[b]March 18th, 1997[/b]

[hr]

The golden trickle of honey sank right to the bottom of the adorned glass, an intricate silver coating adorning the cup where it was being poured. A lazily dragged spoon followed soon after, as is the feminine hand reveled in how intricate the glass was, and tried to milk the moment for all its worth. The manicured nails tapped on the table slightly, as the cup was then dragged to an adorned mouth, lipstick lingering on the top of the glass after the deed was done.

She scoffed for a second, before doubling down on the honey. The tea was unbelievable strong, she felt like she could even chew the leaves if she so desired. She eyed her surroundings, the kitchen of a small tea-shop in the middle of Little Armenia, a rather unimpressive, if very boorish presentation. The Russian woman adjusting her sitting in the creaking chair as inquisitive grey eyes peeking though a wavy blonde mop of hair, towards her host.

[i]The tea is strong. He wants to butter me up, despite being dragged to a rather out-of-the-way kitchen[/i] Vera quickly pieced together as she offered a thin smile. "This tea is nice, Davit". She answered, crossing her legs to shift her position. A burly man with an impressive moustache moved his bushy eyebrows in acknowledgment as she went on. "You really must want that favour from me." She smile and she tilted her head.

"Well, yes. Those Korean upstarts are trying to set up a meeting with our boss. But I can see that nasty glint of ambition in their eyes." Davit sighed, as he rubbed his temple. "Better a friendly reminder that we have good friends, no? Abram doesn't need to know about this." Vera tilted her head upon the remark. 

"True, Abram isn't the sharpest tool in the box. A good blunt instrument. But not what it is required to make new friends." The former Russian KGB operative confessed to the Armenian. She rubbed her temples. "I think I can excuse two or three, no more. Abram will get suspicious if he finds many of my girls, including myself, missing. Puppeteering people is never easy." She confessed, acknowledging the inviolability of Davit's inner sanctum.

"Honeytraps?" The Armenian asked. 

"If I told you, what fun would there be on it? Be glad I am not sending armed people." Vera said, as she finished her tea with a strong gulp. "Most of the armed people are on the prowl of those black american bold little pups. And now there's the cop kills cop situation. Not a good time to strongarm [i]anyone[/i]" She added, as she raised from the table to her full height. "But these Koreans seem definitely interesting. I want to see what kind of [i]kimchi[/i] do they really make." 

The Armenian man, as if upon cue, raised from the table. "Well, I guess this is it, then." He extended his hand in a handshake. Callous and scarred, was met with the pale feminine one of the woman. "This meeting never happened." He added, a cocky grin lifting his moustache slightly. "Just like old times, [i]Spider[/i]." He made a remark. "Don't you miss it? I still keep my cyanide pills in my desk, you know."

"Davit, I don't miss being nearly killed more times than I care to count. All I want is a cozy place to fatten myself up and live the rest of my days. That has gotten tricky as of late, [i]Fox[/i]." She added, crossing her arms across her chest. The man grabbed her coat, made of splendid fur that would make PETA activists flare up with rage, and offered it to her. "Thanks."

"Nonsense. We both know ... that people like us can't really quit. We're too far gone." The Armenian said solemnly as she went towards the back door.

"See you soon, then Davit." The woman announced, clacking her heels in an almost catlike walk.

"See you, Vivi."