08-18-2014, 11:48 AM
Drayson made a point to be a calming and directive presence as they made their way out of the restaurant and into the unpleasantly chill night air. The manager had done his due diligence and called for cabs to take the Cafe's customers home, but Torri's observation was correct. It was nearly Christmas, and there were few to be had.
Naturally, firetrucks were on their way, but they too had to try and fight their way through traffic-clogged streets. The Cafe was in a high value neighborhood, meaning it was one of the areas which usually enjoyed record response times, but what would normally have been a matter of minutes would likely stretch out to dozens.
He had spent a few years in Dominance I already, and the Isle of Man was known for bitter winters, so he was well adjusted to the cold. There was little reaction as he moved outside into the chill night air. But in truth, wet as he was, it was just a show of bravado not to outwardly react. He had an image to maintain, after all. Shivering and complaining in the cold wasn't about to do any good for the rather irate people around them.
That was perhaps the worst of it; the sort of clientelle that frequented Cafe Pushkin were rich, important, and not known to do well with such unusual situations. Arguments broke out regularly over taxis, but in most cases the drivers, their patience already worn out from dealing with last minute shoppers, put an end to such things before they could get out of hand, boldly choosing one party or the other.
Academically at least, he understood that Victoria was to a class of her own compared to the women huddled and weeping as they waited for and loaded into taxis. She was used to hardship, and bore it with impressive calm. As such, he was actually surprised when she stepped in against his side, and it took him a moment to understand why.
Certainly, she was cold; her gown was lovely, but even dry it likely did not afford much protection against the chill Moscow air. Soaked to the bone, it did even less, and the slush-choked sidewalk had left his shoes filthy. Her ankles fared no better as slush splashed with each step, save for the small pocket of space he was afforded. Few felt comfortable crowding in around the Chief Inspector; even if they didn't know who he was, they knew that he was a very large, very intimidating looking sort of fellow.
He carefully wrapped his arms around her shoulders, trying to leave little doubt the intent; they were both cold, and it would afford them both at least some degree of warmth. He slowly jockey'd their way to the front of the line till they were standing on the curb while trying not to openly shiver too much.
Drayson blinked in surprise at her sudden statement, and looked down to see her peering up at him. With her teeth clenched to prevent chattering, the way her hair wet (and slowly freezing) hair clung to her features, and apparently barely contained frustration with the situation and, likely, at his delayed response, she was damnably adorable looking. He couldn't help but study her expression for a moment before he let out a chuckle and nodded in agreement. It was rare for him to find someone with whom he could enjoy an honest conversation that wasn't work related.
A taxi pulled up then, and he finally pulled an arm from around her to open the door, stepping into the slush-filled gutter to help her step across into the waiting vehicle without having to dip her own foot into the wet snow. "A cup of tea would be nice. Alright."
Naturally, firetrucks were on their way, but they too had to try and fight their way through traffic-clogged streets. The Cafe was in a high value neighborhood, meaning it was one of the areas which usually enjoyed record response times, but what would normally have been a matter of minutes would likely stretch out to dozens.
He had spent a few years in Dominance I already, and the Isle of Man was known for bitter winters, so he was well adjusted to the cold. There was little reaction as he moved outside into the chill night air. But in truth, wet as he was, it was just a show of bravado not to outwardly react. He had an image to maintain, after all. Shivering and complaining in the cold wasn't about to do any good for the rather irate people around them.
That was perhaps the worst of it; the sort of clientelle that frequented Cafe Pushkin were rich, important, and not known to do well with such unusual situations. Arguments broke out regularly over taxis, but in most cases the drivers, their patience already worn out from dealing with last minute shoppers, put an end to such things before they could get out of hand, boldly choosing one party or the other.
Academically at least, he understood that Victoria was to a class of her own compared to the women huddled and weeping as they waited for and loaded into taxis. She was used to hardship, and bore it with impressive calm. As such, he was actually surprised when she stepped in against his side, and it took him a moment to understand why.
Certainly, she was cold; her gown was lovely, but even dry it likely did not afford much protection against the chill Moscow air. Soaked to the bone, it did even less, and the slush-choked sidewalk had left his shoes filthy. Her ankles fared no better as slush splashed with each step, save for the small pocket of space he was afforded. Few felt comfortable crowding in around the Chief Inspector; even if they didn't know who he was, they knew that he was a very large, very intimidating looking sort of fellow.
He carefully wrapped his arms around her shoulders, trying to leave little doubt the intent; they were both cold, and it would afford them both at least some degree of warmth. He slowly jockey'd their way to the front of the line till they were standing on the curb while trying not to openly shiver too much.
Drayson blinked in surprise at her sudden statement, and looked down to see her peering up at him. With her teeth clenched to prevent chattering, the way her hair wet (and slowly freezing) hair clung to her features, and apparently barely contained frustration with the situation and, likely, at his delayed response, she was damnably adorable looking. He couldn't help but study her expression for a moment before he let out a chuckle and nodded in agreement. It was rare for him to find someone with whom he could enjoy an honest conversation that wasn't work related.
A taxi pulled up then, and he finally pulled an arm from around her to open the door, stepping into the slush-filled gutter to help her step across into the waiting vehicle without having to dip her own foot into the wet snow. "A cup of tea would be nice. Alright."