(no subject)
One disheveled forensic anthropologist in the bar.
Ordinarily, Dr. Temperance Brennan's door to Milliways is fixed in one place. But occasionally it likes to surprise her. Usually on a night like tonight, when she's in mud-spattered coveralls and wading boots, having spent the last several hours recovering human remains from swampland.
(Except that Brennan would say that that is not rational. Milliways does not set out to 'surprise' her. That implies sentience on the part of the bar, which, logically, is impossible.)
She's sitting a little apart from the crowd. Not that she wouldn't enjoy company, but she doesn't want to inflict bog-smell on the other patrons any more than necessary.
Ordinarily, Dr. Temperance Brennan's door to Milliways is fixed in one place. But occasionally it likes to surprise her. Usually on a night like tonight, when she's in mud-spattered coveralls and wading boots, having spent the last several hours recovering human remains from swampland.
(Except that Brennan would say that that is not rational. Milliways does not set out to 'surprise' her. That implies sentience on the part of the bar, which, logically, is impossible.)
She's sitting a little apart from the crowd. Not that she wouldn't enjoy company, but she doesn't want to inflict bog-smell on the other patrons any more than necessary.