Location: Prime Cuts

"Alright. I can take a hint."

Could've fooled me, Moira thought, but said nothing. She'd given this clown enough of her time and energy for the day, and she didn't want to let anything out of her mouth that could be mistaken for friendly and/or flirty banter. She glared at Holliday as he backed away and insisted on lingering in the doorway just to annoy her further.

"Don't be late. You know. Just in general."

Moira's expression didn't flinch, but her stomach gave a nasty lurch. Then he was gone. She stood frozen, playing absentmindedly with a pen she'd picked up from the table as she tried to pinpoint the source of her sudden unease.

It couldn't be... could it?

Her mind wandered back to the first time he'd come snooping around, and the theories that had bounced around her head at the time, particularly the one about him being hired by Sebastian to test her. Was she being watched?

Or was it another bizarre gynecological pickup line?

"What do you make of this guy?" she asked. Orville, who had been standing in the back of the store as a silent witness to their back-and-forth, jumped at being suddenly addressed.

"I, uh... maybe... he's just really into you, ma'am?" He sounded hopeful -- it was one of the less dangerous explanations for his curiosity -- but also a little like he was delivering his condolences to her. "I don't like him," he rushed to added in response to her icy glare.

"Mhm."  Moira continued to play with the pen. She would have preferred to wait a while longer to make sure she didn't bump into Holliday on her way out, but her rendezvous hour was drawing near, and so she finally returned the pen to its holder and made her way to the door.

"If he comes back, just keep him at an arm's length. I have an errand to run. If he asks where I am..." she paused in the doorway, fumbling for an answer for a split second before realizing it should have been obvious. "It's none of his business."

Then she was off, destination Station Commons. As Moira made her way through the crowd, she tried to keep her eye on her surroundings in a way that was not too conspicuous, watching for any sign of Holliday -- or anybody else -- who might be tailing her.

Location: Sector 3A - Velocity

Now that they had left the shop, Velocity had no problem swinging the violin over her shoulder which gave her a hand free to hold on to Chips' hand; she was no more interested in losing touch with Chips than he was with her. It was an unusual experience for her, since Bonnie's passing, to have someone to guide her through the complexities of a station. The last had been Dr. Robyn Li and that had been many years previously and the surprise at remembering someone spontaneously memory left her wondering if her association with Chips would be as short.

Chips' antics with the call button with amusement, her head tilting to one side like that of a bird eyeing a worm as she wondered if he really thought the tube car would arrive quicker or if it was a manifestation of some issue he had. The sudden arrival of the car and the rush around getting in to it without losing her guide pushed aside any further consideration of the matter.

Location: HUB - Velocity

It was Velocity's first foray into the 'park' of Iscariot station and although she was a veteran spacefarer who had seen the limitless stars on too many occasions to count, she was still impressed by the hemispherical vista without the annoying small viewports and wide frames of the cockpit of a typical space craft. She gazed around for a while taking in the view until Chips' question brought her mind back to her companion.

Chips: How come you're so tall?"

It was a measure of her comfort with her new-found friendship with the young lad, and the fact that there were, for the moment, no external stressors, that instead of giving a serious, factual answer relating to parentage and genetics she chose humour instead. "I was very small when I was young so my parents used to hang me from the rafters with a weight tied around my legs to stretch me. One time they forgot about me and left me up there for a week. When they came back I was this tall," she replied in a deadpan voice, looking down at Chips to gauge his reaction.

Location: Sector 3B

"There's another couple staying here with a kid about your daughter's age, if you're looking for friends," the man told them. Freya stared at the gentleman, then turned her head to stare up at Briar and E.V in turn. Had she been adopted? Is this how that worked? A brow rose slowly and the corners of her lips turned downward in thought. Would that be all that terrible? They seemed nice, and they were taking her with them on this adventure. She didn't seem like she was a burden to them, and she figured anyone could adopt anyone, if they really wanted to. Probably. Freya crossed her arms over her chest and rocked back on her ankles.

Finally, her attention turned back to the man behind the counter, "No friends, please," she countered, figuring she didn't need to correct him on the daughter part if she had in fact been surprise-adopted. She was a little confused, but she figured that was part of the surprise. Who was she to question the adoption process.

Location: HUB - Velocity

"...my parents used to hang me from the rafters with a weight tied around my legs to stretch me...left me up there for a week. When they came back I was this tall," Velocity told him.

