This forum uses cookies
This forum makes use of cookies to store your login information if you are registered, and your last visit if you are not. Cookies are small text documents stored on your computer; the cookies set by this forum can only be used on this website and pose no security risk. Cookies on this forum also track the specific topics you have read and when you last read them. Please confirm whether you accept or reject these cookies being set.

A cookie will be stored in your browser regardless of choice to prevent you being asked this question again. You will be able to change your cookie settings at any time using the link in the footer.

Thread Rating:
  • 0 Vote(s) - 0 Average
  • 1
  • 2
  • 3
  • 4
  • 5
Baby
#61
Nika blinked at the room.  Antiseptic.  All smooth, sealed surfaces sloping toward strategic drains in the floor.  A flash of one memory saw red stretching like tendrils, gravity pulling them downward.  Irrelevant to now so dismissed easily enough.  Endure and survive.  A mighty yawn reduced her to twelve again.  Bleary eyes found the other woman and regarded her neutrally.  A vague recollection of last night flapped just out of reach like a high speed train on the other side of a sound barrier.  It would come to her later.  That little box was meant for a big, giant question mark on the label.  


Amelia Pond.  Right.  She shrugged and slid off the table.  Bed?  The thing was super hard and uncomfortable so it became a table.  The tablet on the desk was snagged and instructions were sent to BB.  A slow, impish grin spread across her features on the trek upward.  She did manage to live, after all.  She was quiet as she ate but not to be rude.  She was thinking; processing.  That would be abundantly clear.  What a crazy night.  Sweet cheese and crackers she was tired.  And sore!  Occasionally she looked toward X when she thought the elder woman was paying the least attention.  That notion was of course ridiculous as it seemed X could give surveillance drones lessons.  Pond gave a little grunting chuckle at that mental picture around a piece of perfectly cooked bacon.  Mmm...and coffee.  Gods she loved coffee.

X was not interrogating her.  That seemed weird.  Weird but okay by her.  Dishes were tidied away, the kitchen and table policed like a third-world country.  Amy Pond retrieved her disguise from BB’s care package delivery and slipped out the same way it had come in.  The big drone’s stowage bay was a comfort of the familiar.  Not the most dignified way to travel but not the worst either.  A belated thought followed her curiously home.  She didn’t think that was the last time she’d see the other women.  Curious indeed.
Reply


Forum Jump:


Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)