Pyotr & Terry | A Bodyguarding Arrangement
Sep. 2nd, 2022 11:23 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsTerry's dealing with some supply flow issues and decides to cook her way to a solution... a plan which actually turns out quite well.
Terry sat in her office and frowned at her calendar, open on her desktop computer and viewable only to herself and Kyle because it was good to have backup if things went unexpectedly pear-shaped. She'd received more donations from the Church than expected before the start of the holiday season this year, meaning she had to sort out distribution.
She'd already allotted the majority of the kid-and-school-related materials to Sooraya to do with as she wished, whether that meant keeping them local or using her own points of contact to direct them elsewhere in the United States. Terry didn't mind, so long as they were going where they were needed. And really, this was how Ireland had been as successful as it was. No one knew every part of the network.
Frustration scratched at the back of her mind, though, as she considered what she'd been told regarding the Brotherhood of Mutants co-opting the Underground for its own, not-so-altruistic reasons. Did she think the Brotherhood was wrong in what it was essentially preaching? Not... really. Not necessarily. Her sticking point always came back to their methods of recruitment and how little they seemed to actually value their recruits' lives once they were in.
Half-growling, Terry tapped her fingernails on her desk for several long moments, then noted down days that she could drop deliveries off for later pickup. If some of the materials fell into the Brotherhood's hands, there was nothing she could really do about it from her position. It was going to take someone far more ingrained in the Underground's underbelly to root out the recruiters. All she could do was try to make sure different parts of the country had essential supplies going in.
"Bollocks," Terry muttered, sliding away from her desk in her wheeled desk chair for a moment before pushing herself out of it and making her way toward the kitchen. There were two pallets earmarked for transport to somewhere else that needed to be moved ASAP, meaning that her only real option was to make the drop that night by herself. She could ask Sooraya for help, or Angleo, but she knew Angelo was going to the fight club to keep an eye on Kyle and she though Sooraya's time was better spent with the educational side of things. That left her without anyone at the mansion with particular ties to the Underground.
Muttering under her breath, she swung into the kitchen, already tying her hair up into a knot at the crown of her head. She'd need food, then she'd need to find a volunteer, and... she'd have to sort out with the head of the group picking up tonight on a new dropoff location for the future. It was safest to operate in pairs, and Terry didn't want to abandon that rule, since it'd been driven into her head at a young, impressionable age. She set about making sandwiches, slowly at first, and then more and more quickly as she grew more accustomed to the panini press. At least other people would eat these while she considered who she could ask to accompany her on this drop.
Pyotr was in what was, for him, a comparatively rare bad mood. His art was fighting him at every step, Boris was being Boris and getting into everything, and he had deadlines looming. So, realizing that at least part of his bad mood might be hunger-related, he wandered towards the kitchen to try to remedy this situation. At the very least someone had something that smelled delicious going on and once he got close enough, he smiled to himself. Should have guessed. "Hello!" he said to Terry as he glanced over her head and shoulder at what she was doing. "Those sandwiches available to starving artists or are they dedicated to another cause?" he asked as his stomach rumbled.
Smiling despite her mood, Terry glanced over her shoulder at the much, much taller gentleman and said, "You're welcome t'any y'might like. I'm cookin' m'way through some troublin' thoughts an' possible actions for t'night. Usually helps me clear m'head. There's veggie ones over there, I started 'em first, then moved on t'cheese an' veg, then meat, cheese, an' veg... now I'm on meat an' cheese, for those who like their protein. Next I think I'll do wraps, for people who don't want carbs. An' o'course, an entirely different panini press from the closet for the kosher ones, just in case."
"The meat and cheese sounds delightful. I'm on a protein-heavy diet with all the lifting I do, so ... yes. Good." he said, grabbing the sandwich she'd literally just finished constructing. "I would ask you if you want help but I think I'd be more in the way than anything else." he said with a shrug. He patiently waited behind and to one side of her, so they could still have a conversation while she was practicing sandwich artistry. He was hungry, after all, and wanted another meat and cheese sandwich. Or two.