Chips started at her with wide eyes, his brows raised and lips parted, clearly entirely enthralled with her explanation. His hands lifted to touch the top of his own head, then one hand encircled the opposite wrist. He nodded curtly, his expression serious, as if he was contemplating her answer and how it absolutely made sense.

"Maybe you could do that for me?" he asked, staring back up at her with a smile. Before she could answer, he hopped off toward the café counter, "I'll get us some food! Save us a spot!" he called, waving the money he'd given her in the air before tucking it back into his pocket, leaving her to choose where she'd like to sit. The park itself was mostly empty, save for a few couples and solo visitors setting up blankets on the 'grass' to watch the upcoming race. The chairs near the café were also rather empty. Cheers and excitement came from the crowd at the bar, however, where the boisterous and monetarily loose were preparing to bet on the upcoming excitement.

From the Hub, the ship Velocity had seen on Little Sebastian's screen was still visible, moving slowly toward the docks. With her keen eye and knowledge about spacecraft, she'd likely be able to detect that it was moving slower than necessary on arrival. Perhaps due to pilot caution? Or inexperience? Or maybe the default settings of a rarely used and poorly programed autopilot? Or perhaps something entirely different.

Location: HUB - Velocity

Velocity watched Chips as he processed her outrageous claim that she owed her height to a procedure more akin to medieval torture than to an appropriate quasi-medical procedure.

"Maybe you could that for me?"

Oh, Chips!" Velocity exclaimed, laughing. She could laugh, sometimes. It was rare but it did happen and her interaction with Chips was making it more likely.

She would have added more but the lad was off to get them food with an exhortation to find them somewhere to sit and she wasn't convinced that Chips had heard her. Velocity looked around. The bar didn't seem appropriate; it didn't seem the right environment for a child and the introverted Velocity was repulsed by the noise and boisterous behaviour. That left the option of chairs near the cafe or the 'grass'; for no good reason she decided to find a spot on the grass.

Velocity bent and carefully placed her violin and bag on the grass and then carefully lowered her lanky frame to the ground. It was a long way down and when she was seated, her knees up under her chin and her arms wrapped around her legs, she looked almost like a giant spider; all arms and legs.

Waiting for Chips, Velocity looked around. Her gaze was arrested by the sight of the same Kestrel class ship she had seen on Sebastian's monitor and had hoped she might be flying. It was moving much more slowly than she would have expected and while she waited for Chips' return, she speculated on why that might be. "A novice pilot? Systems issues?" she wondered idly. She continued to watch the ship's progress while she waited for Chips wondering if she would ever know the reason for the ship's behaviour.

Ben returned the mischievous smile, and took the hand Elena offered. "Lady Marseille, It would be my absolute pleasure." He said formally as he stood. "The shuttle they've given us is quite a nice model. I was hired on short notice, so Rob and Laura came with me to give me a hand making sure she'll be running her best. We stripped her down and put her back together again, and I dare say she'll fly even better than the day she left the shipyards." He continued as they moved to exit the Companion House. "They were just putting the hull plating back on when I left, so they should be finished by the time we get there. I'm sure they'd love to meet you." For all his family's teasing, they all genuinely wanted to meet Elena. When Ben sung someones praises you could be sure that it was well deserved.

Location: HUB - Velocity

After several minutes, enough to give Velocity some alone time to settle in her spot in the grass and watch the ship inch closer and closer to the station, Chips came bounding back with a paper bag held tightly against his chest.

"I got us sammwiches," he exclaimed proudly, tripping, stumbling, catching himself, and finally allowing himself to tumble to a halt next to Velocity. He smiled up at her from where he laid on his back, the food still safe in the bag. "And some drinks," he added, grinning toothily up at her. The boy sat up, and dumped the contents of the bag out onto the grass, revealing two plastic wrapped sandwiches (one 'peanut butter and jelly' and two thickly stuffed 'ham and cheese' sandwiches), and two bottles of water. "A feast! I didn't know if you were keen on meat so I got a backup!" he announced, poking the PB&J.


The hubub at the bar grew a little louder with excitement and speculation. Their main golden boy, who was currently highly encouraged not to show his face around the station for a while, wasn't racing, but Leon was and they liked Leon only a little less than they liked Marty. He was still a good bet, at least. No one beat Leon. Except for Marty. "If Sebastian doesn't give you a job soon, will you race?" Chips asked curiously.

