[ on the subject now, claire's head unconsciously sifts through memories of a city under siege by aliens, of captains and men of iron going to war in the streets of new york with the fate at humanity at stake. of an er she didn't leave for a week.

closer to home: a blind man capable of moving with more grace that the sighted, a woman whose acerbic wit was the only thing stronger that her arms, and a bulletproof man with a voice like butter. sweet christmas. ]

Well, you know. Gotta make your own good things, sometimes. [ she nods at the saucer between them, and the book. ] You were lost in your reading when it started. Something in there not sitting right with you?