milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Last time was just a dream.
Or at least, she'd assumed it was a dream.
So this time must be a dream, as well.
That's as close as Christine gets to actual logic.

Therefore, when she delicately steps through the door, in a completely different, but equally extravagent dress, to find herself in the bar, she doesn't faint, but only gasps and places her hand on her exposed bosom ever so gently.

Okay, she may faint soon. There's dead people in this bar, after all.

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*Meg stows the smelling salts away and obliges. She is used to reading Vacant Looks.*

I'm Meg, *she offers.* Giry. And yeah - I'm a ballerina.

*She is half-expecting Christine to shriek and announce that that is the name of her oh-so-helpful friend back home.*

"Max Evans," the alien contributes. "I'm ... a high school student." Such an interesting occupation, that.

"If you've met Isabel Evans, we're twins. And Michael Guerin's my best friend."

Christine doesn't oblige Meg. Why would she be friends with a ballerina?

"Meg! Thank you!" she does exclaim, as if the name had merely escaped her. "It's good to meet you, Max!"

*Meg perks up immensely at that.*

Oh, of course I know Isabel! I'm maid of honor at her -

*She belatedly realizes that Max might not yet know about this particular tidbit of gossip, and breaks off, looking rather sheepish.*

"... wedding," Max finishes a bit helpfully for Meg. "She told me earlier. I nearly spit Coke on her face, which wasn't helping the image of how much we'd missed each other." Earlier today, or yesterday, or however you'd like Millitime to work.

He's still smiling, though. "It took some warming up to, but I'm all right with it. For now. I still haven't met him."

No turning the conversation away from Christine, now. The right shoulder of her dress has worked its way up again. The left still hangs on her arm.

"Oh! Your sister's getting married! That's lovely!!" she declares to max, her pretty eyes sparkling.

I know Warren well, too, *Meg adds,* and he's -

*She hesitates over 'a nice guy', and decides tactfully on,* a good friend with some very good qualities.

"Trustworthy and good to Isabel ... that's all that matters to me. She's probably told everyone how overprotective I am," Max replies with a grin.

Turning to Christine again, he nods. Still not staring at the ... dress. Or else just trying really hard not to. The sparkliness of her expression is distracting enough. "Certainly lovely for her, and I'm hoping it plays out well. Izzy's not usually as careful as she should be."

It is a very very lovely... dress. Both shoulders are back where they started again. But then her face is very lovely, too. Her hand still rests gently on his arm.

"I'd simply love to meet her!" she says, with a relatively gentle squeak. "But I do think I should be heading back to the Opera House! I'm in The Barber of Pseudopolis tonight!"

Well, *Meg agrees cheerfully, in the same sort of tone you'd use to a sweet but dim seven-year-old,* you'd probably best go warm up, then. You wouldn't want to disappoint your public, and all.

"The barber of where?" Max can't help but wonder. He's never heard of Pseudopolis. And having taken Latin, it seems like a strange word.

"Pseudopolis!" Christine replies to him. "It's a very very famous Opera! But yes, I must go warm up! Thank you, Meg!"

To Max, sweetly, "Could you walk me to the door, please?"

*Meg rolls her eyes and steps tolerantly back.

Max can take care of himself. In theory.*

Max is chivalrous, even if the soprano is just slightly creepy. Turning to Meg, he gives her a quick sideline eyeroll in return before smiling at Christine.

"If you'd like," he says, offering his arm.

She takes his arm and smiles warmly at him and at Meg. "Thank you very much, Meg, you are sweet!" she says, hugging Meg with her spare arm.

Glad to help, *Meg says cheerfully, and gives her a friendly pat on the back, since her head is too tall. Darn everyone being taller than she is.*

She's not that much taller, but she smiles brightly and the ballerina as Max walks her to the door, which she opens and lightly skips through, but not before planting a kiss on his cheek.

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