[He leans to look over his shoulder at her, sliding the cigar between his teeth. Then, silently, he turns back.
She looks nothing like him - that slight, dark-haired teen who'd been all but swallowed by the James' helm - but for a moment, he thinks of him. And he finds that, no, he doesn't actually mind.]
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She looks nothing like him - that slight, dark-haired teen who'd been all but swallowed by the James' helm - but for a moment, he thinks of him.
And he finds that, no, he doesn't actually mind.]
It's a free station.