[ttd]drink to me only...[alyona]

Gaston finished marking the final essay and pushed it aside. All in all, not a bad selection of work. A few students had earned themselves failing grades of course, those who lacked interest in the subject or were taking it simply to please their parents. He had some degree of pity for the latter, but if they didn't bother to attend his extra lessons they had only themselves to blame.

It was a little after 11pm and a warm, clear evening. Rising from his desk, Gaston took the remains of his glass of wine over to the window and looked out over the school grounds. It was quiet now, the students all long since gone to their dormitories (if not yet actually asleep); one of his favourite times of day, in fact. Perhaps he would take a walk in the grounds, he thought as he watched an owl winging its way towards the building. He expected it to head for the owlery so was surprise when it aimed for his window - so surprised, in fact, that he only just stepped back in time for it to land gracefully on his windowsill.

The owl held out it's leg for him to untie the letter - just a small missive, by the looks of things - and it was then he realised the bird was familiar. "Rotbart?" he asked, rummaging on his desk for an owl treat which it gratefull accepted with a hoot of thanks. Then the owl was off again, leaving him to read the letter he now knew to be from Alyona. They'd been penfriends since they were children, attended each others' weddings, and even now still exchanged letters a few times a year, though they hadn't met up since Gaston had begun teaching. He unfurled the scroll and began to read

Invite Valera for dinner
Take blue robes to dressmaker for alterations
Go to workshop and talk to Anton
Order potion ingredients
Buy vodka
Arrange bodyguard roster
Pay detective agency

Gaston looked up and frowned. This wasn't a letter, this was... 

Worrying. Why did Alyona need a bodyguard? Why was she paying a detective agency? Gaston didn't wonder why she had sent him her to-do list; clearly that had been an accident and she had rolled up the wrong piece of parchment. He sat down and lifted his quill, ready to pen a response, and then replaced it on the desk.

Moments later he was outside, striding towards the boundaries of Beauxbatons grounds where he disapparated, reappearing in Rybinsk where it was by now after midnight. He wondered for a moment if Alyona was sleeping, then quickly dismissed the notion. One didn't send an owl and then fall straight asleep. Sure enough, there were lights on in her house as he approached, raised a hand, and knocked twice. In his hand was the list, on his face a concerned expression. Another man might be planning some kind of joke when the door opened, but all Gaston said was "Good evening, Alyona. I suspect you sent me this in error, but...I wondered if you might need a friend?"

@Alyona Tikhomirova

Every day was a challenge. Some were worse, some slightly better. Today had probably been the worst day in at least a week or two. She had tried to talk to Aglaya about the detective agency she had hired and the fact that the young investigator wanted to talk to her and spend some time around her to find out more. To her surprise Aglaya had been defensive, evasive, angry even. Of course Alyona was aware that this was not easy for her daughter, that Aglaya didn’t want the role of a victim and had already struggled to accept bodyguards when she went out in public. However, the healer had not expected her daughter to have a little breakdown because a private investigator had been hired behind her back.

’First you hire bodyguards without telling me. Now you have hired a foreign private investigator behind my back… And what comes next?’ Aglaya’s voice had been dangerously shrill and then she had turned away which could only mean one thing to the concerned mother - her daughter was trying to compose herself so she wouldn’t cry in front of her.

Since Aglaya had refused to talk to her anymore today, Alyona had made her way home to her deserted house - Anton barely paid her any visits anymore. All the things that he needed he now kept at his workshop anyway. She was living alone these days but her thoughts were always with her daughter and occasionally she mused about the state of her marriage.

Lately Alyona’s best friend was a bottle of vodka and that faithful friend paid her company now, too. She was drinking, trying to organise her thoughts (which was getting increasingly hard the more she drank) and to make lists of things she had to do. Then she remembered that she hadn’t written to Gaston in like forever and started a letter. After a while she had several pieces of parchment spread out on the table. She had another vodka shot and then summoned her owl to send it to France. Rotbart was a loyal companion but the owl pecked her hand as she tied the letter to its leg, apparently aware that she might have got the wrong piece of parchment. Alyona, however, didn’t notice or care.

The bottle, which hadn’t been full when she had started drinking, was almost empty when she heard someone knock twice on the door. It took her a moment to figure out what was going on, then she went to open the door, her wand in her hand.

“Oh,” she greeted the unexpected visitor, “it’s you. Why…?” Her voice trailed off when he asked if she might need a friend and all of a sudden Alyona felt like she really did indeed need someone.

“I don’t know why you’re here but I’m glad you came,” she said, her voice already slightly slurred from the extensive consumption of vodka.

It took only a moment to figure out what must have happened, though in reality Gaston had known already that his frind had simply sent the wrong piece of parchment. It was an easy enough mistake to make; he remembered handing in a charms essay to his very confused creative arts professor during his sixth year, this was hardly different. Well - from Alyona's speech it was clear there was one difference - he hadn't been drunk when he'd made that mistake as a student, which she was clearly well on her way to being.

Gaston rarely slept more than five or six hours a night and thus midnight was still a reasonable hour as far as he was concerned. Rybinsk wasn't a large city, from what he remembered, but there was sure to be a bar or cafe open where they could go and talk. He could have invited himself in, but whatever was causing her to hire private detectives and bodyguards was likely to be close to home. "I reeived your letter. Well actually, I received your to-do list" he said, pressing it into her hand and giving her a moment to realise what it was.

