Hot Dog Day

A hard day's night

Knock knock.

Blake looked up from the objects strewn in front of them. They were trying to find a solution on their own, but anything electrical and 'modern' like Max's ancient AC had still been too fancy for his upbringing, and he didn't have much input to give.

From the opposite side of the glass, salt and pepper hair tousled (with just some paprika left) and a fierce scowl on her face, Red was staring in.

"Here they come..."

Knock knock knock knock.

McCullough let her in before the peaceful slumber of the others was disturbed.

"Жарко," she sentenced.

"Er..." the COs exchanged a glance. "What?"

"Жарко," she repeated, "слишком жарко!" gesturing at the outside, where she came from.

"OK Reznikov, sit here," said McCullough, guiding her to a chair.

"...тьфу," her lips pursed unimpressed. "Slish-kom zhar-ko!" she articulated again, slowly; then she seemed to be looking for something in her mind, and finally she brightened, as she had dug it up - "Hot!"

"Ah! Yeah, right," Blake smiled happily; the two women glowered, and he immediately turned grave. "I mean, er, yes, I know it's hot. We are trying to fix it," he assured, motioning to the tools all around them.

"...yes, I see," Red said in a more-heavily-accented-than-usual voice; and more accusing, too.

When McCullough went out to check the AC panel, Red offered her expertise. "I know factory work," she stated conclusively. That was what she had been doing for years in Russia after all; boring, but maybe useful.

And when they were out of earshot, she whispered to the guard, "He is a sweet boy, but good for nothing, just like Dmitri." Then they got to their destination and McCullough positioned the ladder; Red started passing her the appropriate tools; then she froze, and stopped, brows knit in concentration. "Now I'm not sure... on Dmitri," she looked up at the younger woman, who turned and looked back. "What do you say? Should I marry him?"

_____________________

Early breakfast in Florida

Between the three of them, they still could not fix it.

Nor could the other guards, called in from other parts of the prison to aid.

Meanwhile more inmates started waking up sooner than expected, and the whole B-Block's schedule was messed up.

Contacted by phone, Warden Hellman wasn't exactly ecstatic.

"The hell is it now?" he barked.

And then "NO WAY. No calling maintenance till Monday. You think Linda gives me extra bucks for your fucks up on a holiday?"

And finally "I'm off today, you sort it out. And don't let the old pussies croak, or you'll do the paperwork."

So they were left to their own devices.

Breakfast had been moved on, and plans to distribute the block's residents among C and D had been made, while the guards on duty continued trying to find a way to repair the AC.

Two of them were at the control panel again.

"Maybe she can make it," Lorna uttered vaguely, face turned in their general direction.