Location:  Station Commons - Hercules, Moira

The Station Commons were located a reasonable distance from the main shops of each sector. The space was high and wide, filled with smaller food carts, chairs and seating, and settled across from a raised 'stage' area typically used for things like auctions, evening 'entertainment', and drunken roughhousing.

The area was big enough to allow most people to have private conversations, the seats and standing room far enough apart that the general hum of the station drowned out what was being said. The once bare and grey walls had been decorated and tapestries, curtains, silks, and sheets of varying shades of reds, purples, and browns. Graffiti and advertisements for shops filled up any blank spots, and in the corners of the rooms, pillows, chairs, and boxes had been piled up to provide additional seating. The perfect locale for a clandestine meeting.

Location: The Lady Magdalene

"I'm sure they'd love to meet you," Ben assured her, and she couldn't help but feel flattered. "Oh, the feeling is mutual, I assure you," she countered, walking with him out of the room and down the hall back toward the entrance. As she passed Fleur manning the foyer, the Companion paused briefly.

"I'll be out for the rest of the evening. Feel free to give the girls the night off if they have no prior engagements. I recommend watching the race up in the HUB, but you can spend your evening however you wish," she told her. The blonde grinned at Ben and tilted her chin downward, waving good bye at him with long, elegant fingers. "See you again," she called to him sweetly.

The pair made their way through the station toward the docks, the throngs of people parting subconsciously as Elena and Ben moved down the center of the walkway.

Location: Docks

The doors to the lift opened, the sounds and smells of the stations dock filling the tube before the pair departed, their trip unimpeded. As they neared the section of the port meant for the racers, the announcement for pilots to head back to their ships echoed through the station. "Ah, good timing," she murmured at him, grinning. A figure leaned against Ben's shuttle, still a little too distant to see clearly, and two more figures were between said shuttle and the two walking arm in arm, most likely Rob and Laura.

Location: HUB - Velocity

Velocity's attention was drawn to Chips as the youngster returned with the food. She was a little disappointed in the quantity but she made an even stronger effort to hide it when she realised how pleased with himself he was. It would address her immediate hunger and she knew that she could always make a run to the cafe herself.

"Thank you, Chips, she replied. "I'm an omnivore, I eat anything. I have even been known to eat small boys." A smile crept onto Velocity's face and she reached out and ruffled Chips' hair. "Don't worry, with this feast I don't think I will need to today."

"If Sebastian doesn't give you a job soon, will you race?"

Velocity considered the question for a moment and then replied, "Competition is not really my thing, not since the war, anyway. When you are used to competing against hostile mis..." she stopped suddenly as her brain caught up with her mouth and she was overwhelmed by the intense memory in all its intense, visual detail of that missile. She buried her face in her hands as the tears flowed down her cheeks and sobs violently shook her body.

Location: HUB - Velocity

Chips didn't lift a hand to straighten his hair after it had been ruffled. He was perfectly content to let it stay poking every which way. He started undoing the 'PB&J', internally thankful that she ate meat so he could have the jelly sandwich himself. He always liked those ones more than the ones with 'meat'.

"...When you are used to competing against hostile mis..." she trailed off and even Chips could see that she'd gone elsewhere. His eyes widened and he froze mid bite, the sandwich's corner stuck in his mouth.

Then she started crying. Not sure what to do, he shoved half the sandwich in his mouth and wiped his hands off on the 'grass' before reaching out to pat at her shoulder, her hair, and finally hugged the entirety of her head. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to do that!" he told her honestly. He didn't know what exactly was the matter, but he had seen that look on the faces of many of the station's residents, and it was never followed by something good. He'd seen it lead to crying, violence, and things far worse than either.

A stranger approached the pair of them and cleared his throat to interrupt the moment, his fist balled up in front of his mouth to muffle the noise. Not comfortable around crying women, the man looked up and around while he waited for them to compose themselves before finally bending at the waist to move his clean-shaven face closer to them. "Eh, time for work," he told the pilot, not aware of how cryptic and vague that was. Straightening again, he turned and gestured toward the lift, his brows aloft as he waited.

Location: Station Commons

Holliday was definitely not following Moira.

He had his own agenda that didn't involve tailing a hairdresser. He was working. First real job on Iscariot and he wasn't about to squander the opportunity. His compulsive flirting aside, Holliday did take himself and his work seriously; his lousy luck was more often his downfall than any true fault of his own. Of course there was an argument for self-sabotage, but Holliday wasn't often that self reflective.

