There is a moment where it looks like Fyodor might something, but in the end he just shakes his head with a quiet, "She can handle herself."
"Of course I can, Fedya," Natasha protests, having dropped the Muscovite accent she'd slid over her vowels. Her hand dives into her purse, and there is a quick exchange of roubles for the tickets.
"You give Ivan Petrovich my regards, girl," Fyodor says, glancing again at Alex.
"I will."
Fyodor nods, and then gestures them away. "Enjoy the show," he says, and Natasha tosses him a salute before curling her arm through Alex's and pulling him down the hall.
"We fought together," she says quietly by way of an explanation.
no subject
"Of course I can, Fedya," Natasha protests, having dropped the Muscovite accent she'd slid over her vowels. Her hand dives into her purse, and there is a quick exchange of roubles for the tickets.
"You give Ivan Petrovich my regards, girl," Fyodor says, glancing again at Alex.
"I will."
Fyodor nods, and then gestures them away. "Enjoy the show," he says, and Natasha tosses him a salute before curling her arm through Alex's and pulling him down the hall.
"We fought together," she says quietly by way of an explanation.