holds out a hand.

"Angela Montenegro."

She grins back, and then walks over to shake her hand.

"Esfir Shostakovna."

"Very nice to meet you," Angela says.

"Would you like something to drink?"

"I may be prepared to kill for some water."

Beat.

"And then maybe proper coffee."

"I think water and coffee can both be arranged, and probably without any carnage required."

She signals for a waitrat.

"You're welcome to join me, if you like."

"Good. Cells would be annoying."

Then, because she's in a good mood, she smiles and nods.

"I might for a bit, until I have to go again."

"That's fine."

Angela grins.

"Do we do the exchange of whens and wheres now?"

"I think so. So, used to be 1965, Moscow. Now...I can't remember the year, and..."

Pause, wide smile.

"A spaceship. I fear anything else may be classified."

"Classified I understand. Not for anything as exciting as a spaceship, but,
it comes up in what I do.

"I'm from Washington, DC and it's 2008."

"Ah. There seem to be a lot of people from after 2000."

Angela considers this and then nods.

"Yeah, I guess there are. I wonder how . . . whoever it is . . . picks. Or if there's any actual picking, or we just wind up here."

Esfir orders a glass of water and a cup of black, proper, Russian coffee at the waitrat standing patiently by (she orders in Russian, from sheer habit),

"Would you like anything?"

"Hey, Esfir," Bela says, sitting at the table from which Esfir just swerved. "Something chasing you?"

She eyes the front door balefully.

She shakes her head, which will have to do for an answer until she catches her breath.

"I run every morning. When I can. Not expecting bar, though."

"Oh, good. Nothing's wrong then."

Bela pushes a chair out for Esfir to sit in, if she likes.

Esfir grins, sitting down and stretching out her leg as she does so.

"Not a thing."

(under the table, she might just knock on the table leg to make sure)

Bela glances down at her unfinished pasta primavera. She hasn't been very hungry of late. There's a lot wrong for her right now, but Bela is very good at pretending things are just fine.

She's definitely not going to ask if Esfir's seen Cal. You can't rely on anyone but yourself. Bela knows this only too well.

"When you come with me to New York, I'm going to take you to the Nike superstore. You can find all sorts of running gear there."

(Esfir may be tempted to finish off her food for her. She has issues with not eating everything on the table)

"I...I know most of those words, but I don't understand. Superstore?"

She laughs. "Sorry. I will take you to a large store that only sells items pertaining to sport. They have shelves of running shoes to choose from, for example."

Congratulations, Bela. You've managed to do something no one else has done in Milliways; made Esfir's mouth fall open.

"Shelves?"

Her voice does not, for the record, squeak. Not at all.

"Many of them, actually. America is not called the Land of Plenty for no reason."

"Oh.

And it would be like that with other things, too? Dresses and pots and...other things?"

"Oh yeah," she says, a grin slowly spreading on her face. She usually doesn't shop at Macy's, but she thinks that will have to be a stop on the tour.

"You can find anything you like. In a wide variety of styles and colors."

Slowly, very carefully,

"I think...I'm fine with shoes. In Han's world, they are not the same, anyway. But. Could we see those?"

"We can see whatever you like. You'll be the guest of honor."

And despite everything, the tiny young woman looks almost...giddy at this.

"We should do a spa treatment, too. Do you like massages? Facials, manicure, pedicure - we could do the whole works."

"You aren't speaking English," she observes, but despite the dry tone she has a smile.

"I am, too," she says in Russian.

"No, no, you'll have to experience it to find out. Trust me. I guarantee you'll love it."

"Okay..." she says, slowly. "I look forward to it, then."

"Just let me know when you'd like to go. It's a fun time right now, for most people. A little over a month until Christmas. It's all very picturesque."

Bela hates the holiday season, but she's learned to make the best of damn near anything.

Esfir nods.

"It might not be for a little bit - I'm training for a battle right now. But, we'll see how sick of drills I get."

"Ew, drills. I'd hate that. But then again, I'd hate anyone telling me what to do."

"I'm used to it." Beat. "And putting up with it until I know the world enough to make my own way."

"That makes sense. Still. I am definitely not a soldier."

"No. I can't see that."

"But I can shoot well."

She beams.

"Good! It's important."

You never know when you might need to use a gun, after all.

"I...am only decent at it. Pilots don't get much practice at ground weapons."

"We can go to my shooting range then. I've an extra gun you can borrow."

She has a few extra guns, actually.

"Dresses and guns.

Sounds excellent.."

"See? I told you I'd show you a good time."

Plus it will fill some pretty empty days with something.

"That you did." Then she laughs, getting to her feet. "I need to get back, but...I'll catch you when I'm sick of drills. Or after the battle, depending."

"Bye, Esfir. It was good talking with you."

She's being totally sincere.

"Take care, yeah?"

"You, too."

And with that, she waves and jogs off.

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