(no subject)
Dexter's been holed up in his room for the past few days, coming down only to ask the bar for some peculiar things a bit at a time before heading back up. A new shirt, for one. Books you can't find on Earth. A DNA kit, a screwdriver, and a giant carton of red licorice, among other things.
It's really probably best not to ask. The point is, he's back down in the bar now, sitting at his usual table, watching the other patrons as he usually does. Sitting next to his drink are a card and a pair of white gloves, a well-appreciated gift from Mary.
He's keeping an eye out for Mary to say thanks, but he's pefectly botherable.
It's really probably best not to ask. The point is, he's back down in the bar now, sitting at his usual table, watching the other patrons as he usually does. Sitting next to his drink are a card and a pair of white gloves, a well-appreciated gift from Mary.
He's keeping an eye out for Mary to say thanks, but he's pefectly botherable.