Shooting a half-laugh over her shoulder, Terry asked, "Do y'want it cold or flattened and heated in the machine?"
"I'll take them warm." he said with a grin. He couldn't help himself - while he was waiting, he took a first bite of the sandwich he had in his hand. Mmm. Delicious.
"Brilliant," Terry said, building two sandwiches at once. She tucked them both onto the panini machine and closed the lid, pressing down to make sure they got heated all the way through. The machine had a timer for different things, but she didn't necessarily trust it all the time. She liked to peak under every now and again to make sure things came out as well as they could. "What've y'been up to t'day?"
"Art can be a cruel mistress." he said around bites of sandwich. "And Boris is being especially Boris, and April's off doing April things, and nothing's going the way I want it to go. So I'm going to stop pushing, pause, take a breath, and come back fresh tomorrow." he said. "And I forgot to eat." he admitted sheepishly.
Terry tsked under her breath, fixing another two panini-esque items, though this time they were on wraps rather than wheat. "Well, never you worry about this kitchen lackin' food. Between myself, the boys on the grills, and Darcy, we've always got something' on the go here. And there's soups as well as various side items in the freezer. For when people want something filling but don't want it from a can or t'have t'make it themselves. I'm workin' on a breakfast option, as well. Oatmeal seems the best, with various toppin's an' things being available."
"Enough here to feed entire collective." he joked as he grabbed a plate before snagging his next two sandwiches. Now he had a place to carry them that wasn't going to burn his poor fingers. "Is good mutants get hungry fast and eat more, da? More room for cooks to experiment, be appreciated. Thank you." he told her before looking around for a place to put his plate down so he could go get himself a drink.
"Aye, it's always nice t'be appreciated," Terry half-laughed. "But more'n that, I think it's nice t'be able to produce somethin' t'help others who might not have the time or inclination t'cook. It's no hardship for me, I enjoy it. Especially with company." The wraps were on the panini press and Terry'd already peeked in at them once.
Pyotr found some Blue Gatorade and decided that would go well to wash the sandwiches down with. "For those of us with any sense at all, we're grateful." he said, then grabbed his drink and sat himself down at his plate of sandwiches.
Still smiling, Terry pulled the wraps from the press and plated them along with the other meat and cheese options she'd made, turned the press itself off, and headed for the electric kettle to heat up water for tea. They had a delightful apple-cinnamon around that reminded her of autumn, which was fast approaching. With everything set out and the water the only thing keeping her tea from steeping, Terry turned around and hopped up onto the counter near the kettle, but not so close she risked steam burns.
While she'd been cooking, her mind had been dwelling on her problem and she decided she might have actually had the answer to it walk into the kitchen and compliment her cooking. "Say, d'you do any sort o'... I'm no' quite sure how t'put it, honestly. But bodyguarding, perhaps? Protection? That sort o'thing?"
Pyotr blinked, not sure he'd heard her correctly, "Come again?" he asked. "Bodyguard work?"
"Aye," Terry said, nodding earnestly now. "I need to drop off some supplies an' things for a group of people. Just medicines and some buildin' supplies, I think, nothin' nefarious. But m'grandda'd be upset if he heard I'd gone alone. Y'wouldn't have t'do anything save make sure no one sneaks up on us, if that's something you'd not mind?"
Pyotr thought about it, looking at Terry and then thinking it over. Finally, he nodded. "Da, is something I can do." he said after a long moment. "When?"
"Tonight?" Terry mostly asked, raising hopeful eyebrows at Pyotr. "Please?"
"Do I have time to finish sandwiches, get changed?" he asked, his Russian accent thickening into something truly horrific. Pyotr was amusing himself by practicing what he fondly imagined was a good Moscow gangster accent. And he was still hungry and still had two sandwiches in front of him.
Beaming, Terry nodded. "Absolutely. We'll need t'leave in about two hours, so you've plenty o'time. Thank y'so much! Shouldn't take us long once we get there, but it'll be an hour or so drivin', then an hour back. Your choice as t'whether you'd like t'be metal when we get there, o'course."
