Raising his head, he nodding and stretching his lanky arms above his head; crackles of joints following the movements. Arms swinging down to his sides, the Russian turned on the heel of his boot towards one of the closer tables; eyeing any of the other customers that dared stay near the table. Seating himself, he stretched out his long legs with a sigh.<br/><br/>"Th'nks, doll," he murmured; long fingers wrapping about the cup in an almost automatically-protective manner. Glancing the girl's way, he tapped a nail against the cup briefly in consideration. Finding his voice, he made his decision. "'ey. Vhy d'n't ya' t'ke a br'k an' s't dov'n?" he inquired; voice loud enough to attract attention, but quiet enough not to startle anyone- well, not too much, at least.