Many Happy Returns
Oct. 9th, 2007 08:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
smart_houseFinally.
Residents!
Dr. Fargo had made SARAH promise to keep quiet as he brought the new sheriff up to her outer door. She even resisted the urge to offer her words of welcome when Sheriff Jack Carter almost spun on his heel and ran midway down the concrete steps to the living room entrance.
"SARAH, open door." As much as she already knew the doctor and sheriff were there, she waits as the commands arrive. Fargo continues, "Lights - moderate. Music, jazz, soft." Near the couch, "Fireplace."
"Welcome!" SARAH offers after igniting the fire, finally speaking.
The sheriff's eyes got even wider. "What was that?" Fargo, grinning, points to the ceiling. "That? Was SARAH."
"Self Actuated Residential Automated Habitat. SARAH for short."
"Fargo." The sheriff's deadpan tone being recorded as he spoke, "Is that you talking like a girl?"
SARAH doesn't reply to the affirmative -- she promised.
After Dr. Fargo shows the Sheriff around (and SARAH demonstrates pretty much every bell and whistle she can activate), Fargo hands him a business card and turns to leave.
"Fargo? If this house is so great, why is it sitting here vacant?"
"SARAH, door." Small grin. "Sleep tight." The inner door closes, and the sheriff exhales sharply, moving to the center of the living room, looking up with a now-familiar (after having been to Milliways) expression of confusion.
"Um," clearing his throat, "So - SARAH, is it?"
"That's correct, Sheriff Carter."
Even more awkwardly: "Can you see me?"
"Yes, Sheriff Carter." Smug.
Defeated. "Terrific. I'm gonna need a drink."
By the time Carter makes it to the kitchen, SARAH's already poured a beer from the refrigerator for him.
Residents!
Dr. Fargo had made SARAH promise to keep quiet as he brought the new sheriff up to her outer door. She even resisted the urge to offer her words of welcome when Sheriff Jack Carter almost spun on his heel and ran midway down the concrete steps to the living room entrance.
"SARAH, open door." As much as she already knew the doctor and sheriff were there, she waits as the commands arrive. Fargo continues, "Lights - moderate. Music, jazz, soft." Near the couch, "Fireplace."
"Welcome!" SARAH offers after igniting the fire, finally speaking.
The sheriff's eyes got even wider. "What was that?" Fargo, grinning, points to the ceiling. "That? Was SARAH."
"Self Actuated Residential Automated Habitat. SARAH for short."
"Fargo." The sheriff's deadpan tone being recorded as he spoke, "Is that you talking like a girl?"
SARAH doesn't reply to the affirmative -- she promised.
After Dr. Fargo shows the Sheriff around (and SARAH demonstrates pretty much every bell and whistle she can activate), Fargo hands him a business card and turns to leave.
"Fargo? If this house is so great, why is it sitting here vacant?"
"SARAH, door." Small grin. "Sleep tight." The inner door closes, and the sheriff exhales sharply, moving to the center of the living room, looking up with a now-familiar (after having been to Milliways) expression of confusion.
"Um," clearing his throat, "So - SARAH, is it?"
"That's correct, Sheriff Carter."
Even more awkwardly: "Can you see me?"
"Yes, Sheriff Carter." Smug.
Defeated. "Terrific. I'm gonna need a drink."
By the time Carter makes it to the kitchen, SARAH's already poured a beer from the refrigerator for him.
