North and Felicia, European Meetup
Sep. 25th, 2017 05:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsFelicia and North meet for drinks; they don't really discuss where they've been. The usual; short and sweet and to the point.
North looked up from his book as the screen of his phone lit up. He fished it out from under a pair of binocular and watched as messages were received in quick succession.
The book thumped shut as the man dropped it onto the cluttered dining table.
"Still in Italy?"
The reply came after a confusingly long pause. "I'm not even going to ask how you knew that."
"France now. Outside Nice."
He glanced at his watch.
"Dinner?" There wasn't much of a difference between cooling his heels in Berlin and a layover in Nice anyway.
"Only if you're coming to me," was the immediate response. "Joke about German sausage here. See, I'm a creeper, too."
"Who else are you calling a creeper?"
A corner of his lips ticked up infinitesimally as North reached across the table to retrieve the tablet that had been repurposed as a coaster for his coffee mug. The familiar trawl through the Internet for flights was a brief one.
>>>
"You found me."
Felicia sounded pleased, standing from the small, balcony table she'd been seated at, and taking a step towards him in greeting. The ocean was at her back, the sky starting to go golden with the advancing sunset, and she pushed up her sunglasses into her hair. "Not that I had any doubts," she said, kissing his cheek gently, her hand on his shoulder to balance against her heeled sandals.
"You were not hiding," he replied easily, agreeable mood apparent in both tenor and tone of his voice. A warm palm came up to rest against her shoulder blade as North returned her greeting in kind. "At least, not that I could tell."
Smiling, Felicia folded herself back into her chair, gesturing to the one across from her as if he had flown to sit anywhere else. "Not from you, no. I suppose not," she said, returning her sunglasses to the bridge of her nose. Her smile, her gestures, had been sincere, but her eyes, tired. "I figured you'd be okay with seafood, wine, and a view."
"I am." He settled in across from her and topped up her wine glass before filling his. Her weariness had not gone unnoticed, but while his own eyes narrowed briefly behind the reflective lenses of his sunglasses, he chose not to comment on it unless she brought it up first, turning instead to sweep his gaze across the expanse of ocean presented before them. "As long as there are mussels."
Felicia took a sip of her wine, gently clinking the base of her glass against the rim of his as she lifted it to her mouth, giving him a lingering look. "Almost certainly. It's another vessel for the best bread in the world," she said, glancing away to the view when he looked back at her. "I wasn't sure when you were getting here so I've already ordered some oysters. Since you're so nice to meet me here, I'll share."
"How have you been, Mr North?"
"Busy," he replied, turning back to catch her in the corner of his eye. "Idle. You know how it is." They had both been absent from their usual headquarters the past year or so, each occupying their time with tasks in their respective corners of the European continent. "It seems that my 'work' wrapped up a lot quieter than yours."
Mouth twisting, Felicia's smile turned into something forced. "I'm pretty sure nuclear explosions have wrapped up quieter," she said, forgoing the illusion and tipping half her glass of wine down her throat. "How does it go? Hurry up and wait, then hurry up some more and have to spend the next two weeks shaking any potential tails in case there is a hit on you because you're pretty sure being a brunette for a year didn't make you suddenly have a new face?"
She cleared her throat. "Something like that. Anyway, I haven't been paying attention, what did you say you were doing? Other than being busy and idle?"
"Rebuilding the intelligence network. Doing grunt work and setting up safe houses. Tracking down my allegedly deceased brother," North shrugged, one shoulder rising and falling, both casual and dismissive in the single gesture. He picked up a delicate, almost translucent piece of prawn with his fork for further study. "Almost time to head back to our headquarters."
It had been more than year, after all. Perhaps someone had blown the mansion up in the meantime.
Felicia allowed herself a small, private smile at his admission, hiding it quickly by assembling an oyster, horseradish, a little lemon. "You're probably right, but. Are you sure I can't convince you to run away with me somewhere instead? Your choice of location, since I'm generous like that."
"I have had a recent hankering for chicken Kiev from a very specific restaurant tucked away in a corner of the city," he offered, popping the prawn in his mouth and chewing thoughtfully.
"A corner of the city like in literally Ukraine, or are we talking New York again? It's hard to tell, the whole multicultural thing," she said, toasting him with her oyster before sliding it down. "Because one of those is running away with me and the other is. Not. Mixed signals, sweetheart."
"Ukraine," he said. "Actually."
Felicia stilled, the only movement a processing blink as her brain turned over. "Oh," she finally said, on an exhale, forcing herself to not look away. "Well. I suppose I could make that work. I've never actually been."
"It is possibly my favourite city in Eastern Europe to lie low in," North said, the corner of his lip ticked up in a way that told her how much of that pause of hers he had caught. "Of course, this information should not leave the table."
"You realize that Ukraine is a rather large country, yes, and you may have to be slightly more specific?" she replied quickly, gaining a kind of confidence. "Unless this is a surprise. I hate surprises, but I may make an exception for you. That is. Information that may leave the table, by the way."
"Chicken Kiev... in Kiev," he replied, smirk becoming more pronounced as he slipped an oyster into his mouth. "I know the best place for it."
Felicia let herself watch him, flicking her eyes up from his hand after long fingers deposited the empty shell back onto the plate, and back to his face. "Really?" she asked, pushing up her sunglasses against the darkness of the nearly set sun. "That seems a little on the nose."
"The irony is occasionally enjoyable," he said, propping his chin up on his palm to meet her gaze. "It would be a bit of a detour, but I am sure we could manage it."
