Colin Farrell Can Probably Skate


abby_icon.gif hagan_icon.gif pam_icon.gif tamara_icon.gif teo_icon.gif

Scene Title Colin Farrell Can Probably Skate
Synopsis And He Probably Wouldn't Get Ditched Mid-Date. (It rhymes.) A coincidental convergence of people in the park puts a Christmas kitten on Abigail's wish list (unbeknownst to her), Pam elegantly on ice, Hagan on Phoenix's radar, even as he's scratched off his date's dance card, and Tamara's ability features unintrusively.
Date November 30, 2008

Central Park

Central Park has been, and remains, a key attraction in New York City, both for tourists and local residents. Though slightly smaller, approximately 100 acres at its southern end scarred by and still recovering from the explosion, the vast northern regions of the park remain intact.

An array of paths and tracks wind their way through stands of trees and swathes of grass, frequented by joggers, bikers, dog-walkers, and horsemen alike. Flowerbeds, tended gardens, and sheltered conservatories provide a wide array of colorful plants; the sheer size of the park, along with a designated wildlife sanctuary add a wide variety of fauna to the park's visitor list. Several ponds and lakes, as well as the massive Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Reservoir, break up the expanses of green and growing things. There are roads, for those who prefer to drive through; numerous playgrounds for children dot the landscape.

Many are the people who come to the Park - painters, birdwatchers, musicians, and rock climbers. Others come for the shows; the New York Shakespeare Festival at the Delacorte Theater, the annual outdoor concert of the New York Philharmonic on the Great Lawn, the summer performances of the Metropolitan Opera, and many other smaller performing groups besides. They come to ice-skate on the rink, to ride on the Central Park Carousel, to view the many, many statues scattered about the park.

Some of the southern end of the park remains buried beneath rubble. Some of it still looks worn and torn, struggling to come back from the edge of destruction despite everything the crews of landscapers can do. The Wollman Rink has not been rebuilt; the Central Park Wildlife Center remains very much a work in progress, but is not wholly a loss. Someday, this portion of Central Park just might be restored fully to its prior state.

With the Rockefeller rink in the blast zone, the Lasker rink has become the new focus of New York skating. It may not be as romantic as the previous, but it's still a good date spot. And Hagan has a date. Don't laugh. He actually does. But it's going poorly. She suggested skating, perhaps not realizing that her date is both bruised from the night before and a chronic smoker. Also: Irish. There are very few rinks in Ireland. "Why do you strap weapons to your feet? This sounds like a very poor idea!"

His date looks less than impressed and it's clear from her face that she's regretting the whole date idea. She tries to skate off ahead of him with clear skill, while the Irishman clings to the side. He's going to get ditched in a moment.

When she's not working her night job, Pam enjoys doing wholesome things. That is why she's at the skating rink, lacing up her white skates that may have been second-hand, all bundled up and rosy-cheeked. Her hat has a pompom on it, even. She steps out onto the ice with a wobble; this is her first time on the ice since last year.

Teo isn't skating. He's watching people skate, shoulders hunkered and brow furrowed under the weighty conviction that water isn't suppoesd to do that. Turn solid, flat, white, a crystallized lattice with enough structural coherency to support the weight of dozens of winter-revellers with pointy metal strapped to their feet. Perched on the railing, his elbows take most of his weight, hands — gloved, now — dangling into the rink. "Ehh," he glances at the willowy woman beside him. "You're all hung over. Surely the glare must hurt your eyes. We could get you something to drink instead." At least he spares them both the embarrassment of making big eyes.

She's grumpy, her head hurts, the sun's too bright, her stomachs not liking her. It's almost, ALMOST like the flu. Abby's bundled, hat, jacket, gloves, scarf, scowl. Hagan's not recognized for now, she's too busy squinting becuase of the sun glinting off the surface of the ice. "I feel like I want to puke" For once, it would seem, the Bible-thumper is not perky. "Coffee. I could use a coffee."

