Today," she told it, "death comes to all your circuits. Will it be slow and systematic or fast and brutal?" Considering, she circled it, "Tough decision. I've waited so long for this moment. Dreamed of it."
Showing her teeth, she began to roll up her sleeves.
"What," Roarke asked from the doorway that connected their work areas, "is that?"
"The former bane of my existence. The Antichrist of technology. Do we have a hammer?"
Studying the pile on the floor, he walked in. "Several, I imagine, of various types."
"I want all of them. Tiny little hammers, big, wallbangers, and everything in between."
"Might one ask why?"
"I'm going to beat this thing apart, byte by byte, until there's nothing left but dust from the last trembling chip."
"Hmmm." Roarke crouched down, examined the pitifully out-of-date system. "When did you haul this mess in here?"
"Just now. I had it in the car. Maybe I should use acid, just stand here and watch it hiss and dissolve. That could be good."
Saying nothing, Roarke took a small case out of his pocket, opened it, and chose a slim tool. With a few deft moves, he had the housing open.
"Hey! Hey! What're you doing?"
"I haven't seen anything like this in a decade. Fascinating. Look at this corrosion. Christ, this is a SOC chip system. And it's cross-wired."
When he began to fiddle, she rushed over and slapped at his hands. "Mine. I get to kill it."
"Get a grip on yourself," he said absently and delved deeper into the guts. "I'll take this into research."
"No. Uh-uh. I have to bust it apart. What if it breeds?
Stichwörter: computer eve-dallas roarke
Who's with her?" Roarke asked, though he already knew. It was just like her.
"With her? Oh, ah, hmmm. Webster."
Silence fell, a clatter of broken bricks. Peabody folded her hands in her pockets and prepared for the explosion to follow.
"I see." When Roarke simply turned back to the screen and continued, she didn't know whether to be relieved or scared to death.
Stichwörter: peabody roarke scared-to-death
You saved me, Eve." He watched her blink in absolute shock. "What you are, what I feel for you, what we are together saved me." He kept his eyes on hers as he kissed her.
J.D. RobbYou tell Roarke you were tagging me for this? Or is he going to get riled up so I have to kick his ass again?"
"Oh, is that what you were doing when you had to be carried out of the room unconscious?"
"I like to remember it that I was just getting my second wind.
Stichwörter: eve-dallas roarke second-wind webster
He wanted to heave the glasses against the wall. Break them, break everything he could reach. Beat it, rend it. He stared out the window, imagined the city in flames, consumed to ashes. And still it wasn't enough.
J.D. RobbI didn't want to tell you I'd been scared, much less why. I guess that was stupid."
"It was."
"Aren't you supposed to say something like 'no, it wasn't. Blah, blah, support, stroke, let me get you some chocolate'?"
"You haven't red the marriage handbook's footnotes. It's another woman who does that sort of thing. I believe I'm allowed to be more blunt, then ask if you'd like a quick shag."
"Shag yourself
Stichwörter: eve-dallas roarke marriage-handbook
What's your status?" she asked him.
"Healthy, wealthy, and wise. What's yours?"
"Ha. Mean, crafty, and rude.
Stichwörter: eve-dallas roarke mean-crafty-and-rude
Hold on a minute." She leaned out the window, shouted at the messenger who'd nearly sideswiped her vehicle with his jet-board. "Police property, asshole. If I had time I'd hunt you down and use that board to beat your balls black."
"Darling Eve, you know how that kind of talk thrills and excites me. How can I keep my mind off sex now?
Stichwörter: eve-dallas balls roarke
Every minute with you, Darling Eve, is a minute to treasure."
She slid a glance toward him as she uncoded the seal. "You really do want sex."
"I'm still breathing, so that would be yes.
Stichwörter: breathing eve-dallas roarke
He stepped to her again, laid his lips on her brow. "But I want children with you, my lovely Eve. One day."
"One day being far, far in the future. Like, I don't know, say a decade when...Hold on. Children is plural."
He eased back, grinned. "Why, so it is--nothing slips by my canny cop."
"You really think if I ever actually let you plant something in me--they're like aliens in there, growing little hands and feet." She shuddered. "Creepy. If I ever did that, popped a kid out--which I think is probably as pleasant a process as having your eyeballs pierced by burning, poisonous sticks, I'd say, 'Whoopee, let's do this again?' Have you recently suffered head trauma?"
"Not to my knowledge."
"Could be coming. Any second.
Stichwörter: children eve-dallas roarke
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