Imma Just Going To Spend WAY TOO MUCH Time Sighing And Staring At That Middle Gif. 😭

Sergei doesn't get a lot of screentime (but all that time with those shithead Stevens brothers?!), but we do get a few diamonds in that short time. Smug Sergei is a definite gem that I love.

Lovingly adoring Margo in an Elevator (3x03)

Drunk Sergei (2x06)

Smug Sergei (2x06, 3x06)

Feisty Sergei (2x07, 2x10)

EVERYTHING ELSE

Sergei + being a smug bastard (complimentary)

I recently rewatched THE scene from "Brazil" and was struck by how sad and resigned they both were. This "palate cleanser" of a fic under the cut is an interpretation of that scene. I've tried to lift their soul crushing sorrow a little (or made it worse?). My media literacy has grown so much reading fiction and analysis, but I'm just dabbling here. I got the urge to play a bit as I am not a creative writer (especially of the quality within FAM fandom-y'all rule).

(And a warning; Google translated Russian contained below!)

Sergei observed that there was a brief moment when Margo's gaze turned inwards to consider his gambit to escape Irina and the KGB that his spirit lifted. She was letting the idea take center focus. He didn't know if his heart would fare better with the limbo of her pause, or the finality of her answer. When her eyes fell to her hands and then back up to meet his gaze, his spirit fell back to Earth. He met eyes filled with regret.

Sergei knew then that they would never have more than what they’d had in the past. They were in the past. Unable to keep the disappointment off his face, his features soon matched hers. Resignation banished any further thought of Brazil.

They would never get the dream of blueprints over a shared kitchen table. Of kisses freely shared over clasped hands. Of working together on their shared passion. It was all beyond their capacity to realize.

He watched as her eyes wetted with unshared tears. Wanting to spare her the pain of explaining what he knew she felt she needed to do, he reached forward to cover her hand with his. She had learned too well in Moscow how tenuous matters were. He let the dream fade and focused on the present moment. They only shared the comfort of moments over their long association, and if this was to be the last, he was going to make it count.

When her hand rested on his and she returned his smile with her own half smothered version he stood up and tugged on her hand to do the same.

With only a brief hesitation she climbed to her feet. Margo wouldn’t meet his eyes at first, so he gently nudged her chin up with his hand. His heart ached in his chest but it would not fail, encouraged by the softness of her skin and her gaze as she met his eye. They always did seem to be on the same page.

He brushed along the curl of her hair, enjoying the feeling of her closeness. Taking a beat he nodded and pulled her into an embrace. She folded into his arms with a soft exhale. Having her in his arms again was almost too much after so long, but he couldn't help but feel lighter and a bit more whole. They both reacquainted each other with the warmth of their embrace. With a tightening of his hold on her, Sergei dared to push a little more.

“я бы хотел, чтобы ты меня поцеловал,” he said quietly into her ear.

Margo flushed brilliantly and closed her eyes. She eased back from him and shook her head at his incorrigible nature. A small smile flitted across her face. Sergei’s own smile quivered as he watched her face transform.

Opening her eyes, she brought one hand to his chest and the other to stroke his cheek. He leant into her cool hand. He felt his spirit soar higher and with Margo’s soft sigh, he knew she was lifted too.

Margo leant forward and pressed her lips to his. If this was their last moment, it would be a good one.

What began as a soft press of their lips deepened as they wrapped their arms around each other. Echoing so many earlier moments, it was over before they were able to get started.

Margo pulled away with a final caress of his cheek, and she turned back to the work on the table. Not ready to move from this moment just yet, Sergei's hand drifted up to rest on the nape of her neck, his thumb caressing her skin. Margo exhaled softly and reached up to rest her own hand upon his, gently squeezing his fingers. Sergei quirked a smile before stepping closer, gently pressing a kiss to the side of her head.

They both heard Aleida bustling through the house, coming back to the kitchen. With a final caress of her neck, Sergei sat heavily back at the table and gazed up at Margo as she busied herself collecting her papers. Margo was always the strong one.

His eyes took their fill of her, as his hands lay uselessly on the table, longing to hold her.

Aleida entered the kitchen ending their time together, “Are we done here?”

“Enough… for tonight,” Margo replied. Sergei dropped his gaze to his hands just as Margo reached over and nudged him. “We’ll speak again soon, yes?” Her eyes searched his.

“Yes… of course, Margo. Yes.” Was his hoarse reply.