Neither is Tamara skating. There are limits. Wearing a burgundy sweater with a navy-blue scarf coiled around her neck and across her shoulders, the teen wanders amongst the idlers and on-lookers and passers-by outside the rink, her hands wrapped around a styrofoam cup from one of the nearby concession stands. (Where there are people, there are vendors. Inevitably.) She comes up beside Abby just about in time to hear the request for coffee, and the extension of her hand to hold the cup out in Abigail's field of view seems like purest automatic reflex. "Okay." Because Tamara has coffee. And she's not going to drink it.

Hagan tries woefully to follow after his date, a young woman with puffy, curly brownish hair in a festive hat and a long jacket. She's wearing a pair of immaculate white figure skates. It's contrasted with Hagan's silver parka jacket that's too bulky and probably too warm to be skating in, a pair of blue jeans and a banged up pair of rental hockey skates. His knees wobble like a baby deer as he tries to let go of the wall. "Sara! Wait!" But the girl has disappeared. Stood up mid-date. Saddest thing ever. Now he's stuck out on the ice with no idea what he's doing.

Pam clasps her hands behind her back in classic postcard skater pose and glides off around the perimeter of the rink. That means she comes up by Hagan and slows down to call, "Y'all alright?"

All sidewalk and no skating makes Teo— well, not precisely a happy boy since he'd much rather be on a boat ninety percent of the time, but it's better than the vice versa. He had begun to prepare himself for the great coffee expedition. Which is to say, he pulled himself upright and turned his head toward Abby, with an address recommendation ready, only to be interrupted by the unexpected Samaritan. His jaw is halfway open around the first syllable of Alexander's favorite diner place and winds up hanging there a moment as he studies the little seer.

He closes his mouth and starts to offer a Ciao of greeting, instead, when a familiar blonde blurs by on the rink side of the railing, drawing an eloquent blink of blue eyes and a look. It's the Irish nutcase, he realizes after a moment, and his disturbingly attractive veterinarian. The wheels in his head begin to rotate. Not that you can tell from looking at him, of course. Outwardly, Teo has spent the last four seconds or so looking entirely retarded.

It's like, you wish it… and immediately, there it is. Abby looks to see who the bearer of the blessed ambroisia that is coffee is. The strange girl, from the new apartment. "Thanks Tamara." Black, just the way she likes it. "How much do I owe you?" Even as she taking it from the younger girl and sniffing at it. Abby's scowl lessens, though the pounding of her head doesn't. "You going skating?" Teo for the moment, ignored in his… current state.

Tamara leans out just enough to look past Abby at Teo. She tilts her head, then grins at the Sicilian and lets her attention break away. Regarding Abby instead, the teen shakes her head. "You didn't. It's a present," she concludes with a beaming smile, even as she shoves that ever-stray blond hair back out of her face. Because 'tis the season for presents. More or less. Quizzed, Tamara eyes the rink and its skaters sidelong. The single dubious line creasing her brow answers the question even before she speaks, but Tamara says it anyway. "I don' think so. S'all slippery and hard to hang on to."

Slippery indeed. This is what Hagan is discovering. He flails and rocks back and forth. He manages to find a centre as Pam comes up to him. He pushes the furry hood back from his face and blinks at her. "Oh, I'm fine, I'm just…" And then he suddenly loses his balance and his feet go out from under him. "Aw, FUCKER." he yells. Parents cover their little children's ears.

Pam leans down to offer Hagan a hand up with a smile. "Family place," she gently chides him. "You must be new to skating. C'mon, up, up."

The busted nose Teo continues to sport helps with his look of deficiency, because it's the kind of injury that betrays almost exactly how it was acquired. Boys are dumb. They get rocks thrown at them, sometimes. Fists, others. In summary, he didn't look too bright for a moment, but comes to once the moment is over. What? What. He blinks hard and wiggles his head, can't quite figure out if the glimpse-by of Tamara's small face had been a visual artefact accidentally left by sunlight or if she had actually poked through his reverie for a moment there.

