Barney hadn't anticipated further conversation. Well. He had? But then he'd pulled out his blackberry and kind of forgotten that he had. It was like Twitter. It pulled you into a world and made you want to be a part of it. He so did love blogging after all...
"Hm?" he asked, when he heard what sounded like a question. His brow furrowed. "The kid got stabbed," he said, like it was obvious. "What, I was supposed to leave him there to bleed to death? Pffft," he turned back to the blackberrry. "Besides, the chick was hot, when she wasn't completely psycho. She balances out on the scale, I think."
He was, of course, referring to the hot/crazy scale. But there was no need to get into that here when there were two months worth of blogs to catch up on.
"She didn't give a name," he realized belatedly. And he hadn't really asked for one. "The kid was calling her Becky. Or not Becky. I think that was the problem, she looked like someone he knew and then she really wasn't." He shrugged his shoulders. It wasn't really his problem.
He thought about asking if he was bothering Simon by sitting here, lifted his head and opened his mouth like he was going to ask and then dropped it back to his blackberry again. He didn't really care. Simon could ask him to leave if he wanted, and he'd go. But this was a more likely place to pick up chicks than his own room, at the moment, so he'd stay as long as he was allowed to.