The Station Commons spread out before him, the area was positively buzzing as wares were hawked and bys were passed. Holliday regretted setting their meet time for a busy time of day. He disliked crowds, generally, but large groups of people tended to hide a less savory element; present company excluded. Pickpockets was what he was worried about. Luckily, he hadn't actually received the contraband yet. He had only located it, so he wasn't worried about that being pilfered. Holliday had a tendency to lose his personal belongings anyways, he didn't need some snot nosed kid getting their grubby hands in his pockets. He patted his wallet to be sure that it was there.

It wasn't. "Wong ba dunh!"

Location: HUB - Velocity

Chips couldn't have reacted better if he had tried; his craddling of Velocity's head served to dramatically shorten her discombobulation.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to do that!"

Velocity found herself initially unable to respond verbally to Chips' unnecessary apology but eventually she calmed down sufficiently to respond.

"Not your fault, Chips," she reassured him. "Just a silly old woman too good at metaphorically tripping over her own feet."

She would have added more but a voice interrupted her and she rotated her head to look in the direction from which the sound had come.

"Eh, time for work,"

Velocity could have been excused for exhibiting confusion at the obtuse statement but it slid past consicous thought and resonated with obedience of wartime orders, a resonance that was amplified by the memory invoked by her careless response to Chips' innocent question.

"Ok," Velocity acknowledged flatly. Even in just that one word she managed to convey a lifelessness that even a poor quality text-to-speech program would have achieved. Obediently she collected her belongings and followed, the only sign of life being her hand which, again without conscious thought, sought out the comfort of Chips' hand.

[Exit Velocity to Ep2 - Warhawks]

A system wide alert broadcast in all directions.


Location: Docks - Elena, Jessie, Ben

Ships docked were locked into place, the race was put on pause, and things were either cleaned up quickly or hidden under carefully crafted storage spaces made to look invisible if one wasn't aware of their location. Now, racing wasn't illegal necessarily, but plenty of those who entered the race had a few warrants for similar actions where it might not have been entirely legal to be going that fast with someone else's ship. A large portion of the potential racers scattered, making a mess of things as they went. Leon the Lion sauntered past where Ben had his ship and offered the pilot a wink and a finger gun, "Nothing like some excitement before a race to get the blood pumping!" he called to him before walking aimlessly in another direction, looking for someone else to deliver a peppy one-liner to.

Location: Station Commons - Hercules, Moira

The announcement echoed eerily across the space, seeming to magnify its volume with every reiteration of the Alliance's presence. The crowds outside of the commons were moving like a fish downstream, and managed to push Moira toward her intended destination much faster than she might have liked. And they were none too gentle about it. A man trying to exit the commons as she was entering elbowed past her, "Oi! Watch out!" he called half-heartedly, too focused on getting 'home' to really offer her any sincere venom. He hurried on his way. Stalls shut their awnings, closing up their 'shops' and some carted them out as best as they could, knowing full well they had no license to sell whatever illegal goods they were likely trying to pawn off on the unsuspecting.

Location: Sector 3B - E.V, Briar, Freya

All at once, chaos erupted on Iscariot Station. Shops began to shutter closed, long time residents of the station vanished into alleys, households, vents, and all the nooks and crannies. The motel's front desk gentleman stood abruptly and slapped a key on the counter. "Two beds it is, Queen and Twin, non-smokin'," he told them sternly, his demeanor entirely shifted. "I'll collect the payment once this's all over. I recommend goin' to your room and stayin' there for a bit," he said, rounding the counter and moving to the door. With a grunt, he yanked the shutters down over the doors and locked them at the bottom, leaving them lit only by the small lamps in the reception area.

The announcement for pilots to make their way to their ships echoed overhead. Jesse looked up scanning the around her for tall, blonde, and handsome. She sighed in disappointment. Perhaps he wasn't racing today, but the records showed he was supposed to be there today. Two figures came towards her, a man and a woman but she didn't recognize them.

In the distance behind them though, Jesse saw a familiar silhouette. She swallowed hard, Elena. Of course. Elena always had an ability to see right through her, or anyone...like a super power. However the  deep pitted feeling of dread didn't last for long. Jesse's eyes found their way to Elena's companion. A grin sprawling across her face.