Getting two thirds of a positive ID on a Phoenix prospect tends to do that to a guy. What. Right. Duhh. "You give good gifts, bella," he says to the one who retains her blondeness, frank with sincerity. "I'm totally stuck on what to get her for Christmas. Or anyone, for that matter. I usually get Pila something." He doesn't imagine it would astonish anybody that there are such things as luxury items for pet birds. He doesn't elaborate. "How are you?"

"Who's Pila? And I don't need anything. You already found me a place to live. That's gift enough" Abby murmurs. "I tend to not celebrate it anyways, not in the fashion that most do" That doesn't mean she doesn't get others gifts. She's not that out of touch with reality, more in touch than say… Tamara. "Hey that's… my customer…" Abby notices Hagan, that and the big fat swear word that spilled from his mouth. "Hagan… O'Sullivan?"

Resting her elbows against the railing and cupping her chin in her hands, Tamara watches Hagan collapse onto the ice. Where most people might wince in sympathy, she merely… observes. The girl doesn't stand like that for long, soon straightening up and dropping her hands to lie against the chill rail. "Birds are pretty; all the colors without the rainbow. Especially the ones that sing. But only the sun really hears them; they get up early." The stray cardinal across the way, bright red bird foraging for seeds or breadcrumbs or anything else it can eat, might have something to do with her remark. Or maybe not. Blue eyes flick back to Teo, the cant of Tamara's head itself birdlike. "It is and it goes. Everything changes, and it's the same. Presents aren't about needing," she corrects Abby. "That'd be boring."

"How did you guess? Was it the fact that I'm on my arse on cold ice?" Hagan murmurs, but there's not real malice. More like embarassment. He grabs hold of Pam's hand, but she'll have to be really steady on her feet not to end up on the ice with him. He can barely stand at all. "Bloody…ridiculous activity. What's the point?" He ends up down, then up once more and finally manages to hobble towards the side, roughly near where the familiar faces are gathered. He's looking quite defeated.

Pam nearly wipes out herself; by some miracle, she manages to stay upright. "Some people find it fun," she tells Hagan with a hint of a mischievous smile. "I'm guessing you're not one of them. Ireland doesn't have a hockey team, does it?" After a glance around, she spies another familiar face and waves to Teo.

Being friends with a bartender is awesome. They know everybody; no such thing as a teetotaller in post-Bomb Manhattan. Teo twitches his cheek, settling his back comfortably against the railing, though not before he notices Hagan approaching. "Yeah? Old Lucy's? I should go there more often. Without Feds," he offers, half a grin on, before it fades with the recollection of discomfort. Abigal Beauchamp is always getting into trouble, mostly because she was built, mind and body, to try to get people out of it. He never knows what to say about that, so he says nothing.

Tamara's statement warrants a look. Not the first of its kind he's ever directed at her before. She has that tendency, doesn't she? "Pila is my bird," he says, slowly. "Not British slang— she's a budgie. I have someone to give her to, if you and Al don't like animals around, otherwise she'll be happy to meet you.

"She's blue," he adds, relevantly. "Her head is this big." One gloved forefinger and thumb alot a little over an inch of space to indicate. One bright blue eye peers through the gap at Tamara. Wondering, as ever before. "Bambina is right. Presents aren't about needing. I'll think of something," he assures Abby, with the steely sort of determination as commonly associated with beating Halo.

"You're not giving your bird away Teo. Not without good reason. I'll… I'll… I'll kill you?" the mention of Fed makes her scowl again, the coffee doing very little to actually take care of the issue's that she has with her alcohol intake from the evening before. "He's a regular, what I've seen. Might have scared him off by sitting and actually talking with him and no, your right, it's not about needing, I just.. It's about.. other htings, nto about presents and santa and all that" Abby mutters into her coffee.

