#scarsdale

"Point of what I'm sayin' - you can't do time without proper calculations."

"I... yes, I've heard but... yes. Agreed."

"So. Maybe I work with those schmucks on developing chrononavigational apparatus..."

"Work with? Of course. But... a guild?"

"A new guild usually starts out under a stubborn master in a... whatcha say - mother guild?"

"I believe so, yes."

"So, maybe I want to talk to them first. No offense, but - most of it is nocker schmoozing."

"Let's say this, then. I will support you, sponsor you, if you wish it, into a guild. You lay the ground work, if you wish, and let me know. Will that suffice?"

"Sure. In the end, I still stand on the work. Ain't that how it always is?" A sudden grin, all shark's teeth.

"It is." With real understanding.

A surprisingly affectionate snort. "Th'kid's okay."

"I will remember that. He certainly proved himself in this case."

"Good for him t'see some pretty boys that ain't momzers."

Both eyebrows up. "I appreciate that."

"Hey, I'm old. I get babushka privileges. I should probably get th'kid home, but I'll be back. Goggles can always track me down, if needed. Deal?"

"Deal."

She offers out a calloused hand.

The Count actually spits in his palm, and shakes her hand.

Another cockeyed grin, one firm shake and she releases. "Alright then. Stay sharp, Frankie."