there we sat in the snow.

[iswimprettygirl]

Where: Joe West. Later outside!
When: After this thread.
Who: Milo, Helga, and two mugs of hot cocoa! With marshmallows!
What: Helga doesn't want to talk to Milo. Clearly, this means he should try to talk to her anyways.
Warnings: ...Depressing. ;;

Comments

[notasuggestion]

Lieutenant Helga Sinclair sat at the desk in her bedroom, her communication device off. Even shoved in a drawer. She didn't want to deal with Thatch right now. His insane optimism and reassurances that made her want to break his nose-- if not his neck.

She lived in a very different world. Was it the "real world"? More real than his, anyway. But she lived in a world of mercenaries and double-agents. Someone would stab you in the back... just before being stabbed in the back. Money bought everything from food to loyalty. Everything and everyone was for sale.

Not that she didn't still believe that. But in this world... some blend of hers and Thatch's and a hundred others... it was harder to play by her rules. In her world, everyone knew them. Thatch had his own set, and he seemed determined to make her live by them. Or at least point out the differences. Why couldn't he just accept that she was fine?

What had happened had happened. It was over. Buried.

Damn him.

[iswimprettygirl]

This mission was probably not going to be as easy as he'd assumed. Helga wasn't in her office--or anywhere else he'd checked--and if he didn't track her down soon, the cocoa would get cold. All the marshmallows had melted to foam already. And cold cocoa was just...well, that wouldn't do.

Stopping in front of Helga's bedroom, he set his mugs of cocoa on the floor and pulled out his communicator and attempted to call her. Once, twice, three time: nothing.

Maybe she'd turned it off? ...Was she that upset?

And what she was upset about was...

Milo frowned and raised a hand to knock on the door. With his knuckles an inch from the wood, he hesitated. Did he really want to talk to her about--about him? That was the reason Helga Sinclair was so worked up, wasn't it?

The man sighed. He let the back of his hand rest on the door.

And he knocked.

[notasuggestion]

Helga looked up at the sound of a knock on her door.

If that was a student looking for waiver forms or another one wanting to argue that they should be able to take her coming class without guardian approval or proof they didn't need a guardian... But she stood anyway. If she didn't answer, they'd probably just stay out there.

She went to the door, opened it, and one eyebrow quirked.

"Mr. Thatch."

[iswimprettygirl]