Leaning on the railing, Tamara smiles at Abby's vehement denial, a slow stretching of lips into a pleased expression. "You don't need to," she remarks. Whether to Abby or Teo… well, it works out. The girl looks over her shoulder at Abby, and that smile broadens into a grin. You're still wrong, but okay.

"Oh, I don't think he saw me," Pam says, lowering her wavin' hand and looking to Hagan. "Does this mean you're not interested in joining my ringette team? Well, crap. What made you decide to try this, anyway? Ooh. You get hot chocolate at the end. Are you in it for that?"

Having decided earlier on that he isn't ready to be killed, never mind by Abby, Teo makes surrendering motions with his hands. "Not without a good reason," he promises, easily, either because he's untroubled by the presumption, appreciates the underlying sentiment, or because he's lying. Because his eyebrows are tired, he refrains from squinting at Tamara. "A little commercialization never killed anybody," he says, leaning his weight on his right leg, lazy on his feet. "If you want to know something funny:

"I've decided on the right gift for your boy Flint. He's the only one I've figured out, so far. Although I think he could fuckin' well use it before Christmas, so I might give it to him early. 'Scuse me a moment?

"Buongiorno." That would be at the accidentally overlooked veterinarian and Hagan. In order to offer this salutation, Teo turned back around and got up on the base of the railing. Begins to scoot sideways along it, in a gait that resembles a bird's, himself. Out of his jacket comes a carton of cigarettes, held out toward Hagan in a gesture that's half generosity and part teasing. Given, you know. Hagan's hanging on for dear life. "You look like you could use a smoke. Hi Pam." Stretched half a yard out over a potential concussion-on-ice, he beams at the woman.

It's a quietly muttered "He's not mine," followed by "language" that only gets halfway out before she shuts her mouth, content for the moment to watch Hagan and pam and their spectacle out on the ice. Abby's in a bad mood and content to watch, that and she'd frankly never ice skated before. Just nurse her coffee and scowl at anyone who gets too close and is too loud, her toque covering up most of her unruly red hair.

"I have…had a date." Hagan looks off down the rink and squints. The girl he was with is laughing with a guy wearing a Rangers jersey. All because he can skate. Bastard! "Apparently she stopped being charmed by my accent." And realized he was a chain-smoking, foul-mouthed snarky man. He eyes Teo when he approaches. "Oh, it's that guy," ah, such a description. Hagan tries to reach for the cigarettes, but his skates give under him and his face shoves against the fence. For a second his cheek looks like a trussed him. He straightens. "You knew that was going to happen." He tries it a second time and manages to get ahold of it. Now comes the problem of lighting it when he needs one hand to keep himself from falling.

Pam would help him out, but she firmly believes smoking is bad for you and since she actually likes Hagan, she ain't helping him grow his cancer. "Is that her? In the white? Ooh, what a bitch," Pam marvels. And smiles! "It's Teo," she tells Hagan. "Do you know each other? How is Pila? Did you get her the mirror?"

No, that would be her. Tamara laughs despite being a ways away from Hagan, the bright and cheery sound of her amusement carrying over the hubbub of the ice-skating crowd. Turning to Abby, the girl smiles warmly. "Enjoy your coffee," she says to the healer, before skipping away from the rail.

Last moment, Teo gives Abigail an apologetic dip of his head. Language. He forgets, and he always will, but it bugs his shit a little more than it's bugging her shit to reprimand him than the reprimands themselves, now, so he's trying harder. Hagan's little spill admittedly gets somewhat less remorse out of him; he smiles with his whole face, without cruelty. He's no precog, but you didn't have to be to call that. He ducks his head to watch Hagan catch himself, straightens again when the other man finally works something out. "The front of the shoe blades have little teeth on them.

"I'm sure it feels counter-intuitive, but I think if you lean forward onto your toes, you'll actually manage to sink yourself a solid perch." He finds a lighter inside his coat. Manages to summon up a tiny flame without having to remove his glove. "We met briefly yesterday. Pila's better. She has the mirror and seems very happy. It's hard for me to watch, but I realize she can't tell the difference," he says. His head turns slightly to follow the silvering of retreating laughter.

