(no subject)

[photographs_well]

Liz could hardly be more relieved to see her door to Milliways appear.

Someone who happened to look might see the pouring rain she's leaving behind as she shuts her door behind her; otherwise, the same conclusion might be drawn from Liz's appearance. She carries a wilted umbrella in one hand, the other hand tucked into her coat, where she has hunched protectively over her camera. She tosses the umbrella aside, pulls off her sodden hat and does the same, then carefully pulls out the camera and sets to looking it over to make sure it has come through its ordeal unscathed.

Comments

[inatownlikethis]

"...Bad weather in the East?" At least that's something you can't complain about in Hadleyville. Not much need for an umbrella.

Helen makes her way over, and rescues the hat, which doesn't deserve to sit damply out of shape.

[photographs_well]

"Just a touch," Liz says. She carefully sets the camera down on the bar. "No harm done, at least."

[inatownlikethis]

"Good." She does a preliminary job of blocking the hat, absent-minded, while leaning in to look at the camera. "Oh, you're wet through. Were you working?" Hard to imagine getting any good society pictures in that kind of weather

[photographs_well]

"I was meant to be." She shrugs off her jacket. "But you can only be assured 'it'll let up any minute now' before you start to get a little skeptical of that person's forecast abilities."

She shoves a bit of hair out of her face and says, an unaccustomed edge of frustration cracking through, "You know how men get. We're here to do this job, so we'll do it, even when it doesn't make sense anymore."

[inatownlikethis]

Helen takes up the jacket, too, about to drape it over the back of a chair, and then shakes her head. "What were you supposed to be taking pictures of? And why don't you come up to my room to dry off?"

[photographs_well]

"A party," Liz says. "Or, more accurately, people leaving a party, but-- they wisely decided to linger indoors until the rain stopped. She realizes that Helen has gathered up her discarded hat and coat and says quickly, holding out her hand, "Oh, thank you, you really don't-- let me take that, you'll get your dress wet."

[inatownlikethis]

Helen shrugs, but hands over the jacket. "Smart of them. --Come on. You don't need to stay wet, anyway. Do you have another dress here?"

Maybe it would be safe to leave the hat and jacket near the fireplace? No, better not. Helen's noticed a lot of things going missing around the bar lately.

[photographs_well]

"I don't," she says, looking regretfully down at herself. "The Bar will give you things like that, won't she?"

[inatownlikethis]

"I suppose. I've never asked her for clothing... You can borrow my dressing-gown, if you want?"

She studies the hat, shaking her head a little, but it's probably salvageable. "Ask the bar, then come up to my room? I'll make coffee."

[photographs_well]

"You're awfully kind," Liz says. "It's no trouble? I don't want to drip and be a pain."

[inatownlikethis]

Helen just laughs at her. "Do you think I invite people to my room if I don't want to? Go on, ask Bar. I'll wait for you."

[photographs_well]

Liz laughs. "No, I'm sure you don't. Right, then, I'll just be a moment."

[inatownlikethis]

Invite people to my room... A glance from Liz's wet footsteps to the snowscape out the window develops the little seed of an idea; Helen steps up to join her at the bar, and touches her elbow. "Wait. Would you like to really visit? Ask Bar for something you could wear in New Mexico?"

It's probably a silly idea, but--?

[photographs_well]

Liz looks surprised. "--what, really?" Well, the desert never seemed more appealing, with pouring rain on one side of the door and snow on the other. "Just ask? And she'll know what I mean, you think?"

[inatownlikethis]

Helen shrugs and leans over to talk to the bar. "My friend would like to borrow something to wear in the New Mexico Territory. 1898." Worth a try?

[photographs_well]

And there it is-- or at least there something is, a tidy pile on the bar. Liz picks it up and sets down her camera in exchange. "Hold onto this for me, won't you?"

[inatownlikethis]

"Let me think--it should be safe to just go straight to my room in the hotel. No one is in there to see you, before you change your dress." Of course, if they go anywhere at all, they'll probably have to explain how a visitor from out of town appeared in Hadleyville unnoticed by anyone--well, they'll work it out. "Shall we?"

[photographs_well]

Liz adjusts the bundle of clothes in her arms, and nods. "Yes, let's."

She half expects this not to work, as she follows Helen towards her door. Surely people can't just come and go into other people's worlds and times like that?

[inatownlikethis]

But they can! At least--Helen opens the door and ushers Liz through to a spacious and pleasantly-furnished room with no electric lights, no waitrats, no vampires or werewolves.

Once they're in, she bustles over to the room door and checks that it's locked: no interruptions. "Now. If anyone asks, you came up by the back stairs. And you came in--hm--you got a ride from a farmer from--Agua Fria." Hadn't some people from there come through recently? "--But only if anyone asks."

[photographs_well]

So they can! Liz steps through slowly. It looks just like in movies, or pictures in books, except-- real.

"Agua Fria," she echoes absently. She's from Minnesota, forgive her pronunciation.

Then, remembering her manners, she says, "This is where you live? It's very nice."

[inatownlikethis]

"It's all right." She's still moving around the room, looking out the windows; she seems to catch herself, and laughs. "I can never really believe it, that no time passes here. But it's true, isn't it? --Here, let me help you." It looks like Bar didn't get too elaborate with the dress, but it's still awfully structured, compared to what Liz has on.

"--Welcome to New Mexico."

[photographs_well]

Liz can't help but laugh. "Well... thanks."

She kicks off her shoes first, and shrugs off her jacket. "This all looks rather elaborate."

[inatownlikethis]

"It's not so bad." She's laying out the elements on the bed. "Start here..."

[photographs_well]

The various elements aren't completely unrecognizable, now that Liz takes a closer look. With Helen's help, she manages to get herself appropriately laced and buttoned.

"My hair-- is it alright?"

[inatownlikethis]

Buttons, laces, hooks, clasps--and yes, hair. Helen looks it over. "Still a little wet from the rain. --Do you mind if I braid it?"

[photographs_well]

"No, not at all." It's half-unpinned and flattened from the rain anyway. She pulls out the rest of the pins and gives it a shake: thick and dark and loosely curly, not quite as long as women of Helen's time wear it, but falling just past her shoulders even so.

[inatownlikethis]

Helen makes a little pile of the pins plus a few of her own, and sets to work combing and twisting and braiding and re-pinning. She has rather a firm hand at the work. "After all this work, I am afraid you will be disappointed. It isn't much of a town. A saloon, a hotel. A livery. A marshal and a deputy."

[photographs_well]

"You're joking, I'm sure," Liz says. She's quite good at keeping still. "I've never been west of Minneapolis. You can show me some scrubby old tree and I'll be thrilled."