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sam_mm (sam_mm) wrote in morningstar_mnr, @ 2009-08-21 22:58:00

Lunchtime, The Lamb, Gregori and Vinnie, Closed.
It wasn't long before he was out of the building, but instead of getting a cab he felt the need for an immediate dose of something stronger than the coffee he hadn't had at Emily's. The sign for the Lamb caught his eye, and he headed into the bar, not looking around, just going straight for a stool and catching the eye of one of the staff, "Vodka, triple, straight."

The barman put the drink in front of him, and Gregori handed over a hundred dollar bill even as he downed the drink in one swallow. "Another please."

Hopefully this would take the edge off his feelings, let him get back in control of himself before he had to fly back to the West Coast and find a new chef.

Seated on the next stool, Vinnie heard the accent and looked down at his brand new beer with a grimace. Damned if he was moving. Maybe Rushenko would have his drink and leave. He sipped his beer and carried on watching the tv above the bar.

The second triple vodka was downed just as quickly, but this time he didn't order another straight off. Even he was more sensible than that. Instead he sighed, and took a swift glance round. He might never be in here again, but he could smell food being cooked. Ah, a menu, and without glancing at the man next to him he asked, "Could you pass the menu please?"

Vinnie glanced at him and placed the menu in front of him then carried on watching the tv. The guy hadn't recognised him in the Lobby when he had first arrived, no reason he should now. he took another pull of his beer. Half gone - and he'd be gone too once it was finished.

Gregori did look then, it was perhaps unusual for someone to just hand him the item and not say anything. But of course, upon seeing who it was, that became perfectly understandable. Should he say something? Or just hit him? Ha, in his mind it was so much simpler, toss Vinnie on the floor and then tell him what a complete ass he was. But, this was a public place. It might not be such a good idea. He looked at the menu, considering, and then ordered another vodka. Perhaps food would not be necessary.

In fact, he didn't even look round, just started talking, "You should go see her. Unhappy does not suit her face."

Vinnie's jaw hardened. Of all the people in the bar Greg Rushenko was the last he wanted to talk to. Even the fag with the guyliner and ruffled shirt would be better. "Cheer her up then," he said. "Offer her world wide syndication."

"She does not want it." Gregori shrugged, his grip on the vodka glass tightening until the glass was at risk, he had to force himself to let it go, and then to not simply swing one fist at the other man. "What she wants, is apparently not wanting her, and if she carries on hurting, I will be doing some hurting of my own."

It wasn't for nothing he was in top shape, he worked hard at it, because the long standing CIA joke wouldn't work if he wasn't fit enough to pull it off. "Go see her. Talk to her. She has done nothing wrong, nothing at all."

Vinnie looked him over, remembered the CIA jokes, noticed how superbly fit the man was, easily discerned even through his beautiful and excellently cut clothing and felt the first stirring of fear. Obviously Rushenko felt he had the right to be angry with Vinnie. Maybe Vinnie had been stupidly hasty in judging Emily so harshly?

"Nothing?" he said. "So what I was told wasn't true?"

"That depends on what you were told, I do not know what that was." Gregori picked up the glass, carefully and sipped at the spirit, there was something going on that had nothing to do with the three of them, and that made everything so much more of a mess. It just needed sorting out, somehow, before he left for the West Coast.

"I was told that you and she made a night of it at the Empress. Saw her coming in myself looking like the good time that had been had by all," Vinnie said. "And since she'd broken up with me to be with you what was I supposed to think?"

Gregori snorted, "You believe the news too huh?" He shook his head and downed the rest of the vodka, "We had dinner, we danced, yes, we went back to my suite, to discuss the show, ideas, and in my heart, I wanted more."

He looked over, dark eyes openly showing pain, "But, I am not what Emily wants, I am not you." He looked away again, catching the barman's eye and ordering another, "So she went home, to you, and you hurt her."

He knew his limits, four triple vodka's was very close to them, and after this one, well, a taxi back to the Empress where perhaps he might convince the bar to release a bottle into his hands, and he could sleep without dreaming.

Vinnie sighed, looking into his beer. "I don't think I'm what she wants either," he said. "We're too different. maybe - maybe it's better we broke up. She's left me a couple of messages about wanting to talk, but I haven't replied. This way she can blame me for being a bastard, and have what she really wants - her career." He glanced at the Russian, thankful that he hadn't been hit. "She'd have been better off with you, you know. Once she has time to think, she might still come round."

"Nyet, Emily has made her mind up," Gregori blinked at the drink in front of him, "She was stubborn as mule at CIA, stubborn as mule with extra stubborn gene." He smiled, those grand marnier profiteroles had been a case in point, she hadn't given up, had kept trying, until she got them right. "I think she knows very well what she wants, and I," he sighed, "I am not it, you are. I do not recommend fighting that."

Vinnie looked up at the TV where happy laughing Afghan tribesmen greeted their American liberators. Or so the commentator implied. "Had enough fighting out there," he said, nodding to the screen. "But at least I'm used to having my ass kicked."

Gregori looked up, and then back down, "At least Emily is not into guns, just, be careful of her knives huh? She is particularly vicious to vegetables, but, I wouldn't put it past her to know how to fillet long pig." He chuckled, a slightly wry hint to it, "She probably has recipe for that one. Oh, no flowers, I took those this morning. Take something peculiarly yours? Would probably make her smile more."

He tossed the vodka back, swallowing it and turning round to face Vinnie, "Do not make me come back for this talk again huh? Is too hard, on her, and I would not like to damage hands before making wedding cake." He stood up off the bar stool, and laid a hand on Vinnie's shoulder, just a little heavily maybe, "I leave in two days, but, she has given me her answer, good luck, and good bye."

Vinnie's eyes narrowed a little. Two days. He'd give it two days and see what happened. No point crawling back to Emily if she was only going to knock him back again. She could change her mind yet. "You want me to call you a cab?" he asked, slipping his phone from his pocket. "Because, frankly, you look like the vodka fairy hit you with a Buick."

Gregori thought about that for a second or two, "Da, that would be good idea, hotel is long walk from here."

Vinnie got down from his stool and made the call. "Two minutes," he said. "C'mon I'll walk you to the door."

Gregori swayed a little, then started moving. His progress was perhaps not as steady as when he came in, but, four triple vodkas would do that he figured. He nodded as the other man came alongside, but somehow, he managed the journey without falling over. They parted at the door, and Gregori was very pleased when the taxi pulled up very shortly afterwards, he wanted to get back to the hotel and finish getting drunk. And then he would sleep.