Her fingers started to ache, wrapped as they were about the ties of the garbage bags she'd filled with so much debris from the Second Shift and Connor's office. Her tablet neatly tucked beneath her arm, Pauline stopped to shift a bag or two to her free hand now, and resumed her walk back through the hangar.

It would have been a lie to say Pauline did not wonder - and worry, just a little - about whatever might be happening in Connor's office this very moment. She was not so vain to believe the entire world revolved about her and her problems, and Ms. Larson... "Sarge?"... No, [i]Abby.[/i] Abby certainly seemed a decent enough woman at first glance, a good replacement for Lee Stanford.

Lee... Poor Lee. Pauline truly hoped Abby would not be near so exhausted as her predecessor by the time she finished [i]her[/i] Shift. There had been so many new white hairs creeping through Lee’s neat black hai-

Pauline’s pale blue eyes widened with surprise, and then delight, as her thoughts were so sweetly interrupted and the garbage bags easily lifted from her grip by a handsome young man with a brilliant smile who, at first hearing, seemed to be speaking some foreign language or other. But as she listened, hearing and understanding separated by the space of a heartbeat, Pauline realized this really was English – well, for the most part at least. And at the very least, anything that didn’t quite translate, she could pick up quickly enough in context.

“Well thank you so, Mr. Pumphrey!” Her hands suddenly freed, Pauline took back her tablet in one hand, the other reaching to be engulfed by the undeniably strong, work-calloused and surprisingly warm hands of this intriguing man. When she released his hand, the fingers of her free hand fiddled gently with the silver crucifix hanging about her neck for a moment.

“I’m Pauline. Pauline Weber, and I’m the… Well, I just found myself a job here in Hangar Six and I’m not even entirely sure there’s a title that comes with it. A… Training programmer I suppose? And hopefully one day soon, to be nearly as useful about the [i]Copernicus[/i] as you obviously are.”

Pauline tilted her head curiously, everything about the smiling man before her putting her instantly at ease, like a warm hearth in winter. “Were you down here helping Connor or Bill to clean up then Mr. Pumphrey? The entire hangar was left a right mess by the Second Shift.” 

Her brows knit in obvious disapproval as she nodded knowingly toward the especially stinky garbage bag he’d hefted onto the empty cart. “Well, as you can see, I suppose. And… Honestly, I have just [i]got[/i] to ask… “ 

Pauline’s voice trailed off slowly, suddenly remembering all the lessons in manners her parents had ever instilled in her. Perhaps she might seem too familiar, maybe even rude with her question – but no. No, everything about this man seemed about as wide open and free as the once grand and blue skies over the Great Plains. She was suddenly quite sure, he would not mind the question. 

“Where are you from? That accent of yours, the way you talk… “ Pauline laughed softly, a bright tinkling of a giggle that promised she was in no way making fun of him, but truly found Jack Pumphrey a genuine delight. “That’s like no corner of Wyoming state I [i]ever[/i] knew!”