Hagan is not going to be much of a conversationalist until he gets the cigarette lit. After a minute of slipping back and forth and nearly falling, he decides to take Teo's advice. Chthunk. Oh. Brakes. "Brilliant. My date couldn't tell me this." He leans forward with the cigeratte in his lips and manages to get it lit from Teo's flame. Once he takes the first drag, his whole frame seems to relax. Ahh. To Pam, "She seemed nice, you know. Though I think the magic left when she realized I wasn't bloody Colin Farrell."

"Not many people are Mister Farrell. Pretty much just him," Pam comments, nodding sagely. "I'm glad Pila's doing better. She was a sweetheart. Why does it bother you to see her enjoying the mirror?" A pause. "Does she like it better than she likes you?"

Of course not. "Of course not," Teo says, frowning at this notion. That is ridiculous. He's way better than a mirror, unless he's feeling sorry for himself, or getting punched in the face. It's nice that Pam hasn't made a fuss about the little eggplant shape he has on his face. A mirror is probably better to look at, right now. "It bothers me because she thinks it's another bird in there, doesn't she? And there isn't one. It's an illusion she's made friends with.

"Stupidly, that makes me sad. What can I say? I'm a sentimental idiot." His regard is on Hagan while he says this, lighter held steady in one hand while the Irishman does his thing. "Sorry about your date. At least she didn't puke Chinese on you. Friend of mine," he explains, shrugging a shoulder dolefully. He glances sidelong to see that Abby's alone now and nursing her coffee.

Abby gives a little hey there, hello wave when Teo looks her way, coffee still clutched in her hands. Hagan knows her, no introductions needed, even from afar.

"Your bird thinking a mirror is another bird is no bigger delusion than religion," to draw a wide comparison. Hagan smokes, physically relaxing with each puff. He manages to balance on the skates in such a way that it will be harder for him to fall. Not impossible, mind. He glances down towards Abby, then exhales. If she looks at him, he'll nod in greeting, but other than that? Things're still a bit awkward.

Pam smiles at Teo. "That's sweet, though maybe it would be easier to just be happy that something so simple can make her happy? Birds aren't really, um, all that bright. Most of them. You could make some very good arguments for crows, for example." She makes one mittened hand into a flappy mouth. "Blah blah blah." She peers at Teo's face with some concern knitting her brows. "Hmn. What's all that about?"

Box and lighter return to the recesses of Teo's jacket. "I fully realize there's no reason for me to be concerned," he says, with a smile that says that's true. "I can doubt my religion and wonder if there's no one at the receiving end of my prayers. This is different. Not very different, and maybe not in a way that has… substance, or whatever the fuck, but it matters to me. I don't really do things the easy way. It's my derangement," he admits, hanging his arms over the railing. A grin flares bright over his face at Pam's remarks on crows. "Just tooling around the other day. Stress relief, I guess. I lost a few people at Washington Irving high recently." PARIAH did it, the news says.

"Why would they target a high school anyway?" Hagan hasn't been able to figure that out. He puffs the cigarette. His body's straining from keeping himself upright, but his shoes are way over on the other side of the rink, and he needs a smoke before he can attempt that. "What's to stop a lot of people running around, claiming they're part of this one group?"

Pam winces a little, reaching out to touch Teo's elbow if she can. "I'm sorry. That must've been awful. Those poor kids…" She withdraws her hand again, shaking her head. "That doesn't help anyone." That's sobered her some. She looks to Hagan. "I'm not sure. Fear of the police and HomeSec?" She might have missed the point there.

Teo's there more than a few minutes. She's missing her source of heat. So, while not hopping over like he did, abby maneuvers to the swingdoor that lets people in and off the ice and onto the frozen water. No need to worry, she's got boots on, not ice skates. The religious red head starts making her way over to the little powwow.

