A tall, reserved young woman tucks her pen into the pocket of her white men's button-down shirt and approaches, head tilted curiously, hands hanging loose by her sides.
"I'm afraid that's not a relevant question," she says dryly.
There is a brief, delicate pause.
She glances back over his shoulder, tilts her head slightly in the other direction, and rests her gaze on a point somewhere across the room for a few seconds . It's hardly noticeable; in mere moments, she's looking ahead once more, towards the fireplace.
"What?" He replays what the girl just said, still standing and staring at the countertop across the room. "Look, just -- what part of Canada are we in?"
A tall, reserved young woman tucks her pen into the pocket of her white men's button-down shirt and approaches, head tilted curiously, hands hanging loose by her sides.
She says nothing.
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"S-s-sorry," he says, through chattering teeth. "I got a little lost. I-is there a phone I could . . .?"
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She pauses, contemplatively.
"You should sit by the fire. It's warmer there."
Hannibal hasn't quite decided whether or not she feels solicitous enough to welcome him to Milliways, explain Milliways, or find him a shirt.
But this not-Will, whoever he is, is certainly terribly interesting.
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Hannibal avoids looking to the Window. That can come later, when not-Will is more settled.
"This way." Navigating the tables can be complex; the fireplace is across the room. Providing a guide to it is entirely sensible.
She wishes her other were here.
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He follows her, blowing on his fingers and rubbing his arm to get some circulation flowing.
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There is a brief, delicate pause.
She glances back over his shoulder, tilts her head slightly in the other direction, and rests her gaze on a point somewhere across the room for a few seconds . It's hardly noticeable; in mere moments, she's looking ahead once more, towards the fireplace.
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He follows her glance, instinctively.
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As he watches, she lays a hand on the surface and produces a pile of neatly folded cloth via apparent magic.
"Milliways is not quite in a town," explains 'his' version as her double picks up the gift and approaches.
They've reached the couches; it's only another few feet to the Hannibals' customary comfortable spot by the fire.
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--what did she just do at the bar?
"What?" He replays what the girl just said, still standing and staring at the countertop across the room. "Look, just -- what part of Canada are we in?"
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A brief, understated gesture in the direction of a comfortable armchair.
The Window, and accompanying explanations, can come when her double gives him his blanket and shirt.
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He accepts the implied invitation and sits, frowning at her. Them.
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The other points in silence to the Observation Window.
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And freezes, staring.
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