milliways_bar | (no subject)

Current Mood: amused

(no subject)

Sara's in the bar. Surprise! She's not drinking anything alcoholic. (That's actually a surprise.)

Pester at will.

Ace is good at pestering. Almost turned it into an art form.
"Hey Sara. You call Grissom yet?"

She ducks her head guiltily. "Now that you mention it..."

No. She hasn't. She's been avoiding her phone. But she did drop him a quick email. That counts for something, right?

Ace holds up her hands in a quick surrender.
"Hey, not my issue, but I am not going to be the one explaining why I didn't get his message to you."

She rolls her eyes. "I emailed him, and told him you mentioned him to me. I told him I was fine, and would call. Eventually."

Ace cocks her head. Curiosity strikes again! Or constantly. Or something.
"E-mail? What's that?"

"It's where you use computers to send messages electronically. Electronic mail = e-mail. People go to certain places on the internet--a network of connected computers, and obtain email addresses." Or something like that.

"Wow... wonder if we can get one of those for the TARDIS. It'd be so much easier than begging her to move the control room a little closer..." she muses, thoughtfully, momentarily forgetting that she might never get back to the TARDIS.

Sara grins. "I'd have to find out the actual technology. And I don't approve of industrial espionage."

"You don't?" Ace looks suprised for a moment, then grins. "Oh. Right. Conscience."

"Yeah--that pesky little thing that won't allow me to let you have a go at Ecklie. It's a bitch."

"There might be a surgery that can fix that." Helpfully.

"I don't think the conscience is an actual organ that can be removed. And I object to lobotomies. Sorry--but hey, the bar should be able to give you the information you need." Sara winks.

Ace snorts.
"The Bar is a marvellous tease."

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