Pyotr just smiled. "Don't worry. You'll feel very well-protected." he said, then took an initial bite of his second sandwich.
Terry sat in her office and frowned at her calendar, open on her desktop computer and viewable only to herself and Kyle because it was good to have backup if things went unexpectedly pear-shaped. She'd received more donations from the Church than expected before the start of the holiday season this year, meaning she had to sort out distribution.
She'd already allotted the majority of the kid-and-school-related materials to Sooraya to do with as she wished, whether that meant keeping them local or using her own points of contact to direct them elsewhere in the United States. Terry didn't mind, so long as they were going where they were needed. And really, this was how Ireland had been as successful as it was. No one knew every part of the network.
Frustration scratched at the back of her mind, though, as she considered what she'd been told regarding the Brotherhood of Mutants co-opting the Underground for its own, not-so-altruistic reasons. Did she think the Brotherhood was wrong in what it was essentially preaching? Not... really. Not necessarily. Her sticking point always came back to their methods of recruitment and how little they seemed to actually value their recruits' lives once they were in.
Half-growling, Terry tapped her fingernails on her desk for several long moments, then noted down days that she could drop deliveries off for later pickup. If some of the materials fell into the Brotherhood's hands, there was nothing she could really do about it from her position. It was going to take someone far more ingrained in the Underground's underbelly to root out the recruiters. All she could do was try to make sure different parts of the country had essential supplies going in.
"Bollocks," Terry muttered, sliding away from her desk in her wheeled desk chair for a moment before pushing herself out of it and making her way toward the kitchen. There were two pallets earmarked for transport to somewhere else that needed to be moved ASAP, meaning that her only real option was to make the drop that night by herself. She could ask Sooraya for help, or Angleo, but she knew Angelo was going to the fight club to keep an eye on Kyle and she though Sooraya's time was better spent with the educational side of things. That left her without anyone at the mansion with particular ties to the Underground.
Muttering under her breath, she swung into the kitchen, already tying her hair up into a knot at the crown of her head. She'd need food, then she'd need to find a volunteer, and... she'd have to sort out with the head of the group picking up tonight on a new dropoff location for the future. It was safest to operate in pairs, and Terry didn't want to abandon that rule, since it'd been driven into her head at a young, impressionable age. She set about making sandwiches, slowly at first, and then more and more quickly as she grew more accustomed to the panini press. At least other people would eat these while she considered who she could ask to accompany her on this drop.
Pyotr was in what was, for him, a comparatively rare bad mood. His art was fighting him at every step, Boris was being Boris and getting into everything, and he had deadlines looming. So, realizing that at least part of his bad mood might be hunger-related, he wandered towards the kitchen to try to remedy this situation. At the very least someone had something that smelled delicious going on and once he got close enough, he smiled to himself. Should have guessed. "Hello!" he said to Terry as he glanced over her head and shoulder at what she was doing. "Those sandwiches available to starving artists or are they dedicated to another cause?" he asked as his stomach rumbled.
Smiling despite her mood, Terry glanced over her shoulder at the much, much taller gentleman and said, "You're welcome t'any y'might like. I'm cookin' m'way through some troublin' thoughts an' possible actions for t'night. Usually helps me clear m'head. There's veggie ones over there, I started 'em first, then moved on t'cheese an' veg, then meat, cheese, an' veg... now I'm on meat an' cheese, for those who like their protein. Next I think I'll do wraps, for people who don't want carbs. An' o'course, an entirely different panini press from the closet for the kosher ones, just in case."
"The meat and cheese sounds delightful. I'm on a protein-heavy diet with all the lifting I do, so ... yes. Good." he said, grabbing the sandwich she'd literally just finished constructing. "I would ask you if you want help but I think I'd be more in the way than anything else." he said with a shrug. He patiently waited behind and to one side of her, so they could still have a conversation while she was practicing sandwich artistry. He was hungry, after all, and wanted another meat and cheese sandwich. Or two.
Shooting a half-laugh over her shoulder, Terry asked, "Do y'want it cold or flattened and heated in the machine?"
