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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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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