When you're a busy young man with your nose in administrative duties, you have a tendency to zero in on you work. Not on where you may be going. Which is why a serious-looking, tall young man in glasses walks in looking at his notepad and nothing else. He doesn't notice that he hasn't stepped into the Universal Studio headquarters in New York, not
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A long, cool drink of water in the shape of an attractive redhead appears behind Preston's shoulder with a dry smile. The telepathic pattern of 'wtf?' upon entering the bar is a fairly unmistakeable one.
It's not shameless curiosity that has Dr. Jean Grey paying a visit, she assures herself. There could be security concerns. Really.
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Jean reaches over to tap him on the shoulder regardless, and repeats her question with a little more information attendent. "Impressive, isn't it? The end of the universe."
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:O! There are people here! "Hi," he says. "It's...where am I?" He snaps out of his daze and hops right into an interrogation mode. As close to interrogation as a Hollywood adminstrative assistant can get.
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"The bird comes gliding down resting on the back of the chair on the opposite side of the table. "Are you alright?"
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Is the window talking to me? he thinks.
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And doesn't he have any idea that the slightly clumsy-and-geekish ones with high-up connections are the ones (eternally) young actresses like to stick their claws into?
"Are you hurt?" asks Daisy.
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"...Daisy Adair?"
Which goes to say that he's looking at her, too.
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"The one and only, darling! Normally I'd offer my hand and an introduction, but evidently there's no need. Have we met?"
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