girls, girls, girls [lev]

[VADIM ISAAK PETROV]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 366x; height: 190px; padding: 10px; background-color: #dcd4c7; border: #eae4d8 10px solid;] YANKEE GIRLS YA JUST CAN'T BE BEAT. A look of surprise formed across Vadim's sunken features as the quite attractive female bar tender at Upscale had refused his request for a drink, simply sliding his identification back to him and asking if maybe he would be interested in a soda instead or perhaps a Shirley Temple. In Russia, there was no legal drinking age, not technically anyway, and you only had to be eighteen to be served or to purchase alcohol. Needless to say, being treated like a child wasn't something that the male handled very well, he got that enough from Anya and on occasion Lev when he felt like having a power complex or decided that he was Nikita. It had taken him nearly every ounce of self control in his rather long and stringy body to not ask the female if she valued her life or had any common sense, being how she had denied the last name Petrov and should have had at least enough brain cells to realize that usually a thick Russian accent and a passport in Boston wasn't ever a positive thing. His lips twisted into a grimace as he tried his best to be polite to her, watching as the woman bit her lip and tilted slightly back and forth, possibly stifling a giggle. Oh, she was flirting. This breed or flirting wasn't exactly Vadim's cup of tea, seeing as how he had a complex bigger than Edward Elric when anyone made a reference to either his size, or his age. Of course, Edward Elric probably would have killed to be a towering six foot three like Vadim Petrov, but his Bambi legs and his tattooed biceps like skeleton arms weren't exactly threatening. Then again, none of the Petrov's looked all that threatening. Even Anya could have passed for some kind of supermodel if you didn't know that she was eight shades of crazy and another twelve shades of bitch. With a grunt, the male somehow managed to spit the word "Coke" out between his teeth, his astoundingly crystal eyes boring holes into her that probably could have torn into her as easily as the bullets in the gun that he had tucked away in his black leather boot at this very moment. Once the woman had scampered off with the drink orders, his attention was cast completely onto his older brother, his stony exterior softening a bit as he sighed heavily and drummed his fingers against the bar, chipped black nail polish topping off the slender and spidery fingers. For a moment he used the tip of his tongue to flick his lip piercing from side to side before sucking his bottom lip inward so it fell back into place, head cocking to the side and towards the waitress as he looked to Lev. "Do you find her attractive?" Vadim asked smoothly, an almost sickeningly sweet smile returning to his face as his glass of Coke was placed in front of him. "And to think, I half expected you to serve it to me with a bendy straw." Though his statement could have been taken in jest, the tone of his voice suggested no sense of humor and if anything, made her entirely uncomfortable as she seemed like she wasn't exactly sure how to react. "I thought that this was supposed to be the nicest bar in Boston." Thoughtfully, he took a sip from the glass, noticing immediately how much more sugary the beverage tasted here than it did back home. "It's the law, sir." She told him with an apologetic stare, and he was partly satisfied now that she had referred to him as sir. Still, it was incredibly difficult to feel anything like a sir when you were drinking Coke while everyone around you was drinking fancy American things that he'd never even heard of. WORDS: NOT MANY. DIDN'T WANT TO SCARE YOU . TAGGED: LEV.

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[LEV ALEXEI PETROV]

So this was it? This was how he was going to spend his time? It wasn't as though Lev had anything better to do if he'd chosen to spend this night on his own; just that he hadn't expected to be surrounded by so many obnoxious drunks (or potential drunks) and an irritating bartender. The fact that Vadim was at his side was easily overlooked; not for wanting to avoid his family, but that he had learned how to zone out and focus on the bubble he existed in rather than the rest of the world around him. It was part of the training that he'd put himself through when separating himself from Nikita. The conversation between the bartender and his sibling wasn't heard, but he got the gist of it while examining the expressions shown from each side. The moment he figured out that the younger had gotten offended by whatever was up for discussion (Lev could only imagine it was about his age, considering the identification being taken back at the time of their talk,) the elder almost smirked.

It didn't matter, to him, how old his family was. If anyone knew what they went through and what they'd seen or heard from being 'in the business,' there was no way they'd ever think of them as 'too young' for anything. Truly, that should have been a topic left for himself and Anya to tease and poke at instead of the asshole attitudes they were currently suffocating in. Maybe it was because he was older, because he was legal enough to get a drink, that being there didn't nag at his conscious as much as it probably should have. In fact, if the seats weren't so close together, Lev could have had the smallest chance at being comfortable there. No one bothered him unless he got in their way - which was easy enough for him to do, and if they did bother him, they were quick to apologize - though if they felt like starting up some kind of shouting match, there was always that secret weapon tucked away in his back pocket that was willing to spring forward and take care of whatever trouble that took the chance and presented itself. There was nothing to worry about sitting there. Nothing save for his lack of personal space.

His fingers were wrapped around his glass, sitting slightly slouched forward and with his elbows on the bar. Bored eyes stared at the clear liquid that was provided to him. There were too many reasons that kept the brunet from having an intense desire to drink. The possible danger of it was one, the other was knowing that it was better to keep his eyes on the younger boy than to let his own inhibitions take over and fog the logical senses that kept him grounded for the time being. It was nice to know he could think things through. He didn't think in terms of violence or power or what their name and 'connections' could get for them. He thought in terms of numbers and facts and reason; letting everything else roll off of him like rain on waterproof glass. At least; he tried to. Once the woman wandered away with the other male's more playful interests in mind (her childish flirting was unmistakable, after all,) Lev took another moment to sip from his drink; the alcohol just barely touching his lips before Vadim's voice reached his ears. What had he just asked?

Blue eyes shifted to their corners then his head turned to catch up with the action; the entire gesture seeming entirely too lazy to be anything too horrible. He cocked an eyebrow at his brother then glanced at the girl before dragging his gaze to the other Russian beside him. "No," he said simply. The smirk from before finally surfaced with the comment about her serving him with a bendy straw. Oh, how Lev would have loved to see that scene unfold before him. He could only imagine how enraged his closest company would have gotten were he served with that sticking out of the glass; bobbing in the water and almost tipping out of the container to fall to the bar in front of him because he didn't sip from it or catch it fast enough. It was a priceless picture in the back of his mind and he couldn't help but let his eyes fall shut gently and enjoy it for a few seconds while the conversation finished. Waiting till she'd turned away, the Coke was picked up and a large sip was taken from it; refilling the glass to the top from his own.

Now he could get back to their subject without Vader whining or pouting like a child. Couldn't he? "Why would I find her attractive? You can only see half of her behind the bar and, judging on that half... I don't think I want to see the other." Turning so that his attention fell on one of the girls that were obviously there for the free drinks that came from guys trying to intoxicate her enough to take her home with them. "Besides. Girls like that," he threw a gesture by nodding in her direction while speaking, "are easy to get a hold of. I'm not praising her kind, but at least you see everything on the surface. Only fake parts on her are right there on her chest, staring you in the face." His words were riddled with a gentle, rumbled laughter; the smallest of smiles perking his expression as he turned back to toy with his own glass again.