One thing I think a lot about is how, as precious as the handhold was, we weren't shown Sergei and Margo's actual goodbye moment when she left Aleida's house in S4E9. I continue to hold out some hope that we may see this as a flashback in the next season (although if we do I'm sure it will kill me dead). But if we never see this scene, then we can continue believing it included whatever we want, yes? I desperately want at least one, if not both, of them to have said "I love you." I go back and forth about whether or not that would be in character. However, I've decided that the most emotionally devastating possibility is Sergei saying to Margo, "I would like you to kiss me." In Russian. And then it would break my heart if she didn't and break my heart even more if she did.

I don't remember this scene AT ALL, but by golly they clearly needed the time to eye-fuck each other a little. Why, show, why?!?!

"THANK YOU FOR COMING"

As if, Margo, he would stay away.

Thank you for coming. Oh. Of course.

Same, fam. Same. 😩

Margo/Sergei + S4 routine

“You cannot go back there, Margo.”

Margo shifted on her feet. The life raft she had built to survive eight long years in the Soviet Union was quickly revealing itself to be not quite seaworthy.

Each revelation surged a wave that threatened to overwhelm her raft–the disdain of the people at NASA, the reveal of Irina’s mechanizations throughout both their lives, Sergei’s presence in Houston, and damn him, the care he offered her in his steadfast gaze.

This raft she built of necessity was based only on the work–her love of space and engineering. Now in Houston with Sergei standing in front of her it was laughable to think she could survive based only upon it. But then, back in the Soviet Union, that’s all she had. For eight years she subsisted on dreams of space alone, and finally, things began to change and she got to realize her dream only for it to all crash– Margo began to waver on her feet as she made new calculations about her life.

“Margo,” Sergei exhaled as he started forward, his hands outstretched to grasp her arms and steady her. Disheartened, she let him comfort her. She felt distinct and utterly unsalvageable ruptures form in her raft.

Margo wanted to break eye contact with him, to look anywhere else but she was as starved for him as she was for the rest of it. She tried to steady her breathing and recenter herself to work her newest and thorniest of problems.

She was as yet torn between wanting to cry, puke or laugh at what she had misunderstood yet again. Breaking through her racing thoughts were Sergei’s warm hands rubbing reassuringly on her forearms. She sighed and he released some breath of his own. She nodded and his hands drifted down to hold her hands. His eyes darkened from concern to a deeper longing.

“Please, Margo, come sit with me.” Sergei gestured with a jut of his head toward his car.

She nodded quickly and briefly tightened her own hold on him as he ushered her to the passenger seat. When he shut the car door to round the car and slide into the driver’s seat, Margo let her head drop into her hands.

“What now, Sergei?” Margo asked despondently.

“Now we find our way out,” Sergei responded firmly.

He looked her over closely; observed her gray hair, her wrist bandage, and her firmly buttoned-up presentation. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and never let her go again. God, he had missed her. He had mourned her and now here she was in his car inches away, as beautiful as ever.

Margo released another sigh and straightened, offering an exhausted default,“Sure, let’s work the problem.”

She turned slightly towards him to take a closer look at the man she had desperately tried to save. The last eight years had agreed with him and he looked as handsome as ever. Her scrutiny did not go unnoticed and he smiled warmly at her. Margo extended a hand to brush his cheek and touch his smile.

"I missed that smile,” she whispered as he turned in her grasp and kissed her palm.

Her heart thudded in her chest as he brought her hand down to intertwine with his over the console between them.

“And I missed you. Margo…” Sergei broke off, and what further he wanted to say died in his throat as they simply stared at each other.

Margo broke eye contact and pulled her hands away, trying to reign in her emotions and run-away thoughts. Without her raft, she was in danger of saying and doing things she knew she couldn't afford to embrace.

“I'm here to help capture an asteroid and usher in a new age for life on Earth,” she said with growing determination. “We will succeed. Nothing can jeopardize that.”

Sergei turned in his seat to face her straight on. Nonplussed, he replied, “And when you have achieved this, what do you think will happen then?”

Margo opened her mouth to argue that Irina had promised her the outer solar system–hell, the deeper cosmos–but nothing came out.

“Your usefulness is only ever an illusion, Margo, as brilliant as you are,” Sergei continued more gently. “A trick, and a brutal one.”

Margo closed her eyes, squeezing them shut lest a tear escape. “Take me back to the hotel, please,” she asked softly.

Sergei broached contact once more, reaching forward to caress and gently turn her face to his. Margo relented and opened her eyes to be met with a face full of concern for her.

“We can navigate this, Margo, it will be treacherous but we will find a way. For both of us.” Sergei squeezed her hand before turning on his car.

Soft jazz filled the car as he pulled out of Franks and headed towards her hotel. Sensing how overwhelmed she was, he kept silent as he drove across Houston. It wasn't to be a long trip, so he took her hand with his and held it until he parked a discrete distance away from her hotel.

Silence returned to the car when he shut it off. The air was heavy, like the rains were shortly returning. A handy cover for her to sneak into the hotel, but a heavier portent for the future.