"I'll take them warm." he said with a grin. He couldn't help himself - while he was waiting, he took a first bite of the sandwich he had in his hand. Mmm. Delicious.
"Brilliant," Terry said, building two sandwiches at once. She tucked them both onto the panini machine and closed the lid, pressing down to make sure they got heated all the way through. The machine had a timer for different things, but she didn't necessarily trust it all the time. She liked to peak under every now and again to make sure things came out as well as they could. "What've y'been up to t'day?"
"Art can be a cruel mistress." he said around bites of sandwich. "And Boris is being especially Boris, and April's off doing April things, and nothing's going the way I want it to go. So I'm going to stop pushing, pause, take a breath, and come back fresh tomorrow." he said. "And I forgot to eat." he admitted sheepishly.
Terry tsked under her breath, fixing another two panini-esque items, though this time they were on wraps rather than wheat. "Well, never you worry about this kitchen lackin' food. Between myself, the boys on the grills, and Darcy, we've always got something' on the go here. And there's soups as well as various side items in the freezer. For when people want something filling but don't want it from a can or t'have t'make it themselves. I'm workin' on a breakfast option, as well. Oatmeal seems the best, with various toppin's an' things being available."
"Enough here to feed entire collective." he joked as he grabbed a plate before snagging his next two sandwiches. Now he had a place to carry them that wasn't going to burn his poor fingers. "Is good mutants get hungry fast and eat more, da? More room for cooks to experiment, be appreciated. Thank you." he told her before looking around for a place to put his plate down so he could go get himself a drink.
"Aye, it's always nice t'be appreciated," Terry half-laughed. "But more'n that, I think it's nice t'be able to produce somethin' t'help others who might not have the time or inclination t'cook. It's no hardship for me, I enjoy it. Especially with company." The wraps were on the panini press and Terry'd already peeked in at them once.
Pyotr found some Blue Gatorade and decided that would go well to wash the sandwiches down with. "For those of us with any sense at all, we're grateful." he said, then grabbed his drink and sat himself down at his plate of sandwiches.
Still smiling, Terry pulled the wraps from the press and plated them along with the other meat and cheese options she'd made, turned the press itself off, and headed for the electric kettle to heat up water for tea. They had a delightful apple-cinnamon around that reminded her of autumn, which was fast approaching. With everything set out and the water the only thing keeping her tea from steeping, Terry turned around and hopped up onto the counter near the kettle, but not so close she risked steam burns.
While she'd been cooking, her mind had been dwelling on her problem and she decided she might have actually had the answer to it walk into the kitchen and compliment her cooking. "Say, d'you do any sort o'... I'm no' quite sure how t'put it, honestly. But bodyguarding, perhaps? Protection? That sort o'thing?"
Pyotr blinked, not sure he'd heard her correctly, "Come again?" he asked. "Bodyguard work?"
"Aye," Terry said, nodding earnestly now. "I need to drop off some supplies an' things for a group of people. Just medicines and some buildin' supplies, I think, nothin' nefarious. But m'grandda'd be upset if he heard I'd gone alone. Y'wouldn't have t'do anything save make sure no one sneaks up on us, if that's something you'd not mind?"
Pyotr thought about it, looking at Terry and then thinking it over. Finally, he nodded. "Da, is something I can do." he said after a long moment. "When?"
"Tonight?" Terry mostly asked, raising hopeful eyebrows at Pyotr. "Please?"
"Do I have time to finish sandwiches, get changed?" he asked, his Russian accent thickening into something truly horrific. Pyotr was amusing himself by practicing what he fondly imagined was a good Moscow gangster accent. And he was still hungry and still had two sandwiches in front of him.
Beaming, Terry nodded. "Absolutely. We'll need t'leave in about two hours, so you've plenty o'time. Thank y'so much! Shouldn't take us long once we get there, but it'll be an hour or so drivin', then an hour back. Your choice as t'whether you'd like t'be metal when we get there, o'course."
Pyotr just smiled. "Don't worry. You'll feel very well-protected." he said, then took an initial bite of his second sandwich.
