Boris Fedorov owned his own Brothel with a well stocked bar, but he preferred to drink around town. Not that his booze was poor quality, quite the opposite, but it was always the same crowds, everyone always kissed his ass. Boring! Boris found himself sitting on a wooden stool, placed in a hole in the wall bar. It was a tiny place with very few people in it, the booze was sub par but not terrible; he had come here hoping to find some nice company to potentially spend the night with. So far his luck hadn't been great, Tommy had always forbidden fraternization between the crew and the girls at the brothel, and Boris still respected it long after the big mans death. It was a solid but inconvenient philosophy. With a grumble he took a long drink off of the bottle of vodka in front of him.

Sophia had found herself at one of her favorite locations, it was a small bar kind of off the beaten path. The booze wasn't the greatest, not at all. There were countless other places that had far better booze. The main reason she frequented this establishment was for the crowd, which was always small. Her spot at the bar was always opened, as if everyone knew that the seat 3 over from the back wall. It was the best seat in the bar, back away from the front door so she could see anyone coming in yet still close enough to the liquor.

She sat there with her whiskey on the rock, taking small sips. She wasn't really a huge fan of the whiskey, just mainly drank it to appease the owner who had become one of her better friends. Usually she wouldn't mind turning down a drink, this was about the only situation when she never did. So she sat there stirring the ice in the glass with her finger as it slowly melted in the glass. Picking it up and placing it to her lips she glanced over the rim of the glass and noticed a stocky man sitting at the other side of the bar chugging down a bottle of liquor. 

For a brief moment their eyes locked, quickly Sophia finished her sip and turned back to the owner to strike up a conversation with him.

Boris was taking a nice drink of his vodka when his eyes met those of a beautiful women down the bar, the big Russian, naturally confident, took that as his sign. He stood up, straightened his jacket up and grabbed his bottle, he walked down the bar until he was at the stool next to her, where he promptly took a seat.

"Hello there, I am Boris; Can I get you a drink?"

His accent wasn't terribly thick, but no one could ever mistake the Russian accent. He kept his face set in a way that he thought normally melted the ladies.

As Sophia was in conversation with the owner of the bar, she suddenly felt a presence beside her. She always had a knack for things of that sort, she just had that heightened sense of security. Which is probably why she always sat in the same spot when frequenting this joint. Slowly she turned to her right and noticed the stocky Russian now sitting next her. His inquiry about buying her a drink made her laugh, she picked up the drink that she was already nursing and took another sip before placing it down back in front of her. 

"I'm good, I still have one has you can tell."

Rolling her eyes towards him, she turned and directed her attentions back to the conversation she was having with the owner. 

Boris scowled. This one wanted to play hard to get, in truth, it made him want her even more. So he sat straight, taking periodic sips from his bottle as he listened to their conversation with faux interest. Waiting until she was done, and had more time for the self proclaimed, devilishly handsome, Boris Fedorov. In the meantime, he subconsciously hummed Ruslan and Lyudmila. It had been his fathers favorite song to listen to while winding down after work, it had been stuck in his head ever since. 

The door to the bar opened up as a couple new people came in to wet their whistles. The owner excused himself from the meaningless conversation he was having with Sophia. They never tend to talk about anything important but more ridiculous topics, something to break up the mundane ways of normal life. As he walked away Sophia downed the rest of her drink, she looked at the time. It was only 7:42pm, way too early to call it a night but late enough to not go anywhere else. She placed the glass down on the bar and yelled over to the owner.

"Hey Steve! Glass of Red when you get a moment."

With a nod and before he could make it to the new group of people, he cracked open a bottle of red poured her a glass and placed it directly in front of her. She picked up the glass gave it a swirl and put it to her nose. The earthiness of the wine sent a bit of euphoria into her body, she then took a sip. The warm sensation radiated through her body and instantly relaxed her. Now all she needed to do was put up her feet and just the place to do that was over in the loan booth in the front of the bar. Now it was a bit out of sorts for her to go sit up there but there was something about this situation that she needed be there. Picking up her glass and her belonging she headed over to go sit. The stocky Russian watched her every move but she paid no mind to it. It wasn't the first time someone has been caught staring at her, though with the attitude she had she could not just say nothing.

