Dragonsbane belongs to me. Bluestreak does not.
Bluestreak rapped lightly on the door. When no-one answered for a long time, the Datsun tried again. It was movie night again, and it was Dragonsbane's turn to choose the subject matter. But the femme still had the DVD disk, and Bluestreak had been kicked out of his comfy seat in the rec room to go retrieve it. His hand reached for the door chime, but before he could press it, a voice called through the door.
"Sorry, sorry, come in!" Bluestreak keyed open the door and stepped inside. Dragonsbane's quarters were a mess – Spike might say she'd been struck by a 'bedroom tornado'. Data pads were stacked on top of massive notebooks covered charcoal dust, and stack upon stack of human-sized paperback books with footnotes sticking out the sides were strewn across the floor. But what really startled the tracker were the seven huge rolls of paper sitting on the recharge berth. The femme herself could be heard rummaging through something out of the Datsun's line of vision. Occasionally, though, she would toss a stylus or data pad over her shoulder and out onto the already crowded floor.
"Don't mind this," she called, tossing a Greek mythology data pad across the room. "I'm jus' looking for something. Th' movie's on the bed..." Her sentence trailed off, distracted as she was by her 'important' searching. Bluestreak picked up the colorful disk case but hesitated at the threshold.
"Um, Dragonsbane?" He asked. Dragonsbane waved one hand above the recharge berth in acknowledgement.
"Yeah?" She acknowledged him without looking back. Bluestreak looked round.
"If you don't mind me asking, what are you searching for?" Another data pad flew through the air.
"A schematic I drew out a while back. I thought up a new alteration and wanted to change it. Aaaarrrrgghh! Where the slag is is!" Bluestreak scanned the room. All the places the femme had looked were turned upside down. The only spot in her room that looked normal was the recharge berth...
"Could it be one of the seven on your recharge bed?" he asked. The femme's head popped up into view. She stared at the rolls of paper for a long moment.
"...Awwwww, slaaaaaaaaag! I hate it when I do that!"
Very short...then again, it's just meant to be a fun little thing. Constructive criticism is still very much appreciated.