"Ben! Hey Benji...and Elena." Her voice dropped off towards the end, the enthusiasm dissipating slightly at the mention of the companion. It's not that Jesse didn't like Elena, she respected her, but she was just downright terrifying. Perhaps they didn't hear me. The idea that no one would have heard her was undoubtedly ridiculous - but that didn't stop the computer tech from waving emphatically at her former crew mates.

Location: Station Commons

The awkward encounter with Holliday was already forgotten as Moira approached the commons, her mind focused on the rendezvous ahead. She went over the expected motions in her head; she'd put on the red scarf as a signal for her contact, so it was up for them to approach her. She didn't expect to be asked any questions about why she was looking for hearing aids in the black market, but just in case, she'd prepared a sob story involving a cousin's daughter (it had initially been a niece, until she'd remembered that Moira Chambers was supposed to be an only child).

The announcement blaring out of the station intercoms made Moira stop dead in her tracks -- or it would have, had the people around her not suddenly picked up the pace and packed together like a herd of cattle on the move. She thought about resisting the pull of the crowd, but then allowed herself to be swept away. There was no need for her to panic; as far as anyone else was concerned, she'd just been taking a walk when she got caught up in this madness. She trusted her contact was already making themselves scarce. They'd just have to touch base later.

Moira did her best to maneuver her way through the frantic crowd, hoping to get away from the commons as quickly as she'd arrived, preferably with as few bumps and bruises as possible. She was doing well until a hulking brute of a man plowed his way past her. He was swinging his arms around with such wild abandon that he elbowed her square in the jaw, and the force of the blow sent her staggering backwards, her back bumping against someone. Meanwhile, the offender powered on without so much as a glance in her direction, either blissfully unaware of or indifferent to the damage he'd caused.

Clutching her throbbing face, Moira turned to apologize to the person she'd collided with. She looked up to meet a familiar pair of blue, insufferably playful eyes, and her heart sank. No. Not him again. This couldn't be happening. He had to have been following her, right? Or was her luck really this lousy?

"Excuse me." She pretended not to recognize Holliday (painfully aware her bluff had zero chance of succeeding) and averted her eyes as she tried to push past him. When she spoke, she tasted blood; a quick brush with her fingers confirmed that the blow she'd taken had split her lip. Great. It was a trivial injury, but for some reason, having Holliday witness it made her chest tighten with humiliation -- as if a man twice her size casually elbowing her in the face was something she should be ashamed of.

As Holliday coped with the realization that his pocket had been pristinely picked, someone was pushed into his back and nearly knocked him over. He almost said something to the offender, then saw the size of him, and wisely shut up until the guy was far enough not to hear. "Yeah, you keep going." He shook his head and turned to see who it was that had been pushed into him and saw Moira.

What were the odds?

Without hesitation, Holliday produced a handkerchief from... somewhere and held it to Moira's lip. Invasion of privacy or chivalric gesture; you decide. "Hey. Fancy seeing you here. We need to stop meeting like this. Of all the gin joints in all the 'Verse..." His eyes fell into hers. "Did I cover them all?" Ensuring that she had a hold of the cloth for her bleeding lip, Holliday took a step back before she caught feelings for him and before she got blood on his shirt.

Too late.

He groaned and saw a small blood stain on his shirt, licked his finger, and tried to smudge it out. "Dammit." Holliday looked up from his ruined shirt and smiled again. "So what were we saying about those odds? You know, being together like this, again." The odds were, in fact, exactly zero, as Holliday had planned it all along. Because of course he had.

"You can keep that, by the way." He said, indicating the hankie.

Location: Station Commons

Moira did NOT want Holliday's handkerchief -- God knows where it had been -- but accepted it just to get his nicotine-stained fingers away from her face. She pressed it gingerly against her lip and side-eyed the man as he prattled his list of bad noir cliches. She remained unamused.

"You can keep that, by the way."

"That's very kind of you." Her tone was cool, but not completely rude.

"You shouldn't rub blood stains like that," she nodded towards his shirt, which was now a notch less salvageable thanks to his half-assed attempt. "If you go soak it in cold water right now, you might still get it out."

Maybe that would give him a reason to get off her back -- although her plans, much like Holliday's shirt, were ruined either way by the sudden federal intervention. Speaking of which, should she be worried about the shakeup? She found herself oddly unmoved, even as the people around them continued to scamper to hide their illicit business endeavors.

