quicklog: connie/ben
[Connie was kind of amazing at having good timing. A perfect five seconds after he typed his response, a work email pinged into his inbox. It said in very formal font:
Connie Gunster has requested your assistance in her lab, Chrome-3-6-4. Please make your way for science related reasons.
Warmly,
Doctor(?) C. Gunster
Her lab had upgraded from a hall closet to a full on two-tier place of science. Under the door, a blue light glowed softly and inside the whir of computers mixed with lofitriphiphop could be heard. Connie cracked the door open so she could see him coming down the hall and poked her head out.] Did you bring your goggles?