Despite the fact that Christmas, and more specifically American Christmas was one of her favorite things in the world, she’s just not feeling very festive. So, Yelena is holed up in her flat, on the couch with a fuzzy blanket and her dog next to her, trying to decide what to put on tv for background noise.
Which, of course, is when the knock comes on her door.
She isn’t expecting anyone and it brings a touch of a frown to her features. “Ostavat’sya,” she murmurs quietly to Franny, who perks up at the knock, but does as asked with familiar command; she still watches Yelena very closely as she goes to answer the door.
The knock, rhythmic in the same way twice, comes again and this time a voice is accompanied with with it. A voice Yelena recognizes, which drops all of her hackles as she yanks the door open, “Daisy Johnson, what are you doing here?”
"Saving you, from the looks of things." There's a note of teasing, of mirth between her tone and the glint in her eyes as she looks at Yelena, noting that her place seems quiet - aside from the shuffle of the dog on the couch because she is curious, as is her right - and Daisy decides that is probably about as bad as it would've been had she gone back to her place with her tiny pre-decorated tree and festive wear on her hula girl to keep her company.
It would've been worse, because at least Yelena has her dog.
"I saw you didn't get dragged to the party, so I brought the party to you," she's holding up the arm full of items she stuffed in a decorative bag she'd taken on her way out so she had a way of holding everything and tries to move it enticingly for Yelena. "It's not a bad time, right?"
"From what?" she glances back over her shoulder into her flat, "Being home and with my dog? That is basically everyone's wish in life, yes?"
Still, she isn't actually denying her entry into her apartment, as she side-steps to give her space to walk in and Yelena locks up behind her. Locks make her feel better, even if she knows, given her specific line of work, they are essentially useless.
"Did you bring half of the snack table with you?" she asks, amused. "No, no bad time. Just a boring one... which will be less so, now that you are. here." she snaps in Franny's direction, which gives her permission to finally leap from the couch and run over to sniff at Daisy's shoes and lick her knee. Just dog things, you know.
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đź‘€ ; stay;
Which, of course, is when the knock comes on her door.
She isn’t expecting anyone and it brings a touch of a frown to her features. “Ostavat’sya,” she murmurs quietly to Franny, who perks up at the knock, but does as asked with familiar command; she still watches Yelena very closely as she goes to answer the door.
The knock, rhythmic in the same way twice, comes again and this time a voice is accompanied with with it. A voice Yelena recognizes, which drops all of her hackles as she yanks the door open, “Daisy Johnson, what are you doing here?”
no subject
It would've been worse, because at least Yelena has her dog.
"I saw you didn't get dragged to the party, so I brought the party to you," she's holding up the arm full of items she stuffed in a decorative bag she'd taken on her way out so she had a way of holding everything and tries to move it enticingly for Yelena. "It's not a bad time, right?"
no subject
Still, she isn't actually denying her entry into her apartment, as she side-steps to give her space to walk in and Yelena locks up behind her. Locks make her feel better, even if she knows, given her specific line of work, they are essentially useless.
"Did you bring half of the snack table with you?" she asks, amused. "No, no bad time. Just a boring one... which will be less so, now that you are. here." she snaps in Franny's direction, which gives her permission to finally leap from the couch and run over to sniff at Daisy's shoes and lick her knee. Just dog things, you know.