Holliday grinned. "You want me to take off my shirt?" He knew she didn't, but she'd left the insinuation dangling and he was never one to leave bait untaken. He glanced around as the causeway emptied, leaving the two of them alone. That was unfortunate. He'd been hoping to conduct his business in a crowd to avoid being noticed by anyone watching.

His eyes fell on Moira who seemed to want to be anywhere other than standing in front of him. Holliday may have been a fool, but he wasn't an idiot. She didn't like him. She'd been crystal clear about that. Holliday wasn't sure he liked her either, even though she was objectively beautiful by every metric in the book. Unless you didn't like shortish redheads with clear skin and big eyes. Or women at all. Or maybe if you were blind and only judged her based on her closed-off, terse personality. But maybe that was just how she was around handsome guys like Holliday.

The lack of crowd was doubly regrettable because now Moira had no reason not to shout at him. He pulled his cigarettes from his pocket and lipped one from the pack. It hung there unlit as he spoke. "The scarf is a nice touch." Her lip seemed to be clotting, he noticed. "I feel like you didn't appreciate my references, you know, to old stories. Gin joints and the like." He raised his lighter to light the cigarette, but continued speaking instead. "But a red scarf? That's textbook. I mean, maybe it's not a red rose to get noticed in a crowd, but it's pretty close."

Holliday waited to see if she would get it and how loud she would yell.

It took Moira a beat to fully process what Holliday was getting at, followed by another beat of stunned silence before her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, her icy glare giving way to something more seething, if equally disdainful. She yanked the scarf from her neck and stuffed it in her back pocket.

"Is this how you prime all your potential buyers?" Fortunately (disappointingly?) for Holliday, Moira did not yell or even raise her voice. However, the pink blush creeping up her cheeks betrayed the fact that he had, finally, managed to tilt her. Moira could feel the tell-tale warmth on her face, and she hated it. After all the work she'd put into learning to stay cool under stressful circumstances and cultivate a stoic exterior, this simple, stupid, involuntary bodily function could still give away her human weakness, a biological chink in her armor. Daniel had gently teased her about it when they'd first started dating, although her reasons for blushing around him were very different from the current situation.

And yet, Moira felt an odd sense of relief, because as clear as it was that Holliday got a kick out of toying with her, now she knew he a legitimate reason to want to talk to her in the first place, and she had a topic she could steer the conversation back to every time he got sidetracked. Of course, she would have preferred to deal with someone less... him, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

"This isn't a good place to do this." She looked around at the commons, which seemed to have emptied out almost entirely while they were talking "Maybe not the right time either. Depends on the scope of the shake-up and how fast they find what they're looking for..."

Should she be worried?

Speaking of begging but not choosing, Holliday went to a nearby table and righted the overturned chair to grab a seat. "Here's fine. Believe me." He regarded a bowl of noodles discarded in its diner's hurry to hide from the Feds. Still warm. He shrugged and picked up the chopsticks and began to eat. Around a mouthful, he explained, "I know the guy who makes these noodles. Close, personal friend. Be a shame to let them go to waste." Sensing Moira's nervousness, Holliday gestured for her to join him at the table.

"Listen, I know for a fact that whatever the Feds are doing here has nothing to do with us and everything to do with my chief competition and the reason that you're so skittish: Lil Sebastian. So his eyes are elsewhere. And nobody else is here, either." Which was true. They were alone in the commons, for now. A thought occurred to him, which made him smile. "Unless you want to come back to my place." He took another bite of the noodles and savored their flavor. "You can meet Gary."

The noodles caught his attention again and Holliday focused on a particularly satisfying slurp, chewed, and swallowed. "So the implant you wanted, the cochlear thing, that's a tricky thing to get-" He caught himself. "-which I totally could-" That was close. "- And expensive. Honestly it might be easier to just go to the Core. But you don't want to do that, or else you wouldn't be talking to me. I'm guessing money isn't the issue. Med staff here could probably do the procedure- I'm no doctor but I probably wouldn't recommend it. So what you need is a surgeon and a surgery... place." Back to the noodles to let Moira stew on that for a second or two of dramatic silence. Without looking at her, Holliday said, "But I have an idea." He smiled and looked up at her. "It's risky. A little crazy. It might work. But we'd have to talk it over with your... uh... friend? The cute one."