She might have. Teo appreciates that the Irishman had not, on more levels than one. Morality interfaced with intelligence, recruitment, you know. The relevant categories. Which he thinks about partially so he doesn't have to think about dead ducklings for a bit, though Pam's comforting touch warrants a small ruin of a grin. "Yeah," he grunts. "I'm sorry too. I've been thinking a lot about it. The politics and stuff, too. I don't get it either, but I guess — I wouldn't. I have a cop friend who think someone's trying to fuck over the pro-Evolved movement." Dropping that remark as nonchalantly as he's capable of, he turns to see Abby walk over. Holds up a hand in greeting, fostering a twinge of guilt for having left.

"That would make perfect sense. No better way than to make your adversaries look like a bunch of freaks and murderers than to do something like take out a school and use their name." Hagan snorts. He spots Abby coming, and of course it's a total coincidence that he takes this moment to say, "I'm going to go see if I can't find my shoes. These things are bloody murder." And then he starts to move down the fence, hand-over-hand, around the outside. He's aiming for the bench on the far side.

Pam waves to Hagan as he skates off; she nods to Teo. "That makes sense. A lot of sense, actually. PARIAH is… scary, but I didn't get the impression they would actually blow up schools."

"Hey," Abby murmurs. 'Didn't know what was going on" There's a nod to pam as Abby finally catches up, no surprise to Hagan taking off. "Abigail." She offers a gloved hand to the other woman.

As ever, Teo budges a bit to make room for Abby. Their shoulders meet, at least briefly, companionable — and mismatched — as a salt and pepper shaker. "Not much. Talking current events," he murmurs back at the Southern belle, before returning his attention to the skaters. His eye flits distractedly through the swathe of nicotine smoke that seams from Hagan's cigarette. He nods at Pam and Hagan, both. "I think that's what he was getting at. Mi amico.

"He figured it was something like those Humanis assholes who strapped bombs to those Registered civilians in the other state a few weeks ago." He glances over the railing as Hagan starts to make his getaway, allows his expression to tinge red with apology again, as it's often wont to do. "Not the best conversation for a nice day," he offers Pam. "How have you been doing? Business good?"

"Pam," Pam tells Abby with a smile. "At the roller rink? You died your hair. It looks cute," she tells the other young woman. Teo's nodded to again. "I've been pretty good. Business has been… busy." Both businesses.

"Oh, right, Landing on our rears every time we breathed. Teo suggested red, so I gave it a try. So far it's working out" Back to quiet, best not to spread her bad mood. Abby too has a matching nose with Teo. "Hope everything is going good, as teo asked" The blue eyes settle on Pam easily.

Teo has a thing for red. It makes him smile because he's pleased with his decision. Color of luck in some countries he's been to, rage in others, and it suits Abigail better for the former, he thinks. "She has a headache," he adds after a moment, a bit explanation for the uncharacteristic notch in Abby's mood. Not that she needs excuses. "Mostly check-ups, I hope." He wouldn't wish health problems on the pet population at large, not even to keep the animal shelter's door turning. "What would you get a little bird for Christmas?" His eye turns, a saccadic jump, when three friends trying to skate with arms linked in tandem fall together a few yards behind Pamela.

It takes a few minutes, but Hagan's got the skates off, has returned them, and is now making his way back around the rink, coffee in hand. He's got a puff of smoke coming up from him like a chimney. As he approaches the group again, he announces, "Right. Never doing that again. No matter how pretty she is."

Pam eases away from the pileup, skates etching more lines in the ice. "It's cute," she says of Abby's hair again. "That's quite the shiner you've got there, though." She gestures toward her own face, about the nasal region. "I hope you're okay? Maybe some nice birdseed."