Or perhaps not. Suddenly the last thing he wanted was to be asked in for tea (or vodka, for he recalled that was Alyona's preference) and he had the distinct impression that she would benefit from forgetting about whatever her problems were for a while. Or maybe, putting them into some kind of perspective, if that was possible.

"Let's go out. Now." he said, leaving a moment for the woman to agree, collect her cloak and cast the usual charms over the front door before leaving. Then they walked down into the main wizarding section of the town, Gaston searching for a suitable place to go. They passed a nightclub which was clearly not suitable and it was at this point the Frenchman realised he had failed to bring his glasses. He read and spoke some Russian, but without his glasses he could barely pick out the cyrillic letters of the signs they were passing. Deciding that one place was as good as the next, he settled on a bar that had a name he couldn't read.

"Here? Is this place any good?" he asked as they stepped inside. There was a bar running the length of one side, soft jazz music was playing (which was acceptable, in his opinion) and there were gaming tables strategically placed around the large room. "Ah." It wasn't just a bar but a casino as well. Alyona didn't seem to object immediately so he was about to ask what she would like to drink when he realised there was some sort of live entertainment going on at the far end of the room. Even without his glasses he could see that the young witches were wearing particularly scanty clothing - which they seemed intent in removing.

Perhaps this wasn't the best place to visit tonight.

Letter, okay, but to do list? Alyona was confused. She felt that her thought process was slow. It took a moment until she looked at the piece of parchment Gaston gave to her and comprehended what was going on.

"Oh," she said feebly, feeling already too drunk and tired to say a whole lot more. "Thanks."

Glaston suggested going out and Alyona looked at him flabbergasted. Was he serious? It was dark outside. She didn't know the exact time but it was surely around midnight. However, her longtime penpal's suggestion sounded more like an order and the witch was not in the mood to fight (although, quite frankly, she was in the mood to curl up on her sofa and down the last bis of vodka there still was in her bottle).

Alyona was lucky to be still wearing her work clothes or else she might have gone our in a nightgown because she really wasn't very self-aware at this point. She put on shoes, grabbed her coat, slid her wand into its pocket and followed Gaston. Despite the fact that Rybinsk was her hometown she left it to her friend to lead the way, being mostly focused on not tripping in her not so sober state.

He already stepped inside a place that Alyona had never visited before she could protest. Reluctantly she followed the French man into the casino or strip club or whatever this was, thinking that Gaston's taste had altered over the years.

"Gaston," Alyona said as she grabbed his arm, "are you quite sure…" Her voice trailed as one of the scantily clad girls approached them and wanted to lead them into a booth with dim light and a good view towards some poles where more girls like her were giving some sort of performance.

Perhaps he should have assessed the situation a bit more carefully before suggesting an ill-advised outing. They were in their fifties now, hardly past it but a bit too mature for charging about the city this late at night, at least without a plan. And he had quickly realised that Alyona must have been drinking a fair amount before he'd arrived. She had been far more agreeable to his sudden suggestion that he remembered. Normally the woman preferred to be in control, deciding carefully what she intended to do...

"No" he said, averting his gaze and turning so Alyona didn't need to look at the, ah, dancers either "I am beginning to think this was a particularly bad idea. Shall we find a nice cafe instead?" He nodded to the girl in what he hoped was a sufficiently polite and apologetic fashion and gestured for Alyona to lead the way back onto the street.

There, he breathed the fresh air with relief and felt somewhat ashamed. They had barely spoken beyond the surprised greetings and he had entirely taken charge of what had turned out to be a crazy, rather out of character adventure. "Please forgive me" he said as they walked, more slowly this time "I assume that you've had some difficult times recently..." he was alluding to the final two items on her list, but was unsure how to continue. If Alyona wanted to tell him, she would.

"Is there somewhere that serves good coffee that will be open this late? It's been far too long since we talked" he smiled, realising that he had missed spending time with someone who knew him well and yet didn't expect anything from him other than friendship. That was far too rare, in his experience "I'd love to tell you about my last few years as a professor...and you can tell me...anything you choose." The night was still young, at least as far as Gaston was concerned. An hour or two in a quiet cafe talking with his friend would be the ideal way to spend it.

[out]

Normally Alyona would have felt very awkward in a situation like this. Now she just felt tired, indifferent and, maybe, a little amused because Gaston had found the one and only magical strip club in Rybinsk.

Gaston seemed to realise that the randomly chosen place was not quite ideal for them. While there were some males of his age, Alyona was likely the only woman older than maybe 30 who was here.

She nodded in agreement when Gaston suggested leaving. Her mind was working too slowly to immediately respond that no café in Rybinsk would still be open at this time. However, she was glad to leave this place again. She was swaying slightly as she walked outside, belatedly thinking that she had seen a very familiar face near the poles.

While she was still processing what she had seen, Gaston addressed her, asking her forgiveness and saying that he assumed she had had a difficult time. Alyona offered a grimace-like smile and reached for his arm to steady herself. She was still sober enough to walk, but she had slipped into her heels instead of choosing comfortable shoes when he had taken her by surprise.

"No café is open anymore," she said when Gaston asked her about it. "But why don't we have coffee at my place?" It was a suggestion but also kind of a plea. Alyona was desperate to sit down comfortably without having to worry how she'd get home later.

"I'd like to hear your news," she added, thinking that after having a cup of coffee (and some water) she’d be more alert and attentive and, therefore, more able to have a proper conversation. His offer that she could tell him anything she’d like went uncommented for now but she felt sure there was something she would like to talk about in due time.

For now, however, she was content to walk home in silence.

[end]