Al and Becky got into Jazz’s Bobcat and waited for the anthroform to find a stable position. It drove like a pig, but he could generally manage a litle get-up-and-go from just about anything with wheels and an engine. Al examined his commlink out of habit, not really thinking Preston would do anything mischievous to it. He reactivated his own special set of security protocols and reestablished its control over his PAN.
Settling in for the short drive, he turned to his companion. “Say there, Precious, could be I was fixated on yer other assets at the time, but I’d lay twenny-ta-one ya din’t have that ink on yer back when we took that little dip inna Pacific all those years ago.”