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The Bells of St John
Jul. 8th, 2013 07:06 pmShe woke up on the cafe terrace.
It had been morning, she remembers that much - now it must be getting on noon, and her head hurts just as abominably as it did the last time she woke up after running into one of those... robot base-station things.
And once again she is alone.
She ought not be surprised, she supposes. He was there to protect her. If she's back, then... she flips open her laptop and checks - the weird wi-fi signal is gone now. So if it's gone, she doesn't need protecting, and he's gone again.
Perhaps she ought to have checked if he was some sort of android.
She... ought not be disappointed. After all, ever since he arrived, she's been in danger, running from one crisis to the next, and trapped in that non-space twice. And he never did get her that coffee.
But... despite that. Despite the danger, and the mind-numbing terror, she'd... it'd been nice. Because he'd cared. He'd seen her, as her, and asked questions. Questions that no one had asked for years. And he'd been clever. Terribly clever, and it was fun matching her wits against him, fun watching him get flustered and indignant and pleased by turns.
Carefully she scoops up her laptop, and tries to remember where she saw the last Underground station on her way here.
It had been morning, she remembers that much - now it must be getting on noon, and her head hurts just as abominably as it did the last time she woke up after running into one of those... robot base-station things.
And once again she is alone.
She ought not be surprised, she supposes. He was there to protect her. If she's back, then... she flips open her laptop and checks - the weird wi-fi signal is gone now. So if it's gone, she doesn't need protecting, and he's gone again.
Perhaps she ought to have checked if he was some sort of android.
She... ought not be disappointed. After all, ever since he arrived, she's been in danger, running from one crisis to the next, and trapped in that non-space twice. And he never did get her that coffee.
But... despite that. Despite the danger, and the mind-numbing terror, she'd... it'd been nice. Because he'd cared. He'd seen her, as her, and asked questions. Questions that no one had asked for years. And he'd been clever. Terribly clever, and it was fun matching her wits against him, fun watching him get flustered and indignant and pleased by turns.
Carefully she scoops up her laptop, and tries to remember where she saw the last Underground station on her way here.