"Mr O'Sullivan," Abby murmurs with a nod. "How you doing" more a statement than question. At Teo's question though. "Got into an accident, but I'll be fine. I don't rightly know what you'd get a bird, truth be told, i've never had one. Bigger cage? Toys?" Coffee's running low, now it's her turn to make the excuse. "I'll be back need more coffee" And she turns, akward moment, yet again.

Wincing in sympathy for the older man, Teo nods. "Si. Never trust a beautiful woman who wants you to take a pole-vaulter's step out of your comfort zone for a first date. Particularly if they think you're Colin Farrell. I'd generalize to all beautiful women, but," he slants a crooked grin after the way that Abigail's slinking off in search of more coffee, then at Pam. "I'm smarter than that." Barely. "Different accidents," he adds, gesturing between his nose and the back of Abby's head. "Gourmet birdseed. I could find some of that."

"Mister…?" Hagan shakes his head and frowns at Abby as she moves away. Great. Now he feels awkward and old. He wrinkles his nose, sips and nods to Teo. "I realize now that she was pretending and using her imagination a lot. Fer fuck's sake. The Irish are as varied as anyone else. I'm not bloody… Prince Charming." No kidding.

Pam nods to Abby as she goes; Hagan's grinned at. Very nearly giggled at, really. "Do you know if she's allergic to cats?" she asks Teo, turning to tip her chin in Abby's direction.

Abby's oblivious to the possible insult, or to the topic of cat allergy. She intent on getting coffe, maybe, possibly, find someone with something for her head. Yup, stay away from Hagan. Becuase akwardness does not make for good social occurrences.

Prince Charming was probably from England, Teo thinks, but refrains from pointing out. "Plenty of other fish," he offers, offering the other man a clap on the shoulder and a grin with a lot of teeth exposed. From anyone else, the expression would probably come off somewhat disingenuous. On Teo, he merely looks sincere. "I don't think so. Ragazza hasn't mentioned it, anyway. Might be more of a dog person, though. I should head. Have a friend to catch up with, and I'm not being a very good one to Abigail right now. Any bars to recommend?" he asks Hagan, casual as you like. Offers the man a firm shake of a hand, and then Pamela.

"There's a few good ones. One's all right if you ignore the cheezy faux-Irishness. Biddy Flannagan's, it's called Upper East Side. Lots of choices for pints and some decent food." Of course, Hagan knows all about the bars. He clears his throat. "I think I'll be off too." He's feeling bad that Abby's feeling bad. He shakes Teo's hand. "Have a good one."

Pam takes Teo's hand to shake with a smile. "We-ell, if she's fond of animals, there are lots at the shelter who need good homes for Christmas. There's a very adorable kitten we call Stumpy. He only has three legs but he's terribly cute."

For that, Teo's face first goes OH MY GOD YOU'RE A GENIUS all big blue orbs and inspiration— only to dim, the next moment, into a sigh of regret, his cheeks puffing out. "It'd come down to either Pila or the kitten, I think. We're going to be roommates soon, and I'd rather not see the budgie get et. I'll try to come by and see what else your people have." It's a brilliant notion to consider, as far as he's concerned. He essays backward a step, tossing up one gloved hand in conclusion. "I'll take them there," he tells Hagan, cheerfully committing the name to memory. "Ciao, Americano." He turns and, in a short span of time, he's by Abigail again, the six inch disparity in their heights cutting them an odd pair as they retreat through droves of families, entertainers, and brightly-clad carolers.

The Abigail in question has just finished waiting her spot in line and has two coffees in hand and thanks to the kindness of a random mother of three kids, painkillers as well. The face, it just does it. She's preparing Teo's just the way he likes it, capping it and swallowing her pills dry, a few tucked away for her facial twin. It's passed over to Teo. "Strange. Just.. meeting people from the bar, different than if I met diner customers."

By this point, Hagan's just a scruffy silhouette, smoking and moving through the crowd. Probably on the way to a bar.

November 30th: After

Previously in this storyline…

Next in this storyline…

November 30th: At Arm's Length And Holding
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