Lunch Time
Lunch time. The one time of the day when the hanger is...mostly empty. Just a few mechs here and there. Working through lunch because their behind. But Baz never has that problem. She’s never behind. Granted its because she can fix things twice if not three times as fast as the others here but....ehhh whose counting.Â
It’s a small ego boost. Getting to watch them bust their asses, while she enjoys the finer things in life. Like lunch. Lunch that mom is actually home this week to make. Which means a roast beef, homemade jalapeno mayo, onions and Gouda cheese stacked a mile high between rye bread sandwich. Oh and pickle chips. Can’t forget those.
          S c o r e.Â
A lunch like this deserves a much better view than her work bench, so she goes to find somewhere better. Somewhere better may or may not of course be just inside one of the docking bay doors. Nice view of the middle of no where landscape that surrounds HQ. Feet swinging off the edge, as she carefully pulls out her sandwich; giggling like a pre-teen that just got tickets to the latest and greatest concert.
