Michael Westen // Burn Notice // Pandimensional Space of Your Choice

[mm_lexa]

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[aimedforthemoon]

People appearing suddenly tends to happen in Milliways. Still, Esfir Shostakovna never really lost her Soviet Union induced paranoia, and having a highly adventurous seven-month-old baby around has only heightened it.

So, Michael has a tiny woman looking at him from her own table; expression mostly neutral, one eyebrow slightly raised, green eyes watchful, dark hair short, and one hand firmly holding onto the back of her son's jumpsuit.

[just_oneman]

Michael is used to people watching him, but he's also used to them at least pretending to be discreet about it. They also don't usually have children with them.

He looks back silently for a second before adressing her. "What?"

[aimedforthemoon]

"Are you oke?" She asks in way of an answer, Russian accent still noticable despite living years in another universe.

[just_oneman]

"Yeah," he answers, but it doesn't sound at all convincing.

Especially followed by the way he slumps against the table, rubbing his temples. He has to supress an urge to laugh. Now he's lying to his own subconcious. Hopefully this is his subconcious. He doesn't really want to consider the alternative.

[aimedforthemoon]

A faint smile, barely seen before it vanishes.

"Milliways up to its tricks, I suppose."

[just_oneman]

Michael looks up again, raising his eyebrows.

"Milliways?"

[aimedforthemoon]

"The cantina you find yourself in. Or is this your first time?"

[just_oneman]

It's been a very long time since Michael was speechless, but that just about does it.

When he finally does say something, what comes out is, "Am I dead?"

Somehow, he doesn't think he's making this up. Of course, this means the afterlife is a bar. Sam's gonna be happy when he gets here.

[aimedforthemoon]

"It's entirely probable, given you just appeared."

Not that the former cosmonaut has any personal experience in doing that, nope.

"Anything happen before to suggest it?"

[just_oneman]

He laughs. It's not a happy sound. "My apartment blew up."

Damn it, he should've known, he should've been checking for traps before Sam had to say anything. He let himself get rusty, and now he's paying for it.

[aimedforthemoon]

"...ah. Then, it is likely you are dead."

[just_oneman]

"Probably," he agrees, looking around properly for the first time. "So this is... what, hell?"

[aimedforthemoon]

She snorts, softly.

"No. It is a bar, and a very weird one. It is more of a waystation than a final destination."

[just_oneman]

He sits there for a second, and then lets out an impressed whistle. "Didn't see that one coming." He pauses, and then flashes the woman a smile that's not as shaky as it could have been. "I'm Michael Westen."

He'll be a little more freaked out when it sinks in, but for now, he's still in shock,

[aimedforthemoon]

She smiles back.

"Esfir Shostakovna."

[just_oneman]

He slips into Russian for the polite, "Nice to meet you, Esfir." Some people like it when you speak their language; using that is habit, something he does when he doesn't have to pretend he's somebody else.