Lunch service winded down in time for the intercom's signature jingle, with the once energetic Harrington sounding rather strained beneath his business-like air. The cause remained unknown
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Unimpressed was a good word for what she was feeling. At least, that was what hit her when she first woke up and blinked through the bleariness of sleep, only to find that this wasn't a dream. (Or was it?) The shift of consciousness due to subspace and the way her head worked sometimes made things confusing, especially given the fact that, in recent months, she slept side-by-side with a guy whose head she frequented. But she doubted butch-military uniforms with dog-tags were really Scott's style. He wasn't ever really into those types of games
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