"Hey, you... Yeah the one with the bottle of vodka. Pictures tend to last a bit longer just so you know."

The conversation droned on and on and on and on. But Boris was Russian therefore his stubborn resolve was unshakable. He had set his sights on this one and meant to see it through. When her conversation finally ended she got herself a glass of wine and before he could speak she got up and walked to a booth. She shouted to him, he put up a finger and pointed to himself, and she confirmed it, pictures tend to last longer. Ahhhh......this must be a sign of her growing interest in him. He grabbed his bottle and made his way over to her booth, she occupied a good half of it, and he helped himself to a portion of it. He set his bottle down and responded to her.

"Pictures do last long time. But no picture could capture such beauty. I hope you do not mind. I sit here now."

"You just don't get it do you?"

Sophia huffed and then let out a sigh. She couldn't tell if he was just that persistent or if he was a bot slow. She glanced at the bottle of Vodka which was more empty then full. 

"Perhaps all that vodka has made you think unclear. Perhaps you should drink some more, doesn't that sound like a fantastic idea?"

For a moment there she forgot the type of person she was talking to, this guys sitting across from her was Russian. He probably started drinking vodka out of a sippy cup when he was a wee little one.

"Never mind that, what the hell do you want from me?"

He grinned at her fiercely, she had a bit of fire in her. She reminded him of Russian woman, if they didn't punch you in the face at least once, the date was not going well. He gave her a big wink when she told him to drink more, who was he to refuse, this vodka was barely stronger then water, nothing like the vodka he kept at his bar. 

"This is good for now. I like this. Good for getting to know you. Then after this who knows. Maybe we go somewhere else."

He finished the last of the bottle, and set it down on the table. He figured he had a bit of a buzz going on, but he wasn't drunk, he knew for a fact, that shit was watered down. Bartender was gonna make him pay out the ass when he ordered another bottle.

"Go somewhere else..."

Sophia chuckled to that response.

"The only place I'm going after this is home and there is no way in hell you are coming with."

She picked up her glass of wine taking a big gulp, finishing the contents. Without hesitation she grabbed her glass got up from the booth and wandered back to the seat she was previously sitting at. The owner noticed her on the way back to the seat and already had the bottle of red in his hand waiting to pour her another glass.

"You know me oh so well Tony, after this one I'm done though."

She placed a dollars on the bar, which was plenty to cover her drinks plus a little extra for the service.

The grinning Russian followed her back to the bar, pointing at the empty bottle when he caught the eye of the bartender. He took a seat next to, he hadn't caught her name yet. He would call her красота, it was a name that suited her well.

"красота, Why come back to bar. Boris vould happily have gotten you new drink. Done soon? We go for dinner, I vill pay, something nice."

Boris was kind of hungry himself, he would let красота pick where she wanted to go and treat her, and then they could get to really know each other. 

Placing her head into her hand for a moment of disbelief, she just wasn't able to understand what was wrong with this guy. Was she not clear enough that she wanted absolutely no parts of him and on top of it he was trying to sweet talk her in Russian. What he didn't know though was that Sophia was multi lingual and understood everything that came out of his mouth.

" красота? Pour l'amour de baise."

When Sophia started to get mad and irritated was when things got interesting. She was always one to mix languages, French was her go to as it was her fathers primary language, one that she learned from the moment she could walk. Though she knew this guy was Russian, a language she didn't completely know but knew enough of to understand. 

"Quel type de femme pensez-vous que je suis? Je ne vais pas sortir avec toi juste parce que vous vous êtes assis à côté de moi tu me baise plaisantez?"

Taking a quick breath and by the look on this guys face she knew he really didn't understand what she was saying. So she reeled it back for a moment. Slowly she began speaking in his native tongue.

"Ты и я не случится !" 

After she said that she thought to herself. "I hope I said that right."

