Unholy Affairs


fedor_icon.gif teo_icon.gif

Scene Title Unholy Affairs
Synopsis 'Does Mrs. Ivanov know you're fucking her son?'
Date February 5, 2009

Chinatown — A Church

There's a small church in Chinatown with Saint Rita mosaiced in the middle of the stunted grove outside and a priest that Teodoro grew up with fussing around somewhere on the roof garden. Normally, Teo doesn't go to church promptly after sex, and sex isn't why he's here now. Coincidence. He is seated on the pew not far from the altar, lit by subtly-changing angles candle flames flicker and tilt in curious concert with a wind too faint for him to feel.

His jacket is shed, deference to the setting. Skewed open by the pull of the overgarment, the collar of his hoodie divulges the bite-mark healing at the base of his neck, just above the round bone of his first vertebrate. If he knew, he'd probably be embarrassed enough to hitch the sweater up, quick, but he doesn't. Stares straight ahead, absently, at the image of Mary.

Fedor takes a moment outside, peering curiously at his aviator for a moment before preening. He makes certain the emerald green silk of his shirt's collar is folded just so, and that the funeral tie he wears is knotted just so. How he hated rushing about. He slips into the church, peering about for a moment before dropping a hand to casually unbutton his jacket and further tug at his cufflinks. He was getting to old for this shit, not that he looked like it of course. With his Fedora in hand, he made his way quietly across the finely tiled floor with delicate footfalls. Casually as a young man in a three piece suit can, he slides into the pew alongside Teo.

He too, busies himself with doffing his jacket to gently lay it across his lap. "My name is Fedor," he offers Teo abruptly, his voice perhaps just an octave lower than you'd expect it to be. "I believe you know a relative of mine, so to speak in any case. "his voice is low in both octave and volume thankfully. "You see there never was any real legal family bond, but frankly that's neither here nor there. How long have you been fucking Felix now, does his mother know about your special arrangement?" Youthful blue eyes, blink only once as they study Teo like a novel."Not that there's anything wrong with that, I should hope you don't take my question for an insult. I find it rather useful however, when two men can sort've skip the bullshit and get right to the heart of the matter."

Were Teo seated just a little less firmly on the panel of wood he chose at the front of the room, he probably would have fallen over onto his head and spilled across the stone with a few new bruises.

Instead, he finds himself locked firmly in place and extremely surprised, his own blue eyes round and heatlessly pale as the winter sun, and the ache of whiplash gnawing into the side of his neck, already sore from trying, failing, to adjust to the loss of the metal plate that once weighed down the left side of his skull. After a very long moment, candle-light and the absence of humidity itching into his corneas, he remembers to blink.

"I'm sorry," he answers, very clearly. "I don't talk about the people I know with strangers. Not to be rude, signor, but that wouldn't be very polite of me. Please understand." It takes him as many seconds to say that to start to blush, but when it comes, it's about as red as a fire engine. Of all the places he would prefer not to hear his Biblical indiscretions projected aloud, this would be among the. You know. Most sacred.

There's not a nod, yes well the blush said everything he needed to know. "Yes I see, well would you do me a great favor? You see his dear mother, sent me a terrifically depressing letter out of the blue some time back. She told me, her darling Felix had been murdered by some animals. You see I owe the Ivanov family no small debt, so I was somewhat obliged to grant her wishes. She asked for me to throw away my happy little life, and all the boring little details that were very important so that I could come here and educate these animals to the error of their ways." He smiles, leaning in a touch as if to share some joke. "So you can imagine my surprise, when I arrived and begun preparations to start filling bodybags like they were going out of style only to discover that the little wolf was still alive? Goodness me, I was quite confused."

He reaches across, snapping his fingers to produce a business card. "I would consider it a personal favor, if you would deliver him a small package and relate the fact that I'm in town? My contact information is on the card, I'm afraid I left the package just outside however. Its in a very public place, and I assure you if I had any desire to do harm to either you or Felix I wouldn't have been quite so forthcoming. Would you be so kind so as to accompany me outside then, it might look queer. No offence of course, but anyway it could look a little queer if I come and go and such. You know how people are in the light of this latest witch hunt hrm?"Of course, Fedor doesnt wait. He just rises and throws his jacket across his arm, before slowly walking towards the exit. His off hand subconciously tugging his vest down as he walks.

Goodness who? Teo isn't— Teo stares at the young man as he words a lot and then starts to go away with what might have amounted to an invitation if you were good at parsing insane person. Fortunately or not, Teodoro socializes with very few people who could easily be categorized as sane anymore. His brow finds an irritable knit, dark with the beginnings of a scowl; he glances over his shoulder as the utterly bizarre stranger starts away.

"The only good reason you'd give something to me to give him if you knew he wouldn't take it from you yourself," he points out, presently. His face hasn't come out of its blush; he takes the momentary swivel of his head through the room of worship to assure himself that no one — especially not Father Benito — heard that private tidbit that Fedor had unleashed on the church.

Thank God.

There are other concerns ambient in the tension around him, of course. Homeland Security, the Bureau. Hana's going to kill him. "Give it to him yourself." The younger man paws his hood back up with a rough-fingered hand, suddenly self-conscious. He snags his jacket with the other hand. Rises, slowly, albeit with no visible intent to follow Fedor anywhere.

There's a pause in footfalls, as Fedor turns to look back at Fedor. "Sure thing young man, just pass him my number." That's sufficient to satisfy everyone's favorite cannibal, and without a parting snap or witty retort beyond the aforementioned utterance he slips outside. Slipping both his Fedora and jacket back on, he slides away from the church. Just as abruptly as he entered, he's gone exit stage right.

Somewhere between watery-kneed relief and lingering tension, the intellectual part of Teo's brain is wondering what persuasion of horrifying creep he just tried to obstruct from his old fuck friend. Brow furrowed, the Sicilian glances down at the small rectangle of a business card that was left to his care. He has to stoop in order to pry it off the floor with the tips of his fingers, lifting it to stare through the translucency of paper pulp in front of candlelight.

Chicago Executive Air
Fedor Rochinikev

Rotary & Fixed wing Pilot
Teterboro Airport xxx-xxx-xxxx

That seems okay. Also makes absolutely no sense to Teo on a number of levels, among them why a pilot is so fucking good at working ground and why he might know Felix, apart from the possibility they're out of the same crazyhouse.

He squints hard, as if narrowing the edges of his focus might magically clarify the secrets hidden between those diminutive lines of serifed text. It doesn't help, of course. He bites his lip, looks up. Down again. Finds his phone, and weighs the limitations of his responsibility and debt to the stupid old Russian against his desire and capacity to meddle.

Click. "Wireless?" He rubs callused knuckles into his eye, steps out of the pews. "Could you run a background check for me?"

February 5th: Dogs, Pilots, and Women
February 5th: Repetitive Kindness
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