Vyacheslav, had been drinking his problems he didn't believe he had away with a bottle of vodka when Angie burst in unexpectedly like that. He reacted quickly then, shoving the bottle behind one of the crates and shoving on the lab coat that he'd absent-mindedly chucked on the filthy concrete floor. He had no idea where he'd thrown the surgical gloves so he just shoved his hands in his pockets and stood there, grinning at the young woman like everything was alright, which it really was in the rather eccentric Russian's opinion.
"`ello, Angie!" he said cheerfully. She didn't look too happy so he could tell that there was bad news coming up. Not that he really minded bad news. In fact, it was better than good news because he could always find the funny side and double over with laughter, much to Angie's annoyance. He smirked at the thought, but managed to contain himself, "So...Vhat do you vant, hm? I vas...Geeveeng you some space to do your vork." It was a lame excuse, obviously. Angie would probably come back with something like, 'But it's your work as well!' but he wasn't good at thinking of excuses on such short notice though it's a skill that would have been useful in his and Angie’s position.
Tip jar: the author of this post has received
0.00 INK
in return for their work.
