Kind of a strange name for a bar, but Mallory supposed that being run by Russians had led to the naming of the place. She had hoped to say her goodbyes to Sonya in a less public place, but maybe being in public would cut down on the waterworks. Her flight was due to leave late tomorrow afternoon and she had most of her stuff packed, except for the bare essentials.
When she opened the door of the establishment and stepped inside, her first thought was that she must have made a mistake about the address. That she must have misunderstood the hybrid's directions. Then again, it was Sonya. Damn it. Unless she was very much mistaken, she had just walked into a strip club. A demonic strip club, apparently. At least, judging by the audience occupying the chairs and the bar area.
God damn it, Sonya.
Mallory saw the other redhead at a small table with several glasses arrayed in front of her and she raised a hand in a dubious sort of greeting. Who was going to look after this one when she left?
The music drifted somewhere between eighties rock and contemporary heavy metal. Not too unlike Sonya's own collection, really. With wings fully allowed to be on display, the girl might be rather more simply dressed than usual, but certainly seemed to suit the environment. Mallory often thought of her as a fragile little flower, something to be protected - a train of thought with more than enough justification behind it, given their experiences together. But Sonya Ramius was also very capable of looking after herself and the customers, although largely of a non-human demographic, seemed to be aware of the rules to look and not touch.
Catching sight of her invited friend, Sonya beamed out a wide smile and made to wind her way through the crowd towards her. It might be a place for the removal of clothes, but Sonya's discarded tray of drinks was enough to show she was functioning as a waitress, rather than anything more unsavoury. "Mallorys!" The youthful Russian thrilled and wrapped the older redhead into a clamp-like hug, flush with all the non-existent grace of a pneumatic vice. "How are you is be doings? Is long times!"
"Hey, girl," Mallory said, having to push the words past the sudden constriction of her ribcage. She kept forgetting how strong Sonya was until the Russian's arms were around her. The sight of her wings being out for everyone to see, was a little daunting, but after a minute, she got past that.
"Things are OK," she said with a nod, indicating the table the hybrid had just vacated. "Just figured I'd swing by real quick before tending to a couple of errands. I wanted to..." Another waitress passed in front of them and the older redhead was momentarily distracted by how the overhead lights reflected off of her blue scales. Then she turned back towards Sonya and completed her sentence. "I wanted to say goodbye before I leave."
Sonya frowned. Conversations with her were frequently tempered with not only her dubious linguistic skills, but also how her mind seemed to form entire structures of logic around little mental clues, often based on a foundation so nonsensical, her entire world could crash around it, once the truth was revealed. That was the case here and she shot the other girl only a perplexed look. "No leaves," she told her. "Just come! You stay, no walkings away!"
Because, to Sonya, why would Mallory come inside, only to wander off again? There was no time for Mallory to set matters straight, however, before Sonya got the attention of a work colleague to shout for one of Mallory's favourite drinks to be brought over. No sooner had that been done, than she was leading Mallory over to a corner table, by the wrist.
"So!" Sonya began, sitting opposite her friend. Best friend. Best friend, forever! "Like say on, eh... On telephonicals, I go to Russia! But now back! New job here, da? Is, eh, 'friend of family'? Da! This is how Sonya be here. And get monies! Mallory Quinn have the monies, too?"
"Yeah, something like that," Mallory answered, allowing herself to be led. As ever, the language barrier would likely prove to be the roadblock in getting Sonya to understand, but she was willing to let it slide for just a few more minutes. As the two of them sat down at the table the Russian had picked out, the older redhead picked up her glass and sipped at the contents. "Well, this place is really... Interesting," she said, her tone a bit careful. "You say a friend of the family runs it?"
Probably some of Devora's friends, judging by the looks of the clientele.
"So, you're doing OK here? Is it better, being able to show off your wings?"
Sonya just gave a very ambiguous nod, in receipt to Mallory's initial question. Someone who knew her, however, would be able to tell, from body language, that the girl was hiding something. Not being quiet so forthcoming as she could be. Not least of which, being because any talk of family and friends, back in Russia, was often enough to make Sonya extremely chatty and often boggle the mind of anyone who asked, with all manner of names, things she had got up to and, somewhat bizarrely, even questions of whether they happened to know the same people. Instead, this time she was just keeping quiet about it.
"Oh, much betters!" Sonya replied with an upward roll of eyes. "Is like go to toilet after much foods!"
And although a reference to laxatives was probably not the most appetising of references, Sonya's personality could often be direct to the point of brazen crudeness. Besides which, it was a fairly accurate analogy. Those membraned structures had proven increasingly difficult to hide, over time. Heaven forbid the girl get actual cramp in them, too, which could often lead to a very agonised little Sonya flapping around and doing her best to excuse 'back troubles', whilst simultaneously trying to rush to the nearest lavatory to stretch her wings out in private.
