She grinned, lowering her book to let it sit on her stomach. "Mine was built for me by a Time Lord when a Dalek blew up my old one." She sat up, her feet dangling on either side of the hammock - yes, she really was that short. "You can sit if you don't dump me arse over feet." She looked at her boombox. "Don't think the batteries are ever going to die, either. It could act like an odd RADAR thing back home, but... Only he could work it."
She looked at him expectantly. "And you'll notice I'm not listening to the radio show." She grinned wider. "I have better taste in music."
Ace's brows rose, and she eyed him. "... Noir?" Not that noir was bad, mind, but- "Isn't that like... Dick Tracey and Casablanca and... that kind of thing?"
.... She mostly equated Jazz with... well. When she and the Doctor had-
Why did most of her memories begin that way? "That's not usually the word I'd think would describe jazz first."
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He looked down at Ace lying down on an honest-to-God hammock and waved. "Hey, there."
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She looked at him expectantly. "And you'll notice I'm not listening to the radio show." She grinned wider. "I have better taste in music."
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He did take the offer to sit down, making sure not to, as Ace said "dump her arse over feet", and made himself comfortable.
"Hey, jazz is my sort of music too," said Jamie. "Of course, most music was my sort of music, but jazz especially. It's just so...noir."
And do I ever like being noir.
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.... She mostly equated Jazz with... well. When she and the Doctor had-
Why did most of her memories begin that way? "That's not usually the word I'd think would describe jazz first."
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