Trooper Station, Saturday

[fjordicswagger]

You know, whenever this current crisis got solved - Tamsin felt the vikings could stay. They drank hard, didn't whine about their feelings, and they'd pulled at least three hilarious pranks on Ralph over the past 24 hours.

The one thing that could go, though, was the viking-era hovel the trooper station had turned into overnight. Okay, it was mostly just the furniture, but that crap was seriously uncomfortable and she hadn't exactly missed it this past millenium.

"This is all your fault," she informed their prisoner. "Why didn't we kill you again?"

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[erasesdebts.livejournal.com]

"I've told you," Booker said, "This wasn't my intention--"

Except he was talking to her back again. Damn it. He sank back onto his bale of hay. There had to be some kinda way out of here.

[becauseshesang.livejournal.com]

"Booker."

There was a lightness about Elizabeth now. The alien kind, spread out across so many versions of herself, all contained at once, contained by none and never.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I know you tried your best. You always do." She smiled faintly. "It's what makes you you."

She folded her hands over his. "But I have to undo what you tried."

She vanished.

[erasesdebts.livejournal.com]

He stared after her for a long time.

Then he looked down and saw that all his fingers were whole, every last one of all ten.

Shit.

"Elizabeth!"