[She really is serious and his eyebrows go up a little when he realizes it. It's not that he's never been asked for an autograph before. Back before the Kerberos mission, he signed some shirts and model space ships for a chairty fund raiser - and he's heard that the price of those things went through the roof when he was listed as dead. But... even that was an unusual situation and he takes the journal from her with a slightly bemused look, glancing over the names already on its pages.
She keeps distinguished company. He remembers idolizing some of those names as heroes when he was a teen and his thumb brushes idly across one. And looks at the spot she's pointed to. A little awkwardly, and it has nothing to do with the color, he takes the pen and balances the book on his thigh.]
Am I supposed to write something along with my signature?
no subject
She keeps distinguished company. He remembers idolizing some of those names as heroes when he was a teen and his thumb brushes idly across one. And looks at the spot she's pointed to. A little awkwardly, and it has nothing to do with the color, he takes the pen and balances the book on his thigh.]
Am I supposed to write something along with my signature?