Office Hours, Tuesday, July 3
It'd been quiet patrol-wise since Kennedy got back from Pylea. It'd stayed that way, which was the part that was a little bit weird, but Kennedy actually didn't mind. It meant there was more time to work on other things, like training exercises for some of the girls. (And it was helping, okay, not 'butting in,' thank you very much, certain Slayers Who Shall Not Be Named.) Plus hey, also time for some personal stuff; she loved her job, but she was really trying not to end up like her dad.
So in between brief but frenetic bursts of typing and then tossing a few darts at the dartboard (with her eyes closed, or over her shoulder, like a big old showoff), she might occasionally stop and frown in concentration for a few seconds. More often than not those little interludes would end with Kennedy sighing and shaking her head, but every now and then she seemed kind of pleased with herself.
This was totally a productive kind of day.
[[ze post, it is open.]]
So in between brief but frenetic bursts of typing and then tossing a few darts at the dartboard (with her eyes closed, or over her shoulder, like a big old showoff), she might occasionally stop and frown in concentration for a few seconds. More often than not those little interludes would end with Kennedy sighing and shaking her head, but every now and then she seemed kind of pleased with herself.
This was totally a productive kind of day.
[[ze post, it is open.]]