"Hey."
The only other inhabitant of the turbolift turned to him. She smiled and replied. "Hello."
"So do you work in the building?"
"Yup, ninety second floor."
"Right. Well, I've only been here for a week, do you know of any good places to get lunch?"
The lady looked at him quizzically. Was that a hint?
"Harvey's does an amazing spiced frunetta if you're into that."
"Sure, I love spicy food. Where are they?"
"Fourty fourth floor. Which we just passed." They both laughed. "Any other suggestions?" he asked, his voice full of humour. Things are going well.
"Actually," she began slowly. "I was just going to get myself a coffee."
"That sounds great!" he said, barely giving her time to finish her sentence. Too rushed?
"My name's Concetta by the way." She extended her hand, thinking she ought to do this the proper way.
"Michael Harris." And he was so glad his hand wasn't sweaty.
Hot lead pinged against the hull of the speeder.
"What took you?" the ghost asked angrily, flinging himself into the co-pilot seat.
"What took me?" she retorted, as she gave full power to rear thrusters and they blasted away from the dark building. "Having a picnic in there were you? It was meant to be recon only. Now we have half the planet after us."
"Hey, it was all nice and quiet until you showed up!"
"Just shut up and get in the rear turret. We'll settle this later."