sandrawright:

“You okay?” Owen frowned as XX repeated her order.

“I will be,” XX responded.

Owen poured the finger of scotch without another word and then placed the glass in front of her with all due ceremony.

XX picked up the glass and gave it a considering look before raising an ironic toast.

“Step aside, coffee, this is a job for alcohol,” she muttered before downing it in one shot.

Net Recovery lives!  I don’t actually know who’s in such dire need of a stiff drink, but the scene popped into my head and made me laugh, so I figured I might as well write it down somewhere.

The tone and humour of it makes me think Wren has hit a tough spot.  I really like that chick, she’s going to have to have a book to herself one day.  Oh, wait … I started writing her story - Tailor Made.

*sigh* And then I went ahead and posted this to my other blog.  If you’re wondering, Susan, I’ve got a separate one running here that doesn’t include my writing.  Uh, there's a liberal serve of Star Trek in the mix. Just sayin’.