When all that I've known is lost and found

[chesspolitik]

As Anatoly very carefully made his way through the well-worn path, he thought that Cassie would be rather proud if she knew he was actually out of his hut. She might be less pleased if she knew he was a shade drunk, but that was neither here or there. The important thing was that he was out, actively seeking company from a real person and not the vodka.

He paused in front of Roger's door, suddenly feeling a little anxious. What if he wasn't there? What if he was? The truth was that social situations left him uneasy, something that he hadn't properly realized until now. At home, Molokov had controlled every situation and often given him talking points. Here, he'd allowed Lex to do much the same. Now he had neither and he was realizing this had to change if he wanted to have friends at all.

Screwing his courage to the sticking place, he raised his fist and knocked. "Roger?"