fandomhighdorms | Fifth floor common room, Monday morning

Nadia had fallen asleep on the couch in the common room with the book of Poe open on her face. So waking up from having spent the weekend very firmly believing that she was actually Hamlet involved waking up to be staring at a very large and rather unfocused illustration of a demonic raven . . . and then falling off the couch.

Once she'd managed to collect herself somewhat, she did a quick mental inventory to make sure she still remembered all the important things, and a physical inventory that involved the realization that she really, really hoped Walter would not get mad about the fact that she'd been wearing and sleeping in his clothes for two days and as a result they were dingy, ripped, and, yes, grass-stained. Of course, Walter had apparently thought he was Angela, so he might forgive her. She also made a mental note to find Pip, welcome him home properly with a big hug, and then grill him for details about what had happened.

She set to work cooking up some empanadas (and yes, one of the things that she'd learned in her five-days-that-were-actually-a-year in Argentina was how to cook for people who didn't have steel stomachs) for breakfast.

[ooc: open like an opening thing. These empanadas have no odd ingredients, though there IS hot sauce available for flavoring . . . if you choose.]

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"Really? That's too bad. I love me a good General Tso's."

He squinted at Seras. "I have the feeling I'm forgetting something."

Seras squinted back.

"Well, as I recall we did have an appointment for you to beat the stuffing out of me. Or teach me to fight. I forget which."

Pip facepalmed. "Merde. I'm so sorry."

Seras snorted and poked the side of his leg with her toe.

"Don't worry. I think you had something a little more important on your mind."

Pip flinched. "Want to reschedule?"

"Sure."

Seras' brow furrowed at his flinch.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I just don't like breaking promises. I mean, that's what seperates us from other mercenary companies is that we keep our promises."

"Oh."

Seras folded and unfolded her fingers for a moment or so.

"I'm not angry about it. If that's any consolation..."

Pip grinned. "Well then, when shall we two meet again so that I may wipe the floor with you?"

Seras thought a moment.

"Well, I can do it Wednesday. After work."

Pip nodded. "Wednesday's good. When do you get off work?"

"Five thirtyish. Unless I get stuck with stocking or something. I'll call you if I do."

"Stocking with Baldrick's system? I don't envy you. Alright, five-thirty at the gym it is."

Seras nodded and held out her hand.

"Deal."

Pip grinned and shook it. "I'll teach you how to take on people twice your size."

~~Unless they're creepy five hundred year old vampires who can regenerate their arms.~~

Sera frowned and crossed her arms.

"I'm not that short."

~~In which case, they'll just shoot you through the lungs, so not much point, really~~

Pip laughed. "How tall are you then?"

~~They're such bastards like that. If they weren't fighting Nazis, I'd say they were evil.~~

"Five foot five. And a half."

~~thank god for the nazis~~

"And that half means everything in the world." Pip grinned. "Well, size isn't everything. And I mean that. Brian is probably an inch shorter than you."

"Brian's one of your mercenary friends?"

"Yes. Irish-Mexican guy. Insanely good fighter. I mean... moves like chain lightning. We're talking Walter speed."

"Really? Is it Brian who taught you to fight?"

Pip nodded. "He taught me the knife fighting. And a lot of the instinctual street fighting."

"He...taught you...instinct?"

Pip frowned a little. "It's... kind of difficult to explain. He taught me the way to think. The way to approach fighting."

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