Margo couldn't as yet see any way forward other than work the asteroid. Her track record on manoeuvring escapes was dreadful and left only wreckage behind.

“I will be here for you, Margo, and I have a plan to get us out,” Sergei began, interrupting her thoughts.

Margo cut him off with a sharp look and a quick exhale.

“Thank you, Sergei, for… coming to see me. It is good to see you,” the words painfully exited her chest, “we can work together on the asteroid; I know I will need your help, but…” Margo wasn't quite sure how to tell him that there was no possible future for them, that his optimism and hope were a brutal illusion of their own.

Sergei interrupted her ramble and cradled her head with both hands. Pulling her gently towards him, he rested his head against hers. “You appeared. Out of nowhere. A dream so impossible. Let me-let us-dream the impossible. My grief for you left me with an empty heart, and yet it disappears with the reality of you. I am no longer numb or in wonder at my desolation. I have outlasted the storm and so have you.”

Margo exhaled slowly and closed the last distance between them. Pressing her lips to his, she kissed him softly. Breaking the kiss she rested her head gently against his.

“They called me Margaret Reynolds,” she whispered with a strained mirth.

“Sergei Bezuko,” he whispered back encouragingly.

At that shared absurdity the car was briefly filled with giggles. Sobriety returned along with the rain as it splattered the car. They both moved to embrace the other tightly.

“We can do both, Margo,” Sergei tried to reassure her.

“We will talk more about that,” Margo said, forestalling further talk of the future beyond the asteroid capture, “But, I need to get back. I'll message you through Aleida.”

Margo loosened her hold on Sergei, and he resisted the end of their embrace only briefly. He held her hands as he gazed at her, trying to memorize her in this moment.

“I will be here for you,” he said and pressed a kiss to her hands.

Margo nodded and with one last squeeze of his hands, she opened her car door and disappeared into the rain.

--

Notes! Mwhaha. I just want them to touch more. 😉 Also, I bastardized Pushkin there at the end there.

For All Mankind | Sergei + looking at Margo

Piotr Adamczyk as Sergei Orestovich Nikulov Wrenn Schmidt as Margo Madison

yeah yeah you know the drill

This is for @burritoagain , whose ask I accidentally deleted while flailing on mobile 😅

Happy new year! Your card is the Queen of Wands.

Wands are the suit of passion and creativity, and the Queen represents the feminine side of those things. She takes the perspective of a mature, wise woman, looking inward at the thoughts and feelings that come with this fiery, spirited energy. This year brings opportunities to deepen your creativity - not in terms of output, but in how you experience the process. Let yourself embody her good-natured, enthusiastic approach to all your endeavors.

I was searching for this, lolz. I remember reading it before I watched For All Mankind and I was absolutely intrigued. This and all the wonderful gif sets got me to watch. So, kudos to all you fic writers who expound on characters and create such delicious explorations of character. ❤️

Sergei absently exchanged the blue marker for another colored marker from the tray, began shading in the sine wave. Orange. In lines like strands of hair. Margo’s hair. The memory of it soft through his fingers, of the scent of her hair, her skin, clean and warm, the sweet, strong smell of the brandy on her lips.

He moved to the negative half cycle, the white of the board again alternating through a fall of orange hair. He wondered when her hair had turned white. Did it happen slowly over the last eight years? Had the long, cold, lonely winters she wasn’t used to, hadn’t, couldn’t have prepared for, slowly leached the color from her hair, from her life? She was not meant for a cage, no matter how gilded.

Automatically, he filled in the last positive half cycle, the orange strands thinning and fading as his mind continued to wander and his pressure against the board slackened. Or had her hair turned white all at once in a shock? Was it upon learning of the bombing? Worry for her colleagues? Aleida? Did she blame herself? Was it something that happened after? Something they’d done to her? He froze. Lefortovo…

“Uh, Mr. Bezukhov?”

Slowly, he blinked, the whiteboard and the classroom refocusing around him.

“Mr. Bezukhov?”

Sergei turned, taking in the students behind their desks, their faces, some smirking, most disinterested, a few studious. Right. He had a class to teach. A life she’d paid for with her own. He owed it to her to live it. This thought had sustained him through the years, kept him moving forward, moving on. It didn’t matter that she was alive. It shouldn’t. It couldn’t. 

“So, as you can see, the current is not always constant.”

The book Sergei is reading in S2E7

Have we noticed that the book Sergei is reading while packing up in his office to return to the Soviet Union is Henry Miller's The Tropic of Cancer? A book so sexually explicit that it was actually banned in multiple countries. No wonder he quickly hides it under a pile of documents when Margo steps in to tell him about the O ring issue.