Deborah Falken got up and stretched, arching her back and pulling her arms up over her head. A few of the boys were watching her-- more than a few, actually-- but she hadn't paid them any attention in months. The only "boys" she shared company with lately were her dragon Purpura, her independent study professors, the occasional friend who was usually gay or not human, and her father. And with none of them did she share anything more than company, with the exception of sharing her mind with her dragon and papers and tests with her professors.

Sitting beside her was Purpura, in his newly-learned humanoid form, and he rose after giving her exposed belly a poke. He hardly seemed like a "dragon", in the sense that one "owned" and looked after a dragon, like a tool or a very intelligent pet, like many non-bonded thought of a dragon-bond would be like. It was more like having a brother who was closer than any brother should be. At the very least, Purpura kept her tame rather than wild, to her father's relief.

Cedric Falken, her father and the Public Minister of Star City station, sat on her other side, but he hadn't risen yet. She'd managed to convince him to come to this hatching, the last "normal" one scheduled as public before the horrible xenodragon hatching which was expected a few bays down the line. It had been difficult, because Minister Falken kept himself so terribly busy with the affairs of helping to run a space station with the population of a small nation and keeping his many business ventures in line, but Deborah, his precious daughter, had managed to guilt him into it. He needed to take breaks now and then, but he rarely did.

"Did you see that pregnant woman?" Purpura asked conversationally, a faint smirk present in his voice. "I can't imagine having to raise a dragon and a baby!"

"I can't imagine raising either one," Deborah agreed.

"You raised me!"

"You raised yourself. Besides, you were well beyond toddler-hood when I met you, and hardly even a child."

"No children for you, eh?" Purpura snickered, poking her. Falken, chin resting on his interlaced fingers, glanced over them.

"We'll see," Deborah chuckled, though she privately doubted it. She wasn't sure if that would disappoint her father or not. It was rather obvious that he was often at war with himself when it came to her: between wanting his daughter to be grown up, and wanting her to still be his little girl. "Come on, Daddy, you promised me lunch after this, and most of the crowd has gone."

"I didn't promise any such thing," Falken said sternly, but he rose, anyway, with a little groan as he straightened. Deb wasn't sure, but she thought she caught a glint of silver in his short, sandy hair. She stared a little, struck by the impossibility of the thought that her father's hair might be going gray already.

::He's forty-six, Deb,:: Purpura said matter-of-factly, though not without sympathy. ::And he works too hard. What did you expect? That he'd live forever?::

::I never thought about it,:: she admitted to him. ::But he does work too hard... I wish there was some way to make him slow down before he gets an ulcer, or has a heart attack.::

::Or both,:: the Earth dragon added with a purely mental, teasing grin. Deborah gave his shoulder a swat, then followed her father down the line of the bleachers towards the hatching bay floor and the exit. Even though Falken hadn't promised them lunch, Deborah thought he'd probably take them, anyway.

To get to the large sliding doors out-- which were perpetually held open during a hatching-- they had to angle around the feeding tables and the cloud of discouraged sponsor-hopefuls who didn't end up with one of the two unbonded hatchlings this time around. One of the failed sponsors, a young woman with dark eyes and chestnut curls, actually looked at them as they passed-- and frowned. Not at Deborah-- she was used to being frowned at by pretty girls, though not usually off-station pretty girls-- nor at Purpura-- whose teal green hair and extra-bright violet eyes got plenty of odd looks-- but at Cedric Falken.

Falken didn't notice, but Deb did, and she frowned back, a little puzzled. Sponsors would know who he was, naturally, being the Public Minister, though few were actually introduced. They dealt with the Minister of Hatchings, Siche Four, unless they got into trouble or had political or business dealings with Falken. Deborah could think of no reason, though, why this would make a sponsor-hopeful frown at him in that speculative-- but quite non-romantic-- manner.

The young woman didn't catch up to them until they were well down the hallway outside the hatching bay, halfway to the nearest lift, and discussing where to go for lunch. Purpura had strongly vegetarian tendencies, despite being a dragon-- he chalked it up to being an Earth dragon and thus in tune with plants; Deborah said that he was bordering on the cannabalistic, then, and he poked her in retaliation-- but Deborah did not, preferring seafood when she could get it, and her father was actually partial to a "steak and potatoes" sort of meal. So, they were bickering good-naturedly when they all heard, coming up behind them, "Excuse me! Excuse me, sir?"

All three turned in surprise, but it was the Minister who answered; Purpura, still fairly young and looking even younger, didn't yet rate a "sir". "Yes, miss?" Falken asked politely, obviously expecting that he'd forgotten something that was being returned, or perhaps about to be accosted over some aspect of station life, if it were something "serious".

The stranger caught up with them and paused a moment to catch her breath; she apparently run to catch them up. "You are Public Minister Cedric Falken, aren't you?" she asked, looking up at him expectantly.

"Yes, that would be me," Falken agreed.

For some reason, that made the young woman shake her head and smile some. "Well, I'm Toshi, rider of black Shouraith, and I'm a Searchrider from--"

"No."

Not only did Toshi blink at Falken for the interruption, so did Deborah and Purpura. He was half-smiling, and the word had been gentle, but it was still firm-- and still an interruption. Minister Falken never interrupted people.

"What?" Toshi asked.

"I've been Searched before, my dear," Falken explained, which came as a surprise to Deborah. "I've had people tell me to go everywhere under the sun for a dragon. I simply don't have time."

Apparently that had been exactly what the young woman, Toshi, had been about to do: Search him, in the way that off-worlders collected candidates for off-world clutches. "But, sir--" she began in protest.

"Thank you for the thought, lady Toshi," Falken said kindly, cutting her off again. "You do your duty well. But, as I've told others before you, it simply wouldn't be a good idea."

And with that, he turned and continued purposefully towards the lift, as if eager to escape. Deborah was mildly shocked; for her father, ever the gentleman, that was downright rude. Toshi stared at his retreating back a moment before donning a determined expression and starting after him. Knowing how well that would turn out, if her father had already made his decision, Deborah grabbed her arm lightly to stop her. She shook her head, and gave a little grin.

::Come find us at deck three in about two hours,:: Purpura said silently for her, grinning wickedly, himself. ::We're on the first level, right on the bottom, at the corner of the fifth alley. We'll talk about this Search stuff for Deborah's dad, okay?::

Surprised, but catching the conspiratory air of this rather odd situation, Toshi nodded and grinned. Deborah released her, winked, and sauntered after her father. Purpura trotted after her, snickering to himself. ::Well, you did want something to make him stop working so hard,:: he said silently.

::And I think a solution just dropped into our laps,:: she answered with a smug little smile.