Sarah stretched out in the attic, every muscle aching, every nerve tensed and strained with exhaustion. She had spent the better part of the day lugging junk from the storage unit she'd hired to house Aunt Lavinia's things after her death to the house on Bannerman Road.
"Sarah Jane?" The masculine voice made her jump. The alien computer, Mr. Smith, had been growing, expanding at a rate that might have been frightening had she not already seen so much. He'd taken over her old laptop, then coached through a remedial course in computer technology as he invented himself into a supercomputer.
Each day, he was more than the day before. Each day, he showed another talent, another way to be useful to her new purpose.
"Sarah Jane?"
"I'm tired," she groaned, pulling a cushion from beneath her and covered her face. "I don't care about drivers and hyperthreading and accelerator boards and..."
"You're tired. My sensors have determined you are functioning at only 68% capacity."
"Do they?" She breathed in heavily. "I would have bet no more than 45%, meself. Take a break, Mister Smith." She tucked the pillow back under her head. "The lair is almost finished. I need a break before I install the the cave door for the BatMobile."
"I believe I can improve your efficiency."
Sarah frowned, looking up weakly at the place in the wall her new alien computer friend had appropriated. "What?"
To her utter surprise, Mister Smith projected a beam of pink light towards her. Before she could even react, the light engulfed her and an intense tingling began to spread through her body. Sarah gasped as the pink light penetrated her body, down to the cellular level, injecting her with tiny microbursts of energy.
The pulse ran through her, and she moaned slightly. The sound of her own voice embarrassed her, as did the involuntary writhing. "Damn," she whispered as the light dissipated. She couldn't be sure if she was damning her own reaction, or damning the fact that it ended.
"82%," Mister Smith reported, then went back to his work.
Sarah Jane caught her breath, staring at the ceiling in her wreck of an attic.
Sarah Jane/Mr. Smith
Sarah stretched out in the attic, every muscle aching, every nerve tensed and strained with exhaustion. She had spent the better part of the day lugging junk from the storage unit she'd hired to house Aunt Lavinia's things after her death to the house on Bannerman Road.
"Sarah Jane?" The masculine voice made her jump. The alien computer, Mr. Smith, had been growing, expanding at a rate that might have been frightening had she not already seen so much. He'd taken over her old laptop, then coached through a remedial course in computer technology as he invented himself into a supercomputer.
Each day, he was more than the day before. Each day, he showed another talent, another way to be useful to her new purpose.
"Sarah Jane?"
"I'm tired," she groaned, pulling a cushion from beneath her and covered her face. "I don't care about drivers and hyperthreading and accelerator boards and..."
"You're tired. My sensors have determined you are functioning at only 68% capacity."
"Do they?" She breathed in heavily. "I would have bet no more than 45%, meself. Take a break, Mister Smith." She tucked the pillow back under her head. "The lair is almost finished. I need a break before I install the the cave door for the BatMobile."
"I believe I can improve your efficiency."
Sarah frowned, looking up weakly at the place in the wall her new alien computer friend had appropriated. "What?"
To her utter surprise, Mister Smith projected a beam of pink light towards her. Before she could even react, the light engulfed her and an intense tingling began to spread through her body. Sarah gasped as the pink light penetrated her body, down to the cellular level, injecting her with tiny microbursts of energy.
The pulse ran through her, and she moaned slightly. The sound of her own voice embarrassed her, as did the involuntary writhing. "Damn," she whispered as the light dissipated. She couldn't be sure if she was damning her own reaction, or damning the fact that it ended.
"82%," Mister Smith reported, then went back to his work.
Sarah Jane caught her breath, staring at the ceiling in her wreck of an attic.
Her life was just far too weird for words.
Requests: One/Cameca, Alan/Andrea, K9/K9 Mark 2