Politeness he damned, there are some times you’ve just got to stare. I do, she notices, and she likes it. I get a speculative glance from the corner of one of those gold eyes, and the hint of something that could be a smile, and suddenly I want to run in circles howling, or dragging a wing, or some damn thing. (No, be honest, what I really want to do is investigate the degrees of freedom allowed by that split skirt.) I watch her receding rear aspect until the group is into the ops room and the door closes behind her. Then I grin over at Box.