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Tuesday evening, near midnight.

Padding quietly out of her room, Alison wandered down the hallway, arms wrapped about herself as she walked. She caught herself heading for Sam's room at the last minute and stopped, a pained expression flickering across her features. After a moment's indecision, she headed for Piotr and Warren's rooms instead, hoping she wouldn't be... interrupting anything.

In the midst of a bathroom break, Piotr tilts his head, thinking he heard a tapping noise. He finishes up, and pads out into the main suite area. He looks around, and hears it once more - he realizes it's just the front door. Looking curious, he walks over and opens the door a crack. "Hello...?"

Alison looks up from staring at her toes with a worn look. "Hey, Piotr...," she whispers, noting that he's only sticking his head out in the classic 'yes I'm here but not really dressed much' stance. Her lips twitch in a half grin ever so briefly, and she looks down at her feet again. "I'm sorry. It's late, isn't it... I - just..." she trails off, looking lost, unable to put her whirling thoughts into words.

Piotr leans forward a bit to hear the whispers, and replies in a likewise fashion, "Do you need something, Alison? It is late... you should be sleeping..."

She gives him a trembling smile and shakes her head. "I'm sorry. I just - I did something wrong and I don't know what and now-" she stops, tears welling in her eyes, looking miserable. "I just needed to talk to someone," she manages to say, giving him an apologetic look.

Piotr gets a concerned look on his face, especially at the tears. He rubs at one of his own eyes, trying to wake up more fully. "Oh... oh, okay... let me go get a shirt on... uh, can you stand there for a minute?"

She nods, turning to lean on the wall outside the door and sliding him a ghost of a smile in thanks. When he closes the door, she slides down the wall, curling up and leaning her forehead on her knees, arms wrapped around her legs.

Piotr makes his way into his empty bedroom, pulls on a loose shirt, and heads back over to the door. He opens it up normally, and looks over at Alison, "Sorry... but I did not think you wanted to see me in my underwear. Do you want to come in?"

She pushes herself up the wall, remembering someone else who didn't have to seem such preoccupations not so long ago - and yet, unable to smile at the memory right now. "Warren asleep?" she asks lowly, padding in silently into the common room. "I..." she sighs and stops, turning around once she's inside, staring at him without really seeing him.

Piotr blushes slightly, and glances over at Warren's bedroom door, "Well, yes... in his bedroom... I do not go in there or anything...." He hopes that sounds good, and looks back to Alison, "So what happened?"

Alison raises an eyebrow, and can't help but smile at the blush. She pats his cheek with a murmur of assent, eyes still bright but a faint smile on her face - wondering if Piotr realizes that pretty much everyone knows about Warren and him by now. She wraps her arms around herself again however, and shrugs. "I don't know what happened. That's the thing... but, I'm being shut out. And I wish at least I knew why," she finishes plaintively.

Piotr considers what she said for a moment, "Shut out of what, exactly?"

She leans forward slowly, resting her forehead on his chest, shoulders slumping heavily. "Sam won't talk to me. He's been avoiding me all weekend... I was putting it down to him reading the book, or being busy but - he's has been avoiding me. And he won't tell me why." She sighs again, with mingled sadness and frustration. "I keep getting the feeling something happened, but I just don't have the slightest idea what and..." She stops, unable to even begin to describe this morning's sparring session.

Piotr puts an arm around Alison's back, his hand absently rubs circles between her shoulder blades. Frowning, he asks, "You have told him you think he is avoiding you, and what does he say?"

She leans into him, closing her eyes while trying to sort out events. "He said he'd done something, only before everything he was saying implied that I'd done something... and practice today was just..." She shakes her head against him, wanting to cry as she remembers the morning's practice session. "Couldn't even look me in the eye. Didn't want to talk. Didn't even want to be there. 'I overslept'... he never oversleeps unless he means to Piotr, he knows I'm aware of this," her voice cracks on the last words, and she takes a deep breath, trying not to break down. "I just don't understand... if at least I knew why..."

Frowning, Piotr rests his chin on the top of her head. He fights back a yawn, tries to clear his head of sleep so he can be as helpful to the situation as possible. Though really, he doubts anyone can make amends of this but themselves. "I was wondering why he looked not like himself today... Are you sure you do not remember something you might have done to make him upset?" He pauses, "I could talk to him about it, maybe he will tell me."

"I can't think of anything," she says, and then freezes as she is reminded of Thursday afternoon. But he'd have mentioned coming over to see me... Shivers crawl down her spine at the thought. couldn't be. I was out the entire time. Not a chance. I hope. "I'm sure he had a reason," she says with absolute certainty. "But I just can't fix anything if I don't know, can I?"

His last words catch up with her, and she starts. Oh my god. No. Nonononono. Oh, what am I doing? She looks up with a pleading, wide-eyed expression. "Please don't, Piotr!" she blurts out, panicking slightly. Why yes, Sam, love, I was off whining about you to the man you're crushing after. Not good! I'm such an idiot.

Piotr blinks a bit, "But why not? It could help.. you want to know, right?" As an afterthought, he adds, "I do not know why you two have not gone on a date yet, anyway."

'Cause as far as I know, my dear Russian Icon of Hotness, he's still lusting after you. I can't believe I just hauled off and did this to boot. I'm in such a pretty fix now, aren't i? "We're best friends, Piotr." I hope we still are. "And I want to know but... it'll have to come from Sam. I'm hoping we're both adult enough to sort this out, I guess." Liar, liar, pants on fire. You'd love for someone to let you know right away. You suck at waiting these things out.

She hides her face in his shoulder, wishing she couldn't remember quite so clearly the indifferent look on Sam's face that morning. Giving in, she sobs quietly - tired of the pretending she's had to do, tired of not knowing, almost wishing things were back as they were months ago.

"You will... I am sure of it." He wraps his other arm around her, and holds her close to let her cry. Respecting her wishes of wanting to hear it from Sam, he doesn't mention the looks he notices Sam giving her sometimes. He doesn't like that they're both needlessly hurting, though, and decides to have a talk with Sam tomorrow.