Vincent, for his part, had thrown himself into the nearest non-carnal distractions available. Kristoff had left him with the impression he should wait for Andrea to approach him, and so he had. The Fantasticar had received a tune-up, without the benefit of heavy lifting equipment or it's repulsor-lifts. He'd spot-checked all the access panels for the security system, and then inventoried the kitchen, before moving on to vacation affairs.
He'd booked dinner and lunch reservations for each day of the trip as planned, that hopefully would satisfy everyone. (He was rather pleased with himself for getting Kristoff and Cassandra reservations for two at a table at Fulton's Crab House that held a record number of in-park proposals, so far as dining venues went. Just in case either of them finally decided to step up on the issue, the moment was available.) He'd also drawn up several activity plans, and made a better organized directory of park services, should they be needed. Internal debate continued on whether he should teleport the lot of them, fly privately, or take first class.
Right now he was making a list of possible luggage configurations. He was finishing up number eighty seven when Andrea walked in. The color fell from his face for a moment, then he put on a smile. "Hello Andrea, what can I do to you, for you?" He hastily corrected himself.
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