(Untitled)

[stubborn_annie]

The door opens; on the other side, a bland, carpeted hallway can be seen. The dark-haired woman who steps through is carrying an overnight bag, large enough for perhaps a week's stay somewhere. It's not until she sets the bag down and turns around to retrieve her key that the nature of the place starts to intrude on her perceptions, and she doesn't

Comments

[stilljustandrew]

*Andrew's sitting at the bar tonight, eating a chicken sandwich and reading something by Ursula LeGuin.*

*He doesn't notice the new face just yet.*

[stubborn_annie]

Not a terrible surprise, really. It's not like she looks like anyone he knows.

"Excuse me," she says to no one in particular as she settles down at a nearby stool. "But has anyone seen a barman about? I could really do with a drink about now."

[stilljustandrew]

*No, her face isn't familiar at all. Her voice, on the other hand ...*

*Andrew turns to her, lowering his book.*

Uh --

*Is it actually her, though? All he's got is ten minutes of conversation over a cellphone, which isn't nearly enough to be sure....*

The usual guy's gone tonight, so orders are kind of coming slow.

[stubborn_annie]

"Ah," says Annie, wearily. "Lovely. Is there a substitute, or, I dunno, a waiter or summat? This is not where I meant to be."

[stilljustandrew]

There's the waitrats, they're pretty reliable.

This ... this'd be your first time here, then?

[stubborn_annie]

There's a small laugh. "Yes. The rats. Harry mentioned those."

She shakes her head, smiling out of only one side of her mouth; the other side is twisting downward, and she's got her forehead in her hand and her elbow on the Bar. "Sorry," she says. "It is. Some kind of bloody sick joke on the Universe's part-"

Then she blinks a moment, looking up.

"Here. Why do I know your voice?"

[stilljustandrew]

*Harry. He lets out a small sigh of mingled relief and sympathy.*

'Cause you phoned me up a while back. Four days by my reckoning, not sure how many by yours. Time's funny here.

[stubborn_annie]

Annie drops her hand, eyes gone wide. "Andrew?"

[stilljustandrew]

*He manages an apologetic smile.*

Hi, Aunt Annie.

[stubborn_annie]

She laughs. It's short, and dry, but this time it's real.

"What's a nice lad like you doing in what was gonna be my hotel room, eh?" she asks before shaking her head again. "Christ Almighty. Of all the bloody stupid- here, before I go off on a tear again, have you seen Harry? I was supposed to be meeting him..."

[stilljustandrew]

I've been looking for him, but no, I haven't seen him here yet, not since --

How long's it been for you, since we talked?

[stubborn_annie]

"Close to a week, not more than that," Annie says. "Dammit. He's going to go looking for me-"

Back to the forehead in hand.

"Fuck fuck fuckfuckfuck,", she mutters under her breath.

She's been married to a soldier for twenty years.

[stilljustandrew]

Frelling Milliways.

*a little helplessly* Sorry about this.

[stubborn_annie]

She waves her other hand tiredly. "It's all right, not your bloody fault, now, is it... damn it to hell, though, why'd it have to happen now? And why me? Harry's the one who's been looking to come here..."

[stilljustandrew]

You two were going to meet, you said?

*Andrew glances at the door.*

Maybe he'll show up here too.

[stubborn_annie]

"That'd be nice," Annie says. "It'd be the first real break we've caught in two years, other than Zuko turning out to have a real talent for thievery."