Allen was uncomfortable. He was wearing a suit. The two things were not related.
Allen was at a soiree in Boston, officially he was there as a "discreet bodyguard," of the government officials in attendance. Unofficially he was there because his commanding officer, Francis Marion, thought he needed to relax.
"Relax, Agent Marks." Marion said, sipping from the ornate glass of scotch, likely made within the first decade of scotch's invention.
"Yes, sir" Agent Marks said, sipping at a club soda likely bought at the mini mart across the street.
"It's a party, Agent Marks. Relax, mingle, make a new friend or two" Marion
Suggested.
"I fail to see the point, Sir." Agent Marks said with a glower.
"The point, Agent Marks, is to learn to enjoy the world you're defending. I've got plenty of suicidal workaholics, I'd like at least one success story."
"You seem to be doing well for yourself, sir." Agent Marks mumbled.
"Agent Marks," Marion was ready to start scolding his protégé, fortunately for someone he spotted an old friend in the crowd. "Brighten up, district attorney incoming." Marion warned.
"Mr. Marion," A loud boisterous man called out."
"Carlson, old friend." Marion said clasping the DA's hand.
"It's good to see you again." Carlson crowed releasing Marion's hand.
"Yes it is, may I introduce my protégé," Marion motioned at Marks, "Mr. Allen Marks."
"Carlson turned to face Allen.
"It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Carlson." Allen said with a wide and genuine smile. "Truly, Mr. Marion speaks the world of you." This was the first time he had so much as heard the name.
"You're a good liar, Mr. Marks." Carlson said with a throaty chuckle, "Marion wouldn't speak well of his wife."
"A testament to your character, sir." Allen said, obeying the first law of flattery - commit
"You taught him well, Marion."
"Well enough, old friend."
"Well," Carlson said, sipping from his drink, "While we're introducing protégés, allow me to introduce my own, Miss Nora…" Carlson trailed off, realizing that the person he was referring to was not, in fact, behind him. "I'll introduce you two later," He dismissed the immediate idea with a wave of his hand. "Marion there's a matter I'd like to discuss with you."
"Of course. Allen, stay put and enjoy the party." Marion ordered before walking off with Carlson.
"Yes sir." Allen responded, resolving to obey only the first order.
At least until he was bumped into.
"Sorry," the new voice said. "I thought I heard my name and I came running."
"Allen turned to face the new arrival and was struck dumb. Agent Marks was a little ashamed of himself, he was trained to react correctly and quickly to all situations. Allen on the other hand was stuck thinking "woah."
"Hi there," The new arrival said, reaching a hand out to shake "I'm Nora, Nora Taylor."
Nora Taylor was an attractive individual, there was no doubt about that. Nora was a little shorter than Allen but carried herself with twice the authority, she had hazel eyes, rose red hair worn in what can only be described as a formal ponytail.
It certainly helped that she was dressed to kill.
She was wearing a black dress outlined with trimming the same color as her hair and a large ornamental flower on the hip. It was a simple dress, but Agent Marks had seen femme fatale assassins less appealing.
Agent Marks realized that he should say something, but unfortunately Allen was still running the show, so a few things got lost in translation.
"Technically the message sent was, "Would you like to dance?"
Unfortunately, the individual syllables that came out of Allen's mouth were "Khotite potantsevat'" Which was the same message in Russian.
Nora (God bless her heart) didn't skip a beat and responded with "ya khotel by chto," Which meant "I'd like that."
Now Allen was a bit stuck, he could either pretend to be Russian for the rest of the evening or he could admit to having panicked and try to explain himself.
After a pleasant few hours discussing Russian politics, sports, current events, and music (yes, both Allen and Nora knew plenty about it all). The pair bumped into their employers.
"Miss Taylor, I see you've made a new friend." Carlson praised with his patented booming voice. Nora smiled and shrugged.
"And Agent Marks, I see you decided to follow my orders." Marion observed with a sly grin.
"I live to serve," Allen grumbled.
Hearing Allen speak english forced Nora to do a double take.
"Wait, you're not Russian?"
"Of course he's not, why would you think that?" Marion asked, raising an eyebrow.
"He asked me to dance and it was in Russian so I assumed…" Nora trailed off as all eyes turned to Allen.
"I panicked." He said sulking.
"Just to clarify," Marion said as Carlson was holding back laughter. "You are one of the lines of defense of our nation, correct."
"I've been told as much, sir."
"Our nation is doomed." Marion exclaimed, only half joking, as Carlson lost control and started roaring with laughter.
"Come on, old friend," Carlson said between great big belly laughs, "Let's give these two some time to reintroduce themselves."
The friends walked off, leaving Allen and Nora in quite the situation. Allen turned to Nora and held out his hand.
"Allen, my name is Allen Marks."
"Well then, Allen," Nora said shaking his hand, "I think you owe me a dinner for your behavior tonight."
"I think I can do that." Allen responded with a grin. "I know this wonderful Russian place downtown."
Nora smiled and Allen's heart fluttered, the two things were related.
"I prefer Italian."