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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[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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