milliways_bar | (no subject)

He sighs, even the gears turn.

"Makes sense to think that, yes. Though it would help if I could track down Lady Ako. Guess I'll have to turst that Alanna wouldn't go on a wild goose chase without knowing who's doing the sending.

"And in the meantime, we keep watch. I've recruited Naraht to help, by the way. She wanted something to do, to make herself feel more useful. And I can't think of a better person than an Starfleet officer."

"Good--I meant to find her yesterday. I'm glad she's decided to stick it out for the duration."

She sighs. "I blame myself for this--I commented to Murphy a while back that things were quieting down. I should've known better than that." She isn't serious but she's trying to lighten the conversation.

"And come to think of it, I warned you about that as well. Clearly, it is your fault. I think you should never speak again. Should only communicate by gestures and notes, and let me and Murphy do all the talking for you." He smirks.

"You know something? I will still maintain that the Bar at its worst is nothing like home for me. No Rogues. No alien invasions or squabbles with teammates. No budget cuts."

She only nods. And smirks.

Ah. Looks like she's playing along.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to go all Bogey on you and suggest that I do all the thinking for both of us. I can barely think for myself some days.

"Oh. I should mention that I also got Naraht a Rubik's Cube, to help her develop hand-eye skills with something less mindless than a video game."

She's still smirking.

"I wonder how long it will take her to solve the puzzle. For that matter, I wonder if he'll take it back to the Enterprise once this is fixed. I'm sure Spock couldsove it easily. But I'd love to see the rest of the crew take a crack.

"Assuming that McCoy doesn't come here and hit me for giving the crew repetitive stree injuries." Barry is not going to blink.

She shrugs, her expression saying what do you expect from a doctor?

"Well, if he does come, it's my fault, yes. But I'm sure I can explain everything.

"And I still owe him a drink from the war. Never mind that I still owe Simon Tam a drink and I never get to meet him!"

You would be surprised how easy Barry thinks this is. For now.

She nods, returning her attention to the ~~chickenscratch~~ pile of notes before her. Every so often, she raises her head to indicate she's still listening.

He smiles at her. He tries not to, but he does.

"Anything else in those notes of note?"

She shrugs and pushes them over. It's quite possible they're even less legible than they were yesterday.

"OK. I can seee that having you communicate by notes would be a total failure. Unless...let's see...unless it's true that Tim is turning into Abe Lincoln.

"It's not true, is it? That could be interesting, after all." There is no sign of a smile right now. Sort of.

She points to one sentence. Tim--paraphysical form. She hadn't heard anything about him turning into Lincoln.

"Ah. Yes. I was misreading it. It says...'Tim - paraprofessional fork.' I think that means he's becoming a teacher's aide. Or a fork. Well, maybe some good will come of this." He's beginning to smirk a bit more.

Amateur is what her expression is saying now. She's silently stared confessions out of serial killers before.

"Ah. I think I see. You're challenging me. On the job for so short a time and already I have a challenge from within the ranks. Fine."

He goes silent. But he isn't very good at this, so while he tries to maintain a straight face in silence, his smirk is struggling to get free.

He's given only another shrug.

He sits back, notes in hand, and reads. Not that he would say this, of course, but he was married once and did get the silent treatment a few times.

But he is cracking, much as he did back then.

Most of the time, the silent treatment is intented punitively. This is just a game.

Smirk, smirk, smirk, smirk, smirk.

Furtive glance from behind the papers. A nod at something he's read. A smirk, aborted.

Another nod.

He has no idea what he's doing, does he?

She just takes a drink, perfectly serene.

Nope, no idea whatsoever.

Barry inhales. Exhales. He knows he's licked. But he didn't get where he got in life by giving in so fast.

So he takes a deep breath and sits back, and goes for serene.

Barry should feel proud--he's managed to get her to be quiet. An amazing feat.

One would almost think they had entered a Buddhist temple.

The funny thing is that the silence feels nice. It's not a real silence, not in the bustle of the Bar as people cough, and gird for quests, and laugh, and drink.

But all Barry can notice, even as he tries not to laugh, is Sara. And before long, he decides that while a silent Sara is not what he would want, a serene Sara is beautiful.