that is the best remedy for any- and everything~

made a few extra cups, just in case anybody'd like to spend it with her. Surely not everybody was going to the party...

that she doesn't mind him suddenly just dropping by...the twenty-fifth of December isn't much of a celebratory day for him.

the strangest notion that somebody would drop by - they were welcome, of course; or the extra chocolate would congeal. Wouldn't want any

wasted... and particularly not today...
Christmas wasn't exactly a very happy sort of day for her. Long story shortened.

stands at her door, hand poised to knock, when a rush of reluctance hits him. Would she think of him as impolite for showing up out of the

blue? They had briefly mentioned of a similar (or the same) history, but just how much of it overlaps he is unsure. But he is already here

so he might as well knock, which he does so with waning encouragement. Besides, she could have gone to the party for all he knows, leaving

him to carry out today alone...again...

keeps her mug back on the plate - it clacks loudly. Did it echo? The house was full of soft, fluffy, noise-absorbing things... not quite so

empty, was it?
Would there be anybody at all who would spend today at home, too? She knew Alice and Marianne were... what about her other

self? She wondered whether this day was a happy one for him, or a sad one, or both.

waits for a response, and tries not to sag when he isn't given one. He knocks again, this time louder than the last, just in case she didn't

hear him before...or perhaps he's just trying to make himself feel better by still thinking that she'd be home. If there is still no

answer this time, he really will just leave.

sits up. Was that a knock? She places her mug on the side table and pads towards the door. So she'd just thought of somebody dropping by,

and here somebody was. Maybe she should try that more often...
She peered through the peephole and immediately unlocked and opened the door.

So maybe Ivan too wasn't feeling so well - perhaps they were closer than she'd thought they were. "Ivan," she said, smiling. He probably

liked hot chocolate, too. And warm food. She wondered how long he'd been standing there - it was no season for enjoying the weather.

"Come right in," she said. "You must be frozen through!" His nose was pale - the way hers turned when the wind blew cold.

pushes his ear as close to the door as possible without having to touch it, trying to hear if there are any sounds from within, and finds

his spirits being lifted by the soft padding sounds that passes through the door. "Anya," he greets, stepping into her house at her offer.

"Not long, really..." He stands at the entrance, suddenly feeling slightly awkward, and gently touches his nose. "It's alright; I am not

affected much by the cold." He wonders if she's the same, and idly notes the smell of hot chocolate wafting around.

walks back into the house, going into the kitchen to pour another mug of chocolate. "Shut the door behind you," she says, feeling happier.

She pours two mugs, since her own was running low, and took them to the living room. Hopefully Ivan had made himself comfortable there...

Though she couldn't say it was completely unexpected, she felt like they shared more than she'd thought they did. Maybe they could talk

about it - or because it could be a sore topic for both of them, they needn't ever go close to it, and they'd know where to stop.

does as told, closing the door with a soft click as he follows her deeper inside her house. Standing in what he deems to be the living

room, he takes the time in which she goes to fetch whatever it is that she's fetching to look around, and finds the interior much

more...comforting than his own, for some reason that he can't quite fathom. He moves over to the sofa, not wanting to touch or disturb

anything, and waits for her to return. It does not seem as if she is put off by his presence, and for that alone, he is thankful...he just

that he did not come at a bad time, which (he has a feeling) this day could be the same for the both of them.

hands him a mug, and seats herself on the couch opposite. He couldn't have come at a better time - she wasn't sure what she should have done

if somebody else had dropped by - even one she had good relations with - and she was quite sure she should've collapsed if she'd been alone.

She blew the steam from her mug - the chocolate was still scalding inside the vacuum flask! - and sipped, watching Ivan all the while.

accepts the offered cup of hot chocolate (he could smell it from a mile away) with a soft whisper of thanks, blowing across the surface

first before he took a gentle sip. He can feel her gaze focussed on him, and he takes another - larger - gulp of the warm liquid. "I

apologize for not giving any notice for my unexpected visit," he says, not exactly sure where else he should start from. "Christmas...or

rather, the twenty-fifth of December, isn't exactly the...the best of days for me."

nodded, averting her eyes. He must feel uncomfortable. "That is fine," she said. "You're always welcome here." She chuckled quietly. "It is

your house, in a way."
Another sip of the chocolate - it was cooling now. "It wouldn't be correct to say it's a good day for me, either..."

She could remember that day clearly, even if it were twenty years ago. It hadn't been very... violent... but she'd had her family wrenched

away from her. Her reputation shattered, her strength buckled, her world temporarily blurred from view. It hadn't been pleasant, but she'd

long since learnt how to numb things...

occupies any spare moment of awkwardness that settles between them with the introduction of the new topic by gently tapping his fingers

against the mug. "Then I hope you will feel the same about my home, da?" He offers her a slight smile, shoulders tensing for a slight moment

as he forces himself to bring the cup back up to his lips. "I see...then, would it be presumptuous of me to chance that...that we went

through the same...ordeal...?" He shifts around a bit, remaining as vague about this whole thing as he possible could. It's a tender

issue (twenty years...not long at all for a nation), and he doesn't want to bring all the memories back in an instant.

shakes her head. "Same story," she says, looking down into her cup. She takes another sip, then looks up. Chocolate was good for forgetting,

strangely enough.
And for his first question: maybe. It was tough to say. It probably wouldn't have so many small soft knickknacks lying

around, though she was quite sure there'd be a well-tended patch of sunflowers beaming at her if she looked through the back window.
She

looked at him again, and realized he was a little uncomfortable. It was an uncomfortable topic.
"So," she started, "where do you stand?"

This seemed a bit insufficient, so she added, "With the elections, that is." She was personally puzzled with this game of chess - she could

deal with eccentric rulers, people who had just the slightest touch of both madness and genius. All this background noise seemed unnecessary

though there was the slightest bit of irony she could sense - for a breach of one of the strongest pillars of democracy, the response

plainly displayed one of most positive developments of democracy itself. *Checkmate,* after a fashion.