At least she's not a meter maid
The woman who stumbles into the Rift room in the basement of the Conrad was, quite frankly, expecting someplace else. Expecting a bar, with a man she'd just met behind her, where they could quietly discuss the fact that this man catches aliens for a living.
Hell of a job.
Instead, she finds a white room with a few amenities and a burned-out... well, it was probably supposed to be some kind of machine, but it just looks like a lump of metal to her. A bed. A couch.
A door.
"Captain Harkness?" she asks suspiciously, though she doesn't see anyone there. "Is this your idea of a joke?"
((ooc: Hey. Been dragged into this for plot reasons. Have mod approval for this, as well as Gwen-mun approval, though I guess that comes with the general "mod approval" thing. Thank you. :D))
Hell of a job.
Instead, she finds a white room with a few amenities and a burned-out... well, it was probably supposed to be some kind of machine, but it just looks like a lump of metal to her. A bed. A couch.
A door.
"Captain Harkness?" she asks suspiciously, though she doesn't see anyone there. "Is this your idea of a joke?"
((ooc: Hey. Been dragged into this for plot reasons. Have mod approval for this, as well as Gwen-mun approval, though I guess that comes with the general "mod approval" thing. Thank you. :D))