useofaswhat | 009 ✫ Voice/Spam

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009 ✫ Voice/Spam

[Voice]

Just so y'all know, Nicole an' I'll get the boiler tonight. Do we got a dinner shift going here or are we fending for ourselves?

[Spam for Natasha]

[Sharing a room with Natasha might get a little awkward, but Mal has to admit that in an old-fashioned way it's a pretty nice one. There's a pair of double beds and a window looking out over an actual view, bleak and snowy though it might be. The place ain't exactly homey but for a stopover during a crash it's comfortable; at least there aren't any aliens this time. But funnily enough, whenever he looks outside he swears he sees Tracey's family graveyard on St. Albans.

Must be one of those times where looking out in the snow makes you see things. Mal shrugs his wool overcoat off and pushes the thought from his mind – he's got an inmate to deal with and a great amount to work through. That's far more important.]

Ladies first. Go ahead, pick your bunk.

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[Natasha valued her privacy, but she wasn't exactly shy; she'd shared rooms with Clint on missions plenty of times, and there was no way she trusted Mal as much as Barton, but she didn't distrust him, either.

Shrugging off her parka, she tossed it on the closest bed, closest to the door.]

The snow's picking up. [She nods toward the window, following one of his looks. At least she isn't seeing graves. Yet.] And of your planets get bad snow?

[So basically if she were Zoë and he were Clint everything would be cool.

More'n a couple. Some get nothin' but.

[He tosses his own jacket on the opposite bed and turns abruptly from the window (one dreary snowscape on a backwoods planet looks much like any other, he reminds himself) and turns to her. Tracey and his folks and St. Albans is not what he wants to dwell on right now. Too much work to be done.]

Where do you reckon they keep flashlights in a place like this? If that cellar ain't lit I don't fancy fighting with the furniture.

[Preeeeetty much, she's been sleeping in his room for months anyway. But the Admiral never makes things easy, so.]

Front desk, maybe. Or the closets. [Which is where she heads first, checking the very top shelves and the very back corners. And while she's looking, she could swear she heard a creak behind her, felt someone stepping close - but when she looks over her shoulder, ready to tell Mal that he missed his shot when he didn't hand over her file the first time she asked, there's no one there. A frown crosses her face, just briefly, and she shakes it off, rising on her toes again to finish looking.]

Nothing here. You find anything?

[Yeah, the most physical contact he ever had to think about while sharing barracks or tents with Zoë was whether she'd kick him in the ribs if he snored.

While Natasha scrounges the closet, Mal's combing through the wardrobe and finding nothing more exciting than empty wire hangers. The desk turns up nothing interesting either, just a blank pad of stationery and a King James Bible he doesn't even bother picking up.]

Nope. Wherever they keep the good stuff, it ain't in the room.

Want to go start up the heat?

[He should probably worry about the same thing here. She looks around, taking stock of the wires, the untouched bible, but she doesn't comment on them. When she looks back at Mal, she shrugs, and ignores the idea that she should hide one of those wire hangers under her pillow, just in case.]

Might as well. Why'd you volunteer?

[If he walks out of here with just bruised ribs courtesy of Natasha, he'll count himself lucky. In the meantime, he plans to keep one eye on her at all times, as well as one hand ready to draw.]

Why not? Crawlin' around in a cold dark cellar while trying to coax the breath of life into an old machine sounds like a right grand adventure, don't you think? Plus, I wasn't sure anyone else would.

[Smart. Move. Because she is absolutely doing the same.]

You have a very strange idea of adventure.

Tell me it don't beat sitting around in here all night.

Anything would beat sitting around here all night.

See? Now you got the idea. And it might be there's somethin' down there worth looking at besides the heater.

Wouldn't hold my breath on that, if I was you.

Don't people use their cellars for storage most times? Who's to say there's not something interestin' stashed away down there?

'Interesting' could be old newspapers or old bodies.

Given the Admiral brought us here with no announcement? My money's on bodies.

Exactly. If it's newspapers, maybe we can figure out what this place is. And if is bodies, I'd rather know about it straight off, wouldn't you?

[A sort of smile quirks her mouth, and she shrugs.] Can't argue with that.

See? I ain't quite as stupid as I look. [That's as much as he'll flatter himself.] You got a weapon on you? Your bite taser?

Was it cold where you grew up?

[She holds up her arm; it's strapped to her wrist around her shirt sleeve, like a weight. She...doesn't bother mentioning the knife and gun.]

Extremely. You don't know about Russia?

Good. [He holds open his coat; in addition to his usual gun there's another revolver strapped to his right hip.] I'm only good for six shots, but you let me know if you need anything else.

Yeah. It's supposed t'be a really big country, right? I know they had different climates on Earth-that-Was.

Edited 2012-11-25 03:30 (UTC)

[She makes note of the extra revolver, and nods. She'll at least have a few more shots to add to that, if need be.]

Very big, and most of it inhospitable. Have you heard of Napolean?

[Mal ruminates on the name for a moment before adopting the traditional Napoleonic pose – standing tall, with his right hand in his left lapel pocket.] Little Frenchling, wasn't he?

[That actually earns a smile, and she nods.] That's him.

He tried to invade Russia in the winter. It didn't go too well for him.

No, can't imagine it did. Hitler tried too, right? [He'd read about the Battle of Kursk while researching Russia on the sly – sounded like this second world war had produced some of the same tactics still in use during the Unification War.]

[Aw, he's been researching. She nods, mouth twisting wryly.]

The oil in his tanks froze during the nights. Napolean didn't prepare for how hard supply trains would be; Hitler was just stupid.

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009 ✫ Voice/Spam

[Spam] god I am so so so sorry this took all day :C

[Spam] you should be because I am in such a huge hurry >:[

[Spam] I am such a terrible person /o\

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