Her mouth drew to the side, as if she was debating her options, but her eyes held his. "I mean. If we must. For the good of irony and introductions to new... lie low cities."
North looked up from his book as the screen of his phone lit up. He fished it out from under a pair of binocular and watched as messages were received in quick succession.
The book thumped shut as the man dropped it onto the cluttered dining table.
"Still in Italy?"
The reply came after a confusingly long pause. "I'm not even going to ask how you knew that."
"France now. Outside Nice."
He glanced at his watch.
"Dinner?" There wasn't much of a difference between cooling his heels in Berlin and a layover in Nice anyway.
"Only if you're coming to me," was the immediate response. "Joke about German sausage here. See, I'm a creeper, too."
"Who else are you calling a creeper?"
A corner of his lips ticked up infinitesimally as North reached across the table to retrieve the tablet that had been repurposed as a coaster for his coffee mug. The familiar trawl through the Internet for flights was a brief one.
>>>
"You found me."
Felicia sounded pleased, standing from the small, balcony table she'd been seated at, and taking a step towards him in greeting. The ocean was at her back, the sky starting to go golden with the advancing sunset, and she pushed up her sunglasses into her hair. "Not that I had any doubts," she said, kissing his cheek gently, her hand on his shoulder to balance against her heeled sandals.
"You were not hiding," he replied easily, agreeable mood apparent in both tenor and tone of his voice. A warm palm came up to rest against her shoulder blade as North returned her greeting in kind. "At least, not that I could tell."
Smiling, Felicia folded herself back into her chair, gesturing to the one across from her as if he had flown to sit anywhere else. "Not from you, no. I suppose not," she said, returning her sunglasses to the bridge of her nose. Her smile, her gestures, had been sincere, but her eyes, tired. "I figured you'd be okay with seafood, wine, and a view."
"I am." He settled in across from her and topped up her wine glass before filling his. Her weariness had not gone unnoticed, but while his own eyes narrowed briefly behind the reflective lenses of his sunglasses, he chose not to comment on it unless she brought it up first, turning instead to sweep his gaze across the expanse of ocean presented before them. "As long as there are mussels."
Felicia took a sip of her wine, gently clinking the base of her glass against the rim of his as she lifted it to her mouth, giving him a lingering look. "Almost certainly. It's another vessel for the best bread in the world," she said, glancing away to the view when he looked back at her. "I wasn't sure when you were getting here so I've already ordered some oysters. Since you're so nice to meet me here, I'll share."
"How have you been, Mr North?"
"Busy," he replied, turning back to catch her in the corner of his eye. "Idle. You know how it is." They had both been absent from their usual headquarters the past year or so, each occupying their time with tasks in their respective corners of the European continent. "It seems that my 'work' wrapped up a lot quieter than yours."
Mouth twisting, Felicia's smile turned into something forced. "I'm pretty sure nuclear explosions have wrapped up quieter," she said, forgoing the illusion and tipping half her glass of wine down her throat. "How does it go? Hurry up and wait, then hurry up some more and have to spend the next two weeks shaking any potential tails in case there is a hit on you because you're pretty sure being a brunette for a year didn't make you suddenly have a new face?"
She cleared her throat. "Something like that. Anyway, I haven't been paying attention, what did you say you were doing? Other than being busy and idle?"
"Rebuilding the intelligence network. Doing grunt work and setting up safe houses. Tracking down my allegedly deceased brother," North shrugged, one shoulder rising and falling, both casual and dismissive in the single gesture. He picked up a delicate, almost translucent piece of prawn with his fork for further study. "Almost time to head back to our headquarters."
It had been more than year, after all. Perhaps someone had blown the mansion up in the meantime.
Felicia allowed herself a small, private smile at his admission, hiding it quickly by assembling an oyster, horseradish, a little lemon. "You're probably right, but. Are you sure I can't convince you to run away with me somewhere instead? Your choice of location, since I'm generous like that."
"I have had a recent hankering for chicken Kiev from a very specific restaurant tucked away in a corner of the city," he offered, popping the prawn in his mouth and chewing thoughtfully.
"A corner of the city like in literally Ukraine, or are we talking New York again? It's hard to tell, the whole multicultural thing," she said, toasting him with her oyster before sliding it down. "Because one of those is running away with me and the other is. Not. Mixed signals, sweetheart."
"Ukraine," he said. "Actually."
Felicia stilled, the only movement a processing blink as her brain turned over. "Oh," she finally said, on an exhale, forcing herself to not look away. "Well. I suppose I could make that work. I've never actually been."
"It is possibly my favourite city in Eastern Europe to lie low in," North said, the corner of his lip ticked up in a way that told her how much of that pause of hers he had caught. "Of course, this information should not leave the table."
"You realize that Ukraine is a rather large country, yes, and you may have to be slightly more specific?" she replied quickly, gaining a kind of confidence. "Unless this is a surprise. I hate surprises, but I may make an exception for you. That is. Information that may leave the table, by the way."
"Chicken Kiev... in Kiev," he replied, smirk becoming more pronounced as he slipped an oyster into his mouth. "I know the best place for it."
Felicia let herself watch him, flicking her eyes up from his hand after long fingers deposited the empty shell back onto the plate, and back to his face. "Really?" she asked, pushing up her sunglasses against the darkness of the nearly set sun. "That seems a little on the nose."
"The irony is occasionally enjoyable," he said, propping his chin up on his palm to meet her gaze. "It would be a bit of a detour, but I am sure we could manage it."
Her mouth drew to the side, as if she was debating her options, but her eyes held his. "I mean. If we must. For the good of irony and introductions to new... lie low cities."
