Mishka
Chapter Ten: Souvenir“I need to change.” Natalya said, indicating her Olympic uniform.
“I’m not sure I want to let you out of my sight,” MacGyver said. “I’ve been trying to spend some time with you since you tried to break into my room.”
Natalya gave an exasperated gasp. “I did not! An innocent mistake…” her protests ceased as she saw him laughing. “Oh,
you!”
They had intended to change their clothes, but somehow their feet led them past the hotel and into the city. After a few blocks MacGyver’s apples fell prey to their appetites, and then they were walking along streets lined with the carts of vendors taking advantage of the burgeoning crowds attracted by the Trials to sell their wares.
They bought porilainen and cabbage rolls on one street corner, and munched as they walked among the tourists, two people in a crowd but completely tuned in to each other.
MacGyver finished his last roll in a large bite, trying not to get any of the savoury juice on his jumpsuit.
Natalya glanced at him with amusement. “Hungry?”
“They're good!” MacGyver wiped his hands with the napkin. “I could wish to eat like this more often. Sometimes, I travel so much, I feel as if I live out of vending machines.” He reached playfully for the second half of Natalya's porilainen, she twisted aside to keep it out of his hands.
“Hey! I'm still a growing boy!”
“They're too good to share, even with a friend!” Natalya danced out of his reach again. “Buy me a pastry and I'll let you have a bite.”
“Deal.”
They came to a cart festooned with Olympic flags. Trays of charms and trinkets lay in trays, and Natalya bent over them. “These are so adorable. Do you know Misha?”
“The friendship bear? Yeah, it's the official mascot for the Olympics.”
“He is also a folk legend in my country. It makes me proud when I see him.” She lightly touched one of the golden pins in the tray. “A very fitting symbol for the occasion.”
“Very fitting. But I thought it was called ‘mishka’.”
“Misha is a familiar name… er,” she searched for the right word in her mind, “a nickname. In Russia, when you call a friend's name with affection, you sometimes shorten it and add a, um… suffix to soften the sound.”
“So your friends call you… ‘Natasha’?”
“Friend and family, yes.”
“What would they call me?”
“MacGyver.” Natalya thought it over for a moment. “’Masha’. ‘Mashanka', perhaps.” She laughed at the look on his face. “Perhaps not. It does not suit you.”
“Just call me ‘Mac’. And I’ll call you…” Mac picked up one of the trinkets, the same one that she had caressed with a fingertip, and pinned it on the lapel of her tunic. “Natalie.”
Natalya smiled. “I like it. You may call me Natalie.” She covered the pin with her fingers, tracing the tiny colorful stars on its engraved belt. “Beautiful…” She saw MacGyver digging into a pocket to pay for the jewelry. “But I couldn’t accept…”
The vendor waved off MacGyver’s money. “For the lady—no charge! Free for competitors!” He pointed at their clothes; both were still clad in their Olympic jumpsuits. “Official Mascot for Olympics. Friendly Mishka!” The man spoke loudly enough so that the nearby shoppers could hear and be attracted by his patriotic generosity. “For the gentleman, also free.” He placed another pin in MacGyver’s palm. “Wear them in good health and luck!”
“Thank you.” Natalya and MacGyver chorused, stepping back as several tourists surged forward to obtain their own souvenir trinkets.
MacGyver laughed as they sauntered away. “That guy’s a real salesman!”
Natalya stroked her pin again and met MacGyver’s eyes with a soft expression. “Thank you, MacGyver. I can’t tell you how much I needed…” she hesitated, rethinking her words before adding, simply, “how much I needed your kindness.”
“I meant to be kinder, but that salesman took the wind out of my sails.” MacGyver joked, but he took her hand in his own and gave it a gentle squeeze. She didn’t let go, and they walked together for several minutes in silence.
“You ready for a real meal, now? Or are they likely to come looking for you?”
Natalya withdrew her hand suddenly, a guilty look on her face. “What do you mean? Who is looking for me?!”
MacGyver stepped back, surprised by her violent reaction. “Just that this is the first day of the Trials… I thought your coach might have given you a curfew…”
Natalya relaxed; she nearly sagged. “Oh.” MacGyver took hold of her shoulders to steady her. “I’m—I’m sorry. I—I must be tired. But yes, I do want a meal. But I absolutely must freshen up and change.” She looked toward the hotel, lost in the distance of winding streets and milling tourists. Her expression was one of reluctance. She obviously didn’t want to go back to the hotel.
“Natalie. What’s wrong?” MacGyver looked down into her face, her blue eyes almost violet as they picked up the colors of her jumpsuit.
“I—” She began, her breath catching as she fought with herself not to speak. “I’m just nervous. Please. Let’s go back to the hotel.”
MacGyver nodded, offering his hand to her again. She accepted with a grateful smile.
If anyone had any strange thoughts about seeing athletes from two different countries walking hand-in-hand, they did not voice them aloud.
~~~tbc
Everyone, sometimes, needs a camel.
Old troubleshooters never die...
They just wait til the last moment and then rescue themselves!
It's scary when you're afraid of something wrong happening.
