When she re-entered the shop with Napoleon they found the Russian sorting through racks of dresses like he owned the place. Watching him select women's clothing with such ease, Gaby wondered if he had come from money, or if the knowledge was part of his KGB training. Or maybe he had a rich girlfriend back in Moscow? Chuckling to herself at the thought, Gaby slipped passed the two men who had begun to bicker over various clothing choices for her. For once she decided she would be assertive, find something she thought looked fun and just wear it. There were so many clothes in the back room. There was a sales clerk, only slightly taller than her and about the same age with blond hair. She deftly pulled out an orange and cream outfit that looked much more to Gaby's taste. Shooting a thankful smile at the clerk Gaby quickly pulled on the outfit spending a swift moment to observe her reflection she heard the two men arguing over some clothing related nonsense. Taking a deep breath she stepped out and walked forward towards Napoleon and their new Russian partner. She attempted her most careless voice and said: "Did you see the price of this handbag? It costs more than my car." To her satisfaction, the Russian man couldn't take his eyes off of her. Not bothering to hide his appreciation, the KGB man looked her over intently and then turned to Napoleon and in his thick Russian accent said "you can get back on your horse cowboy". Despite herself Gaby was impressed by the Russian's ability to sweep Napoleon out the door so quickly and effectively. Admiration quickly faded to aggravation as she realized that Mr. KGB had no intention of leaving her to herself once Napoleon had departed.
Without warning he took hold of her hand. His hands were cold, even for a Russian and Gaby felt her hands flinch as his enormous hand confidently grasped her fingers, holding them in place, and slipped an intricate, expensive and beautifully fashioned diamond ring on her ring finger. "Now we are engaged, congratulations" he told her, passively, as if he regularly bestowed the title of Mrs. KGB on women he just met.
It didn't take long for them to finish selecting Gaby's wardrobe. Agent Kuryakin took charge making the purchases and arranging to have them taken to their hotel. Gaby used the distraction to slip outside for a few moments of alone time. Outside the sun was shining and glinting off the store windows, the clean, bright look of her surroundings contrasted strongly with the gloom of East Berlin. Strolling just a few yards down the street she spotted a small park with a fountain. Surrounded by small, trees overhead, bright red, yellow, and blue flowers, the fountain was lined in an aqua color, full of blazing orange goldfish. Gaby had never seen anything so exotic or so beautiful. After staring for some moments into the water watching the fish gliding through the water she noticed a shadow fall over her them. Sighing in resignation she turned to face the Russian.
It was warm hazel eyes that she found herself staring into rather than the iron blue eyes she had been expecting. The man was probably early twenty's, right around her age with a friendly smile. Noticeably taller than she was, and yet he did not tower over her like the Russian agent did. "Do you come her often?" he asked in a distinctly American accent. "No, I'm only visiting here, I've never seen this place before." Gaby replied trying not to gape at him. "Or anything like it" she added. It's a lovely place to have some quiet" he responded sitting down on the edge of the fountain. "I come here often to work on my schoolwork, it beats spending the day at hard desk or sitting on the floor in my apartment. He pulled out a small bag of fish seed from the pocket in his jacket which looked well made and well used. "So you go to university? She asked, desperately wishing she had something intelligent or vastly amusing to say. "Yes, I'm studying mechanics, I grew up working on cars and now I want to build planes". The young man was so obviously American and yet so different from Napoleon. His voice and whole expression radiated unending optimism, and yet he didn't seem overconfident or full of himself, he couldn't be upper class. He had grown up working and was pursing his passion by educating himself. After he introduced himself as James, Gaby told him her name was Sarah. He offered her some of the fish food pellets he had taken from his pocket. For a few golden minutes Gaby found herself wishing she could just be Sarah, feeding fish with a handsome American stranger, waiting to see where the day would take her. That was not to be her fate. Unnoticed by James or Sarah another shadow fell over both of them. They both continued to talk as if they had known each other their entire lives while a tall figure stood behind them as if made of stone. Watching. After a moment Gaby felt as if they were not alone and turned to find the Russian agent standing a few feet behind them, his face was a study. There was no telling if he was indifferent, annoyed, offended, or perhaps a good mixture of all three. Instead of staring at her this time, she found his icy gaze directed at the back of James' head. "Well it's not as if he could be jealous" she thought to herself taking one last look at the fish swimming in sweet oblivion. "Are you ready to go?" She heard him ask. James had not noticed the tall Russian staring holes into the back of his head and started a little when he heard the thick Russian accent. "Yes dear" she responded as brightly as she could, trying to look more excited to be with her fiancé than she was to talk with a random university student from America. "It was nice to meet you James" she said turning to him as she stood. "Thank you for the company, and the fish food." "Anytime, Sarah" he said "look me up if you are ever in town again, I'd love to see you. Maybe we'll work on some cars together" he added with a cheeky grin and a wink. Something in the last part of his goodbye seemed to awaken the Russian statue. Gaby couldn't tell if it was the suggestion of working together on cars, or his winking at her but in seconds her hand was clasped in a cold iron grip and she was being led away at a brisk pace. Wanting to dare a glance back and yet not wanting to further provoke the large man pulling her along, she instead turned to him and asked why he didn't introduce himself to James. "Hmph! American men too familiar with other man's woman" he grumbled "you obviously engaged, still he flirt with you, in front of fiancé, maybe husband for all he know. If you were my woman for real, he wish I ignore him after such, such…" "putting the moves?" Gaby suggested, recalling a phrase she had heard Napoleon use regarding his own escapades. "Yes" he snapped "putting the moves, I would not permit". Giving her a pointed look to dismiss the topic he began to discuss the basics of their cover and ask her mission related questions about her uncle. "Unbelievable" she thought "the man is defensive of his cover honor and jealous over his fake fiancé!" Gaby rolled her eyes and tried not to show how absurd she found his behavior to be.