Catching sight of one of the venue's security personnel, Sonya's attention was drawn to what seemed to be a covert signal being directed her way and made a small nod. Turning back to Mallory, the girl suddenly blurted out an, "Sonya will be dancings for you! Mallory stays sit!"
Sonya's unusual reticence about the 'friend' who ran Red October had Mallory a little nonplussed, but she tended to her drink and decided not to press the issue, She would not want to talk about sorry-ass Devora's friends, either. And if the Russian liked working here, then she was not going to gainsay that decision.
What happened next, however, had the older redhead sitting up a little straighter in her chair, feeling a blush creeping up the sides of her neck. "Uh, Sonya..." And yet she should have expected this, somehow. Maybe even asked the hybrid about exactly what she was doing for 'monies' in a place like this. The girl was so suggestible.
"You really don't have to..."
"Da! Havings to! Is fun!"
What Mallory probably did not notice, was Sonya's splaying of wings, preventing certain things around her from being brought into view. Or rather, she probably did, but considering Sonya's alluring style of dress, had definite reason to keep attention fixed upon her. It was a leather ensemble, complete with dagger upon belt and suited her well, in a 'Xena, The Winged Barbarian' sort of way. 'Red Sonya', indeed! Regardless of any protests to the contrary, Sonya was now giving her friend and, at times, confessed admirer, a lap-dance to be proud of. Strange, really, considering how she was an apparent waitress. In fact, were one to look around, most of her colleagues were now doing that, too.
She was also rather good at it, for an apparent beginning. Even the wings, themselves, being used as part of the visual act, with gaze solidly locked upon the elder girl, smoothly dancing, from one rhythmic way to the other. Closer and closer, she got, fully playing on her natural charms to keep Mallory looking her way. Closer, closer, closer, until it seemed their mouths might...
Out of the blue, an alarm rang out, Russian was shouted and strippers, waiting staff and 'bouncers', alike, all revealed themselves for what they were. This was no strip joint. It was a fully-fledged secret Russian government operation! And true to style, it was much more of a 'brawl and shoot' operation, than something with Western-style refinement. Even little delicate Sonya immediately jumped on the table to deal a flying karate kick to the demonic 'customer' behind her, converting him from paying client to prisoner, in one fail swoop.
Sonya Ramius: Secret Agent!
"Nyet! Nyet!" The diminutive little flapping half-demoness called, as one of her colleagues made a move to arrest Mallory. Words were interchanged and the balding man with gun rose an eyebrow before wandering off to deal with helping to bundle the rest into vehicles waiting outside. "I say you are the humans," Sonya explained to her friend with a courageous little smile. The action was pretty much over now, but as explosive and spectacularly chaotic, as one could expect from anything Sonya got herself involved in. "No-one believe, if you say to papers, anyway!"
Why she had not figured out that Sonya would have ended up being recruited into some sort of governmental scheme was mystifying, but at the time it might have had something to do with all the wiggling. If she was not leaving... If she was not sure Sonya would just panic on her...
Damned bad timing. Again.
"Well, it would be bad to break out in handcuffs," she told the hybrid a little dazedly, eyeing the clean-up process, as the hubbub died down. "I was actually worried about you for a second there, working some place like this. I thought...." The American of the pair shook her head. Never mind what she thought. She could save that for the plane trip. How long did it take to get to England by air, anyway? "Can I get a minute alone with you for a sec?" She asked. "Do you need to help out here for much longer?"
"Secret Russian government plan!" The little hybrid affirmed, patriotic to the last. "Is good!"
Looking around herself, the girl shrugged. Most of the creatures were being herded out. Her own part in this was done. The table was, relatively-speaking, still out of the way. She saw no reason why it could not offer privacy. "Can talks here," the young girl responded. "Or wait for Sonya to be changing clothes. But could be long time!"
"No, that's fine, we can just sit here." Mallory reclaimed her seat, looking down at her glass and wondering if she could get a refill. Or maybe she should not. She at least had to drive back to Searchlight for one more night, then turn in her trailer keys in the morning. "C'mon, sit with me here."
And this was going to be the hard part. She might not want to, but it was time. The older redhead looked at her friend, then down at the tabletop. "I've decided to go to England for a little while," she began hesitantly. "Some people there offered me a job, so I'm going there. I'm not sure for how long yet."
"Englands?"
