milliways_bar | (no subject)

Mel also has coffee and waffles. She's also seen this guy around the Staff Quarters. With these things as conversation starters, she drops into a chari at the same table.

"Hi."

He nods, standing up just enough for a small bow. "Good morning."

"Mm. Waffles," came the female voice from behind the son of Gondor.

If he turned around, he would find a strange-looking girl, even by her world's standards. Today, Abby Sciuto was dressed in a black mini-T, black and red plaid mini skirt, fishnets, and metal jewelry. She was off of work today, which would explain the lack of her white lab coat. Oh, and her pigtails were in place, too.

He takes in the young woman without comment. "Good morning. I have grown quite fond of waffles."

She grins at the bow. "Very old school.

"I'm seen you in the new wing. Thought I should say hi properly."

"Old school . .? I suppose my manners could be considered old-fashioned, considering.

"I have seen you as well. I am Boromir, son of Denethor. Who might you be?"

"Might be a lot of people," she smirks.

"My name's Melaka. Fray."

"Waffles are always good, especially when accompanied by caffeine," Abby said with a sage nod as she slipped onto the seat next to Boromir at the bar.

"The usual, please," she asked the bar, and it produced her big-gulp of sugarly carbonated caffiene, as usual. Smiling, she sipped at the drink happily. And people wondered why she was so perky all the time.

"I don't think I've seen you around here," she told the man, cocking her pigtailed head to one side.

"Good morning, Melaka. You are a warrior, I see." He indicates the big stabby on her back. It is, truly, an impressive weapon.

"I have been here only a few days."

She grins the grin of shinypride, because she loves her big stabby.

"Y'could call me that, I guess," she concedes. "s'not really a word I'd use.

"What about you? You in the evil-fightin' business?" she asks, tucking into her waffles.

"Makes sense." Another nod, and another sip from her drink. At least Abby's not working off of Red Bull like that time she drank about seventeen at one party.

"I'm Abigail Sciuto, by the way." She felt an odd need to actually tell him her real name. Maybe it was the whole warrior thing going on. She stuck her hand out for a handshake with a friendly grin.

He clasps her hand and lightly kisses the back. "I am Boromir, son of Denthor," he says and lets it go. "I am pleased to meet you, Abigail."

"I am a soldier, yes. The enemies of my country are cruel and brutal--quite evil ."

Well, that certainly wasn't what she expected. It seemed that this man was quite a gentleman. Not that Abby minded at all. Oh, no. It was a pleasant change in attitude compared to the military men she usually dealt with.

"Abby's fine. Abigail sounds...so formal." And old. "No one calls me that, anyway." Except for Ducky, but he was the exception.

"And it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Boromir." And no, Abby is not going to point out how the name Boromir is familiar to her. No matter how tempting it is.

"Would I be right when I guess you're a military man type?" She asked, cocking her head.

"Oh right, a professional," Mel says. It's not derisive, just a statement of fact. "Must be nice to get paid for it. Me, I hafta keep my day job."

"It is my family's duty to protect Gondor," Boromir explains. "We are the stewards until such time that the king returns. Though I understand my king was truly crowned, as history went, and founded a new dynasty.

"I am glad for that."

"Yes, good lady--I'm a longtime soldier, since I was strong enough to lift a sword."

Sara has coffee and bagels. She's been looking for familiar people, and so wanders over.

"Good morning."

She tugs on the green braid in her hair.

"Yeah... sounds jake."

Good lady? Abby definitely knew that Tony would snicker if he heard that. Hell, even Gibbs might. But then Kate would kick Tony and she could tease Gibbs about his inability to deal with technology, so it was all good.

"That's what I thought. I work with military types, so I can usually tell." Sure, Abby, sure. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she loved fantasy, did it?

"'Jake'?" Is there no end to these words he doesn't know? He sighs and sips his coffee.

"Ah . . . you come from a time like my friend Sara's, I suspect. Women are not soldiers in my time, but I understand they are warriors or work for the City Guard in others."

"It means, uh... cool," Mel is used to explaining her slang. "I mean, uh, a good thing."

"Good morning, Sara," he says warmly.