There was logic to Xander crawling out of bed and opening the office today even though every time he opened his eye or moved his head he felt like small woodland creatures had moved into his skull to frolic and gambol AND THEN GOT SMASHED BY GODZILLA
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She had thinky face on. She was also very intent on organizing and sorting things.
To the point where she was measuring paperclips to make sure they were lined up from smallest to largest.
It was possible she might soon bust out a magnifying glass so she could sub-sort them into alphabetical order by manufacturer's label.
On the one hand it kept her off the streets. On the other: scary.
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If she were actually on his lap, a) he wouldn't have the proper distance required to study her efforts from behind his newspaper, and b) they'd have more immediate things to discuss than the categorizing of office equipment.
"Okay, either you're mentally creating little families and life-histories for them, in which case I should probably go get some more empty kleenex boxes, or you're gearing up for a full-on obssession-session. Just the look on your face is making my headache worse."
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