milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

Claire is in the bar today, a folder of her new history laid in front of her. She's filling out a form or two (or three or five), occasionally glancing back at the folder, turning a page here and there as she searches for information.

And every so often she drinks some mint-flavored tea. But you might have guessed that already.

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"You weren't hurt too badly there, were you?"

She shrugs again. Again, left more than right.
"Bit of a burn, here," She brushes her temple, which is still a little red, "And a nasty bruise from the laser rifle's kick. But asprin takes care of that." She got off way too easy, considering the damage she did. Don't think she isn't thankful.

Claire's thankful as well.

"How's Tim?' she asks, changing the subject. "And Magic?"

"Tim is good. Keeping himself busy. Magic helps with that."

By stealing his shoes.

She smirks, "You know what they say, right?"

"Err... no?" Ace looks rather confused.

Claire writes something down on one of the forms, still smirking, but not meeting Ace's eyes.

"Oh, you know. First a dog, then a baby."

Flail.

"No. Baby. No."

"Oh. Sure. Of course," she nods a little, still carefully printing out her name on the dotted line.

"Claire. No baby." Just so we're clear.

"Even if Tim wanted one?" she asks, genuinely curious.

"He doesn't." At least, he's never said anything to her that would indicate he did.

Perhaps he's just a very smart man.

She nods and lets the subject go. Sort of.

"I think I want another, one day."

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