Snippety No. 2
Sep. 15th, 2010 11:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
icepixieSo as I've mentioned before, I have this plotty piece in the works for my Closet Idealism AU, where Ivanova and Garibaldi go back to Earth to thwart an assassination attempt on President Luchenko. Tonight, for no apparent reason, this ridiculous little OC popped up and insisted I write her into the fic. She further insisted on this scene. I think I know how I'll incorporate her into the actual plot, but I'm not sure if this scene will actually make it in there. Therefore I'm posting it here. It's supposed to be amusing; it may well only be amusing to me. I make no promises.
Also, this character is played in my head by Kristen Chenoweth. I think that should help set the scene...
(Oh, and one other thing: I wanted to do right by Russian names and nicknames, but "Susan" does not exactly have that handy list of options actual Russian names have, and "Irina" has a bewildering array of possibilities, so I just joined the show in fanwanking that apparently Russians in 2263 use their full first names among friends rather than diminutives.)
She was heading for the Minister of Presidential Security's office when a very familiar voice caused her to stop in her tracks.
"Susan!"
She turned to find the tiny blonde form of one Irina Liskaya zipping toward her remarkably quickly for someone who was wearing such high heels. But Irina had always been capable of overcoming the outrageous footwear she liked to wear. "Irina," she said, opening her arms and steadying herself for the impact that was about to hit.
As she expected, Irina crashed into her with a little high-pitched squeal, and Susan hugged her tightly. It had been almost ten years since she'd seen her childhood friend, more than three since they'd had any contact at all. Their infrequent correspondence had been broken off when Babylon 5 seceded from the Earth Alliance, and in all that had happened since, it had unfortunately fallen by the wayside.
"I am so glad to see you! This is such a surprise! What on Earth are you doing here?" Irina asked when she let go. After that crushing embrace, Susan wasn't sure where she found the breath for her barrage of questions. "For that matter, what on Earth are you doing on Earth?"
"I'm glad to see you, too." She wished she could say she had just dropped by to see her old friend, but duty, as it so often did, interfered. "I need to see the head of security for this residence. It's about the President."
"Well, you're in luck. Pavel Vladimirovich is my boss. I will take you there." Irina gave her a satisfied smirk and tugged on her arm. They started walking down the hall.
"You're the Minister's assistant? Congratulations!" Last she'd heard from her, Irina had been a junior-level aide in the Russian Federation government. This was certainly a promotion.
"Thank you, Captain Ivanova," Irina replied, elbowing her lightly. At Susan's surprised expression, she giggled. "I do watch the news. Even though you never write, I did hear about that piece of information."
Susan winced, rubbing her left hand along her neck in an embarrassed gesture. "Sorry about that. We've been a little busy lately. Well, for the past few years, really."
Before she could say anything else, Irina grabbed her hand. The thin gold band on her fourth finger gleamed in the harsh fluorescent light of the hallway, and if Susan knew her friend, it was obviously that which had caught her attention.
"You got married!"
Yep.
"When did this happen? Who is it? Why didn't you tell me? Susan!"
Typical Irina, Susan thought, amused. She could help lead revolution, fight a civil war, be promoted to captain of Babylon 5, and the first thing her friend would want to hear about would be her love life.
"Well, it was a week ago tomorrow, so you haven't been out of the loop too long," she said. "And his name is Michael."
Irina's eyes widened. "So you're on your honeymoon," she said, a thousand suggestions in her voice. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"It's a long story. I'll tell you all about it when we get to a secure room." She extracted her hand from Irina's grip.
Irina looked surprised for a moment, but quickly nodded, her professionalism reasserting itself. For a moment. "It will take us a few minutes to get there," she said, linking her arm with Susan's. "This building is so old, it's had about a thousand additions built on to it, and it takes forever to get anywhere." She grinned. "In the meantime, tell me about this husband of yours. Is he a font of optimism to counteract your usual outlook?"
The mental image of a sunny Michael Garibaldi was certainly amusing. "Actually, I'm usually the cheerful one in our relationship."
Irina stared at her in open-mouthed horror. "That's the most depressing thing I've heard all week."
Also, this character is played in my head by Kristen Chenoweth. I think that should help set the scene...
(Oh, and one other thing: I wanted to do right by Russian names and nicknames, but "Susan" does not exactly have that handy list of options actual Russian names have, and "Irina" has a bewildering array of possibilities, so I just joined the show in fanwanking that apparently Russians in 2263 use their full first names among friends rather than diminutives.)
She was heading for the Minister of Presidential Security's office when a very familiar voice caused her to stop in her tracks.
"Susan!"
She turned to find the tiny blonde form of one Irina Liskaya zipping toward her remarkably quickly for someone who was wearing such high heels. But Irina had always been capable of overcoming the outrageous footwear she liked to wear. "Irina," she said, opening her arms and steadying herself for the impact that was about to hit.
As she expected, Irina crashed into her with a little high-pitched squeal, and Susan hugged her tightly. It had been almost ten years since she'd seen her childhood friend, more than three since they'd had any contact at all. Their infrequent correspondence had been broken off when Babylon 5 seceded from the Earth Alliance, and in all that had happened since, it had unfortunately fallen by the wayside.
"I am so glad to see you! This is such a surprise! What on Earth are you doing here?" Irina asked when she let go. After that crushing embrace, Susan wasn't sure where she found the breath for her barrage of questions. "For that matter, what on Earth are you doing on Earth?"
"I'm glad to see you, too." She wished she could say she had just dropped by to see her old friend, but duty, as it so often did, interfered. "I need to see the head of security for this residence. It's about the President."
"Well, you're in luck. Pavel Vladimirovich is my boss. I will take you there." Irina gave her a satisfied smirk and tugged on her arm. They started walking down the hall.
"You're the Minister's assistant? Congratulations!" Last she'd heard from her, Irina had been a junior-level aide in the Russian Federation government. This was certainly a promotion.
"Thank you, Captain Ivanova," Irina replied, elbowing her lightly. At Susan's surprised expression, she giggled. "I do watch the news. Even though you never write, I did hear about that piece of information."
Susan winced, rubbing her left hand along her neck in an embarrassed gesture. "Sorry about that. We've been a little busy lately. Well, for the past few years, really."
Before she could say anything else, Irina grabbed her hand. The thin gold band on her fourth finger gleamed in the harsh fluorescent light of the hallway, and if Susan knew her friend, it was obviously that which had caught her attention.
"You got married!"
Yep.
"When did this happen? Who is it? Why didn't you tell me? Susan!"
Typical Irina, Susan thought, amused. She could help lead revolution, fight a civil war, be promoted to captain of Babylon 5, and the first thing her friend would want to hear about would be her love life.
"Well, it was a week ago tomorrow, so you haven't been out of the loop too long," she said. "And his name is Michael."
Irina's eyes widened. "So you're on your honeymoon," she said, a thousand suggestions in her voice. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"It's a long story. I'll tell you all about it when we get to a secure room." She extracted her hand from Irina's grip.
Irina looked surprised for a moment, but quickly nodded, her professionalism reasserting itself. For a moment. "It will take us a few minutes to get there," she said, linking her arm with Susan's. "This building is so old, it's had about a thousand additions built on to it, and it takes forever to get anywhere." She grinned. "In the meantime, tell me about this husband of yours. Is he a font of optimism to counteract your usual outlook?"
The mental image of a sunny Michael Garibaldi was certainly amusing. "Actually, I'm usually the cheerful one in our relationship."
Irina stared at her in open-mouthed horror. "That's the most depressing thing I've heard all week."
