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[littletonoidea]

"This is the audio log of Communications Officer Doug Eiffel of the-- previously of the U.S.S Hephaestus, leave a message and I'll see if I can bear to drag myself away from whatever utterly engaging task I must be doing to not notice my comms--"

BZZZZZZZ

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[cactusy]

"I just don't get the Lovelace stuff," Shaw says, turning back to the stove once the cat walks off. Don't mind her if she just starts plating this food, boys. "Is she okay or not?"

[littletonoidea]

"Well, the original Lovelace is dead," he explains steadily. "Because her shuttle flew into the freaking Wolf. But apparently the Listeners got enough of her DNA and brain waves and her goddamn shuttle to make perfect one-to-one replicas and shoot them back to the Hephaestus to be our captain again a few years later."

[conning]

"That's awful," Neal says quietly, a little ill at the thought, even as he puts together breakfast plates according to his siblings known preferences and vices.

"I can't imagine how it felt for her to find out."

That's not even touching the tragedy of the first woman's death, the strange horror of being recreated and replaced with no one to mourn her.

[cactusy]

Once Neal comes over to help, Shaw scoots to the side, giving him free rein. She'll snag one more piece of bacon, then head back over to the couch, picking up the blanket that's supposedly hers and looking at it skeptically.

"Unless she already knew from the start. Caffrey, why does this thing weigh fifty pounds?"

Give or take.

[conning]

"It does not weigh fifty pounds," he says dryly. "I'm not going to give you a weighted blanket that's heavier than you are."

[cactusy]

"I could flip you over with one hand," Shaw says, conversationally.

[conning]

"If you do I'll spill your breakfast."

[littletonoidea]

"Please don't waste the breakfast, I'm goddamn starving," he points out lightly, leaning back in his chair to make grabby hands for his plate. "But yeah, the Listeners didn't exactly see fit to give the captain instructions on what the hell she actually was, so she was surprised as the rest of us when she popped back up like a daisy."

[cactusy]

"Oh."

Shaw holds the blanket in her outstretched arms, then drops it down onto the couch, mostly just to see if it makes a big whomping thud when it hits the cushions.

"That sucks."

Eloquent as always.

[conning]

The plate Neal puts in front of Eiffel has waffles laced with a cinnamon-sugar blend that tastes like nothing so much as Cinnamon Toast Crunch, particularly when as perfectly crisp as they are. He's also got bacon, two biscuits, and there's an assortment of biscuit topping options already on the table.

Shaw gets a similarly loaded plate, and they both get fresh pour-overs.

He sits opposite Eiffel with his own coffee.

"From what I remember, your employers must have been..." He presses his lips into a tight line while he finds a word. "Intrigued, when that came out."

[littletonoidea]

He spears the waffle a little bit aggressively with his fork. Which says a lot in and of itself.

"Well, the first time we confirmed contact with aliens, Hilbert was under orders from them to dispose of us," he comments sourly, taking a bite of his waffle and continuing with it stuffed in one cheek. "And the whole reason I had the Stepford collar on was 'cos they already ripped the information out of my brain and needed to keep us all alive and well-behaved while they waited for the next contact event."

[cactusy]

"Hey," says Shaw, looking intently at Eiffel over her plate of food as she sits down on the couch. "Offer's still on the table for me to kick some asses for you."