Again, Sonya frowned, but this was a look more caused by genuine confusion over the confession's motivation. They had spoken on the telephone, since her short excursion's end, but this was the first time they had met up again. And... Mallory was leaving? To a place Sonya felt she had no reason in going to? A place her father could not really help out in getting her to, much, either. A job... She had mentioned a job. Oh, but this was bad and now Sonya was feeling, perhaps not in a mood to cry, but suddenly very alone in the world. Mallory had been one of the few, if not the only one, who had actually stuck with her, all of this time. Claire had never been met again; the first person she could remember ever having talked to, back in Searchlight. Milly, the other half-demon girl, had similarly gone. Gwen, the Slayer. Even Kael, the attractive handy-man, who had actually been to Russia! Even he had gone. Even Deanna, Faith and Grace had never been seen again. They had all gone, except for Mallory.
"Oh."
A small word, but probably all the more powerful for its brevity. slowly, Sonya looked down at the table, contemplating her options and left hand drifted up to chin, then mouth, only for thumb's nail to absently tap against teeth. It took her about half a minute of silent thought, before she felt able to look back up again.
"Must do this?"
"Yeah, I kind of have to. I told them I'd be there, for one thing. And this place has kind of... Changed. Maybe you don't notice it so much, but I do."
God, Sonya, don't cry. If you cry, then I have to cry, too.
She placed her hand over the Russian's, a gesture of support and friendship. She wanted to leave Sonya about as much as she had wanted to leave Julie, but this was a necessary thing. And it was not as if it would be forever, anyway. It seemed like most of the weird stuff seemed to happen on this side of the pond, so, who was to say she would not find herself State-side, once her training was done?
"I'm not going away forever, OK? I promise." The older redhead moved her hand to the younger one's forearm, then to her shoulder and her fingers brushed lightly against one leathery wing. "Somebody's gotta' keep you out of trouble."
Sonya tried to raise a smile, but it was fleeting. She had heard such promises too many times before. The source of this one did not matter. She trusted Mallory in ways she would trust few others, but felt as if fate would probably intervene, in the same way as it always intervened at other times, too. Circumstances would prevent Mallory from contacting her, at the very least. She was sure of it. If they even managed to exchange so much as a telephone call or letter, she might consider it a personal miracle.
No, she did not blame Mallory. Just found it a repeated of the same depressingly predictable pattern.
With that in mind, she said no words. Only leaned forward to slide arms around her friend in a genuine hug of solidarity.
Mallory put her arms around Sonya and just held her, touching the other woman's soft red hair and thinking about movie nights and having to keep her fridge stocked with cold cuts and friendship. She was gradually cutting her ties to this place. Cutting her ties, so that she could start the next chapter of her life and it hurt, God, it hurt.
"I love you," she said quietly into the Russian's ear. "I don't ever want you to doubt that. And one day, you're going to find someone who'll make you as happy as you deserve to be. That's my promise, too."
She could feel tears stinging her eyes, but this time they did not fall. At least, not yet. She did not want to cry in front of Sonya. That would only upset the both of them more. She pulled back from the hug enough for her to rest brow against the Russian's forehead.
"Somebody's going to tell you you're beautiful, one of these days and you're going to believe it."
She cupped the hybrid's face between her palms and kissed her lightly on the mouth. A kiss of temporary farewell. One of what might have been, without circumstances preventing it. One which would not tamper with Sonya's happy, often maddening, innocence.
"I swear on whatever you want me to swear on, you'll see me again."
Sonya just shook head in response. Promises on top of promises would not make a difference. Just words. She would wait until things actually happened, before believing in them. Even so, Mallory telling her of being able to meet that person who would make her feel beautiful, of feeling able to believe them, in turn, was perhaps the greatest gift she could have given the Russian. Something which had been said more, but which meant more now.
"When do leave?" The younger of the two redheads asked, Sonya hoping they would have at least a little while to go, before the inevitable would have to be faced. Her stilted English might rarely be correct in grammar, but nevertheless conveyed her heart. "Is still time?"
"Yeah. Yeah, there's some time, I don't leave until tomorrow. I just didn't know if I'd be able to see you before then and I wanted to tell you, face to face. You deserved to hear it first-hand."
Mallory withdrew from the embrace, picking up her drink and tossing back the last of it in the hopes that it would steady her. It helped, a little and she managed a smile as she looked across the short distance at Sonya's face. "If you didn't have anything else to do here, you could go ahead and change clothes and we can go get something to eat. I want to hear all about how Russia was and what you're planning next."
That time, Sonya's smile was filled with happier thoughts. Those of relief, primarily. tomorrow... It was still so soon, but they could have an evening together. A last night. Heck, maybe if she got her drunk enough, the morning after's results would prevent her from taking the flight? Sonya found amusement in that, but would probably be unable to bring herself into making it a reality. She could be mischievous, but had not inherited the sheer ruthless nature of her mother's manipulative streak.
"We go!" Sonya affirmed. It was late afternoon, but there was still enough time to get back to Searchlight before the curfew set in. "Have the funs for last night!"
She would change and they would drink. They would drink, laugh and make merry.
And it would be one of the most cherished memories either of the friends would share.