Boris did not know french, but he knew french when he heard it. He could appreciate an intelligent woman, if he was lucky she could learn Russian and they could speak in his native tongue. As that thought crossed his head she spoke Russian. 'You and I are not going to happen.' She spoke Russian well, though he couldn't help but think she messed it up a little.

"No, no. Good but little wrong, красота. This how you say. Вы и я произойдет сегодня вечером."

It was at that point that a fresh bottle of vodka was set down in front of him, he beamed in joy, and cracked it open. He beckoned to her to have the first drink, which was a sign of great respect among the Russians.

Sophia grabbed the bottle of vodka and took a giant swig, she was going to give it back to him but decided to just keep it for herself. Usually one way to piss off a Russian is to keep his liquor away from him. It was at this time she had fully decided to get under his skin, see how much he could endure of her attitude.

She slid the bottle off to her left, making sure it was just out of the reach of him. She smiled towards him and with a calming voice she spoke up, first in French.

"Si vous essayez tout ce que je vais vous couper et croyez-moi vous ne serez pas le premier."

She paused for a moment.

"Let me explain this to you in English. If you dare try something, I will cut you. Don't think I won't I have done it before."

She pulled out a knife from her boot and placed it on the bar next to her.

She took the bottle and took a swig, not so much as a flinch in her face at the alcohol. A woman after his own heart, this one might have a little Russian in her. 

"I told you I vould buy you a drink. You chose the most Russian drink, I could not be happier."

He flagged the bartender down and got himself another bottle, the bartender made him pay up, not trusting him to pay for three overpriced bottles once drunk. Boris payed up and turned back to his красота, who set a knife on the table. He took his knife out and set it on the table too, a Russian sign of good faith, to not conceal weapons among friends. He assumed she had a gun, he had one too, but he kept that hidden until she was ready.

"I vould never do something to hurt you, красота, unless that was what you wanted. I do not judge."

He chuckled at his own joke, figuring that she wouldn't find it quite as funny as he did. He took a swig of his vodka and smiled, eyeing her knife. It was a nice piece, nicer then his to be certain, though of comparable size.

As the word красота spewed out of his mouth once more it sent shivers down her spine. She hated to be referred to as an object, she wasn't like most woman. Most woman would normally not even flinch at the thought of being an object, part of it was the due fact of the time era. In most instances women weren't seen as equals, this was something Sophia whole hardheartedly disagreed with.

"ÉCOUTER"

She slammed the bottle of vodka down on the bar, hard enough that it cracked the bottom slightly and started to leak out.

"SOPHIA.... MY NAME IS SOPHIA. You best for your safety stop calling me beauty, cause I won't hesitate to jam this knife into your thigh..... Understood?"

Boris winced as the vodka began to leak from the bottom of the bottle, the threat of stabbing didn't bother him, the shock of the slam didn't bother him, but the leaking vodka was something that he didn't care for. 

"Sophia is very beautiful name. May I help you with drink?"

Boris wasn't a stranger to a bottle swap, he had an empty bottle, and a full leaking one, he would just poor one into the other. He was sure of it now, Sophia definitely had a bit of Russian running through her veins.

"Does this bother you that the vodka is leaking out of the bottle like this? Don't worry I will take care of it."

She already knew the answer to this question so she decided to dig her heels in a bit further. She picked up the leaking bottle and instead of handing it to him to save the contents she held steady in between them. Slowly she began tilting the bottle as to where the vodka inside began pouring out and onto the floor. She continued this until the entire bottle was emptied and a puddle of vodka formed below her feet.

Once the bottle finished draining she placed it on the bar in front of him then proceeded to grab her bag. It was about time for her to head home.

Boris's mouth fell agape as she poured the vodka on the ground, this woman knew how to hit a Russian in the soft spot, without ever raising a finger. Sophia had big balls, real big balls. When the bottle was done she st it back down and grabbed her bag, the stunned Boris shook his head.

"I could tell. You were different. Tell me Sophia, do you believe in судьба? If you go, судьба, will bring us back together."

He sheathed his knife back at his belt, his face straight and serious as he looked at the woman in front of him. The buzz that he had been maintaining was wearing off, and the smell of vodka at this portion of the bar, was making him thirsty.