Spock decides not to question that first statement further. He's really better off not knowing.
"I recall that." he replies to the second. As he's sufficiently pinned to his seat, he'll lean back and steeple his fingers in a meditative pose. "They were on my mind the second I awoke. I had concerns. Such as, what might've happened if I'd disappeared from the ship, and you hadn't been there to care for them."
Says the demon-turned-human who resorted to throwing things. He won't point that out; he didn't need to. Besides, he was still caught up on this stranger.
"Could you describe this individual? What he looked like, or what he wore?"
That's a curious mental image. He did ask, though. He reaches down and pets Tiberius. The other rats had divided loyalties: some went to BJ to find a spot to rest, others to Spock. It was all rather adorable.
"Next suitable port, then. If they wish to depart." It was a tentatively finalized decision.
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"I recall that." he replies to the second. As he's sufficiently pinned to his seat, he'll lean back and steeple his fingers in a meditative pose. "They were on my mind the second I awoke. I had concerns. Such as, what might've happened if I'd disappeared from the ship, and you hadn't been there to care for them."
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"Like that kid who I threw the cage at. And then chased in here. And then threw a prop snake at."
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"Probably. I'm bad with names. Anyway, if he didn't get the ratties, somebody else would've. Humans are weirdly particular about pets."
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"Could you describe this individual? What he looked like, or what he wore?"
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Sorry, Spock.
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"...Right. Of course." Instead of pointing out the obvious unhelpfulness, he instead asks, "Have you bounced many quarters off of people?"
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"Next suitable port, then. If they wish to depart." It was a tentatively finalized decision.
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