There's only six or seven REAL people in any given universe...

[standsbychamp]

There's a handful of people downstairs who have nothing to do with one another but are getting only one post between them, because their narration is lazy and doesn't want to make six separate posts.

Florence is sitting towards the back of the restaurant, singing softly and off-key to herself. It's quite possible - nay, likely - that she's drunk

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[foolinaposition]

Toly has been looking for Florence and is only slightly relieved to find her in her current state. Gently, he takes her into his arms, "Florence... milaya... what are you doing here?"

[standsbychamp]

"Getting pissed off my arse, what's it look like?" She takes another sip of her alcoholic smoothie. No shit. She wanted to hide the alcohol.

In her defense, she came up with that idea when she was already drunk.

"Want a sip? Tastes like mangoes."

[foolinaposition]

He gently took the smoothie away and set it down, then tried to pull Florence away as well. "No, and you shouldn't have any either."

[standsbychamp]

"Oi!" Florence protested. "I'm a... bloody adult, and I have a... a right to have as much bleeding alcohol as I damn well please!"

Except when she abuses it, of course.

[foolinaposition]

"Yes of course, dear," he says, as he does so often whenever Svetlana asks him a question, or for his opinion on something unimportant. Yes, of course, dear takes care of many situations, and he hopes it will help here, too.

[standsbychamp]

"Don't... don't give me that... that evasive 'yes, dear' bullshit!"

Nope. Won't work.

She gets serious (if unbalanced) all the sudden. "I'm very tired. Of... of everything."

[foolinaposition]

"But this isn't helping, I'm sure. Please just... come back to the room? We can talk."

[standsbychamp]

Florence ponders this.

Okay, yeah, she'd like to go back to his room. She's been spending so much time in her room with Walter lately... she's missed her Tolya. Even if she had perfectly valide reasons for wanting to be alone.

"'Kay," she mumbles. "F'r a little while. I gotta check on Walter, he hurt his hand."

...sort of.

[foolinaposition]

"Ah, of course," he said, humouring her. He wrapped an arm around her waist and started leading her to the room. "And how did he hurt his hand?"

[standsbychamp]

"Boyfriend broke it. 'Cept it wasn't really his boyfriend, it was one of the nightmares. Poor dear."

She has such love for that CIA agent.

[foolinaposition]

"Of course," he nodded, though he had no idea what Florence was talking about. "How awful for him."

[standsbychamp]

"I think... oh..." Florence stopped walking and swayed dangerously. "I don't think I can... um... the standing thing."

[foolinaposition]

"Here..." Anatoly carefully picked her up, like a bride, "Is that better?"

[standsbychamp]

She's tiny, so it shouldn't be that hard. She wraps her arms around his neck and closes her eyes, cheek resting against his chest. "My hero," she murmurs.