(no subject)

Picture it: a bar, at the end of the universe, warm and cheerful and filled with the quiet murmur of voices. At a table in the corner, specifically set aside from all the other patrons, is a blonde, pretty teenager.

Or maybe that scene is a little too broad for a bar like Milliways.

Add in a scowl and a National Geographic.

Rachel's wondering if there'd be any point in making it out of somebody's door to a zoo. Though she's finding there are depressingly few animals that don't already have memories attached.