003 ⌥ VIDEO -- saturday night

[femshep]

[And here's Shepard, out in the fog but you can tell she's walking briskly (presumably back toward the Flop) by the slight rhythmic sway of the camera. But she has SOMETHING IMPORTANT TO SAY, so listen up.]

If you hear this, you need to get inside and keep your door shut. There's something in this fog--the residents are all clearing the streets, and I think I saw a few putting on gas masks.

I repeat, if you hear this, you need to-... [A pause in which keeping a straight face seems difficult, and then she's busting up laughing.] You need to put on a skirt and stand on your head or something, because shit, I don't get why the hell you all listen to me, anyway. [By 'listen to' she means 'generally take orders from', and she distinctly remembers it making sense an hour ago, but now she's had an epiphany and it's fantastic.

Meanwhile, she tames the laughter down to an ecstatic grin, and in a tone that probably definitely makes you wonder what she's planning next and if you should duck and cover, she offers just two words:]

Shepard out.

[End transmission.]

Comments

[femshep]

To Ilos? Once. [A head-shake.] It was too late, though. Thousands of years too late.

[thecricketer]

[his face falls, and a sudden, grim weariness flickers in his eyes] It's always difficult, to see the aftermath - to know there's absolutely nothing you can do.

[femshep]

[She shakes her head again.] It wasn't bad. Just... eerie. I guess. [Then she grins, letting out a little laugh.] 'Eerie'. Who makes up these words?

[thecricketer]

[quite earnestly] I believe it comes from the Middle English eri, actually.

[femshep]

[A laugh.] Shut up, that wasn't a real question. It was hypothetical.

[...wrong word. Under breath:] Anatomical, analytical, allegorical, rhe-- [That's the word!]

Rhetorical. It was rhetorical, or something.

[thecricketer]

[his grin is decidedly cheeky now] Yes, that's the one. Unfortunately, it's not in my own vocabulary.

[femshep]

Should be. It means you don't have to answer stupid questions.

[A beat.]

Not that I ever ask any, obviously.

[thecricketer]

[he holds up a finger] No such thing.

[femshep]

[She's reaching up to grab the finger, as if that suddenly means his point no longer exists.]

Plenty such thing.

[thecricketer]

[he glances down at his finger, amused] Well, how can I possibly argue with that.

[femshep]

You can't. And that's why I win. [She releases his finger now, point having been made.]

[thecricketer]

[as he flexes his poor abused finger] What do you win, precisely?

[femshep]

[She opens her mouth to answer, but has no answer yet, so she closes it. She's thinking for a second, and that thinking fades to puzzlement which fades to amusement, and with a laugh she's admitting:] I don't even remember what we were saying to start with.

[thecricketer]

[with another grin] I'm sure it wasn't all too important. [he pulls his hand back, only to gesture behind her] Besides, we're very nearly there.

[they can see the edge of the city from here, though the TARDIS isn't quite in view]

[femshep]

[And she's looking around, and it's occurring to her to ask:] Did you ever tell me where we were going?

[thecricketer]

[after a moment, a bit ruefully] ...Possibly not.

We're going to my ship. She's a bit - damaged, but we should be all right if we stay in the console room. We'll certainly be safe from the fog.

[femshep]

A doctor with a ship. [This concept seems difficult to wrap her head around at current.] That's not how it's s'posed to work.

[thecricketer]

[as his eyebrows arch] And why is that?

[femshep]

Officers have ships. Doctors have... [Confused look. What do doctors have?] Scalpels.

[thecricketer]

Do they? Well, I suppose I'm not a typical doctor, then.