When the door next opens it doesn't swing, it slides. The space on the other side is the confining box of an elevator, holding a pair of nonplussed FBI agents
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The man-- Agent Mulder-- replies in a low grumble.
"That would depend on whether you are seeing an impossibly large English pub that seems to have appeared between floors of the Hoover Building. If not, I think I'm in trouble."
Her voice trails off as a wait rat walks by carrying an impossibly large tray stacked with the most amazing variety of drinks. Sure, martinis and margaritas, but also something that's smoking and bubbling in an iridescent blue, and something muddy green in a bowl that's -- writhing.
"Hm?" Mulder snaps back from staring around the room. "Sorry--" He pulls his own badge from his jacket's inside pocket, then nods to the young woman. "What can you tell us about this place? How did we come to be here?"
No sooner than they've stepped in, the door opens again and a young man walks in. He's covered in mud from head-to-toe, all except for clear outline around his eyes, and clutches a broom at his side. He's just been out on the pitch for Quidditch practice.
Mulder is-- perhaps understandably-- jumpy. Wandering into an impossible space bar is one thing, but nearly being accosted by someone who looks like a distant relative to a swamp monster is something else. That he doesn't pull his weapon on the kid is a testament to his training.
Scorpius wipes at his mouth with a disgusted grimace, tasting dirt. Not that it helps much, seeing as his sleeve is covered with the same amount of mud.
"Ugh. Uhm. No, Quidditch, actually. Not normally played on the ground, but the rain was too much and..."
He peers past them to the rest of the bar. "I wasn't expecting Milliways."
"Hm?" The russet-haired fellow with black-framed glasses, who was quietly reading a copy of QED by Richard Feynman, glances up from his book. "Oh," he says. "New here?"
"Nothing to apologize for," Gordon says. "Unless you created this particular dimensional anomaly, which I doubt."
He sets his book down and settles back from the table to get a better look at the newcomers. And does his level best not to let the recognition show on his face, although his eyebrows do wind up rising a little bit, if nothing else.
"We don't get a lot of Feds here," he says. "My name's Gordon Freeman. Welcome to Milliways."
Dana turns her head at the smell more than the voice. Really, this place is disconcerting, but the presence of something so welcoming makes it less so.
"Hi, yes. I'm Special Agent Dana Scully, this is my partner, Agent Mulder."
"Agents...?" she says, with a faint look of bemusement. The badges... yeah, she suspected government, but they aren't any sort of badge she's ever seen. The letters F,B, and I don't mean anything to her.
Despite her accent being most definitely North-Eastern United States-ish.
"Well, this is Milliways. It's not where you were," Rae says, setting a couple of cinnamon rolls on a plate and settling it on their side of the bar, where they can reach. "Milliways is the bar at the end of the universe - it likes to kidnap people, or at least show up where they don't expect it to."
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"Mulder, are you -- seeing this too?"
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"That would depend on whether you are seeing an impossibly large English pub that seems to have appeared between floors of the Hoover Building. If not, I think I'm in trouble."
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Her voice trails off as a wait rat walks by carrying an impossibly large tray stacked with the most amazing variety of drinks. Sure, martinis and margaritas, but also something that's smoking and bubbling in an iridescent blue, and something muddy green in a bowl that's -- writhing.
"Oh dear Lord."
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When she stands up, moving to approach them, the badge on her belt is visible.
She does not make much sound when she walks.
"You are not lost," she offers, once she's close enough for comfortable speech.
As far as beginnings go -- it might not be the worst one possible.
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"Special Agent Dana Scully, Federal Bureau of Investigation. This is my partner, Special Agent Fox Mulder. Mulder. Mulder."
She tugs on his sleeve.
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She does not have to.
"I do not know if it is magic or teleportation."
She offers a one-shouldered shrug, quick and easy.
"I do not know if anyone else knows, either."
Beat.
"This is Milliways. I am X-23."
This pause is half as long.
"Hello."
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He stops short of bumping into them.
"Oh, sorry."
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"…Not a problem."
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"Field hockey?"
She was going to guess rugby, but the broom threw her off.
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"Ugh. Uhm. No, Quidditch, actually. Not normally played on the ground, but the rain was too much and..."
He peers past them to the rest of the bar. "I wasn't expecting Milliways."
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"Yeah, you could say that. I'm Special Agent Fox Mulder--" he takes a moment to pull his badge, "--and this is my partner, Agent Scully."
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"Our apologies, we -- um -- we were just in -- " She turns and looks at the elevator doors. Still there. "The Hoover Building? Washington DC?"
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He sets his book down and settles back from the table to get a better look at the newcomers. And does his level best not to let the recognition show on his face, although his eyebrows do wind up rising a little bit, if nothing else.
"We don't get a lot of Feds here," he says. "My name's Gordon Freeman. Welcome to Milliways."
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Despite wearing suits instead of khaki, their manners remind her somewhat of the SOFs back home.
"Uh-oh," she says, wry but sympathetic. "You two new?"
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"Hi, yes. I'm Special Agent Dana Scully, this is my partner, Agent Mulder."
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"Maybe you can help us. We were riding an elevator, and didn't expect it to open… here."
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Despite her accent being most definitely North-Eastern United States-ish.
"Well, this is Milliways. It's not where you were," Rae says, setting a couple of cinnamon rolls on a plate and settling it on their side of the bar, where they can reach. "Milliways is the bar at the end of the universe - it likes to kidnap people, or at least show up where they don't expect it to."
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