The phones were working. That warranted a trip out into the woods, under the pretense of going out for a ride with the Lady Morgana, to see how well their connection held up in Camelot. Contact some friends
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The fifty-eighth time she'd tried calling since he left the text-messages? Fifty-ninth? Whatever. She stopped leaving voicemails after the first one, but like that was going to stop Francine from ringing.
"You better be there or we're coming after you guys somehow even if I have to offer to pole-dance for the Portalocity tickets guy."
Francine sighed, because it wasn't like she didn't remember that. Including the killy part. Heck, it had been top of the list of Things To Worry About Besides Not Hearing From Them for the last three weeks.
She'd just kind of shoved that under a pillow while she was busy being overjoyed. "But not raining marshmallows things."
"Pick up something? Where? I thought you didn't have marshmallows in your time." It was hard to avoid picturing him popping down to the Camelot Quik-Stop for them, despite having a fairly good idea what a market might really look like there, from Kaeleer.
"Like you haven't seen all my porn?" Oh wait, he hadn't. There were three more volumes of Taste of the Apple now. ...She was talking about porn on the phone in the lounge of a tube hotel. Oh God.
"You better be there or we're coming after you guys somehow even if I have to offer to pole-dance for the Portalocity tickets guy."
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Pfft, one question at a time. PFFT, says Francine.
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She'd just kind of shoved that under a pillow while she was busy being overjoyed. "But not raining marshmallows things."
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That'd be the sound of a forehead thunking against a tube-bed several times.
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"Oh wait, your saddlebags!"
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