Stinger's hands are firmly stashed in his jacket pockets as he mentally fusses and the afternoon mist falls gently around him. Why had he been unable to pawn this duty off on someone else? A captain in service to Her Majesty should not have to play courier.

Despite how he feels, he heaves in a breath, puts on his best friendly face and tries to add a bit a jauntiness to his steps up the stairs so onlookers can't see his frumping. A sign on the doorbell says out of order, so he knocks and wonders how hard it would be to fix it.

When the door opens, he's greeted by bespectacled curious eyes on a round face framed by a wild mop of curly hair. She looks like she was in the middle of getting dressed up for some occasion. In a thick Russian accent the woman asks, "May I help you?"

"Aye. May I speak with Mrs. Jones? I have a message from her daughter," he doffs his cap and requests as politely as a gruff old soldier can muster, hoping that he'll be invited in out of the unseasonably chilly dampness.

She motions him in and hollers almost at the top of her lungs, "Aleksa! There's a man here about Jupiter!" Turning to him she assures, "She'll be right down."

As Stinger fidgets with his hat in front of him in the uncomfortable moment, the lady unguardedly decides to broach the obvious, "So how do you know our Jupiter?"

"I… work with her." He tries to keep it simple. Her Majesty hadn't informed her family yet of her change in status. Damn, it's going to be hard to tell the truth and hide this all.

The woman looking up at him but through the bottom of her glasses - gives him 'the eye'. She clearly has doubts about his statement. "In what capacity? We weren't aware Jupiter had a second job."

He just shrugs — the universal sign for her to read it how she wants.

The clomping of high heels signals Aleksa's hurried entrance and the worried look on her face makes him wish he'd phrased the request differently or that Mrs. Jones had answered the door herself so she could be spared the momentary fright.

Gripping his hat tighter at the sight of Her Majesty's mother all dressed up and her long hair swinging as she turns the corner, he stammers, "M'am, her m...Miss Jupiter requested that I let you know she's fine but'll be delayed a few days. The nature of her job prohibits her from bein' in direct contact with you until it's done."

Piping up, the shorter lady rolls her eyes and mutters in Russian, "He says he works with her. Not sure I believe him. But at least he's not bad to look at. Might be the only interesting part of the day."

Clearing his throat, he looks away.

Aleksa's keen mind notices but she looks like something is troubling her too. "You understood my sister?"

He meets her gaze, hoping she'll take him seriously — unlike Nino. "Ya ponyal. (I understood.)"

The curly haired woman blushes at being caught and mumbles, "I'll... finish getting ready now," and makes a beeline out of the room.

"Forgive Nino, she's rather impulsive. Come in. Tell us more." She gestures to the messy living room, clears a spot on the couch and offers the excuse, "We don't have visitors often. I'll get tea..."

"Thank you. But I'm expected elsewhere. As a parent, I understand your need to know. What I can say is that she's involved in important trade negotiations. Mum's the word." He runs his hand across his mouth as if zipping his lips. "Your daughter's a wonder, Mrs. Jones." Putting his cap back on, he opens the door and bids her farewell.

Relief floods her face. Then she connects the dots and blurts, "I… think I remember your voice. Your accent…"

Midway across the threshold he stops, caught off guard. Gathering himself he turns back with a smirk, "Wouldn't that be somethin'..."

Watching him with her hand on her hip, she's put out he dodged her and left her wondering. Aleksa Bolotnikov Jones does not let questions go unanswered. She will figure this out somehow.

He tucks his head and pulls his cap down so the short brim protects his face from the mist as he strolls briskly back to his truck.

Putting a hand on her sister's arm, Nino startles her sister from her intense glare. Aleksa exclaims, "Stallin's balls, don't sneak up on me!"

Nino's eyebrow lifts in suspicion as she pokes, "I'd bet he's a Capricorn. Taurus and Capricorn are a good match you know."

But Aleksa pshaws her sister for the assumption and for listening in, "I doubt we'll see him again." As she puts her other earring in, she prompts, "Ready?"