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Summary
Carl clears his throat.
“Dr. Grace?” he says.
“What?” Grace snaps, not looking up. Carl stifles another laugh. He thinks Grace is cute when he’s so mad. Like an angry chihuahua. Only he knows that Grace is a little more dangerous than such a tiny dog.
“I’d like to hear more about how they used centrifuge to make butter during the Civil War. Want to go grab lunch and tell me?” Carl asks. He tries to sound nonchalant, like he’s not trying to cheer Ryland up and like he’s not trying to spend unsanctioned time with the scientist.
“I am a little hungry,” Grace says. He’s a lot hungry, but he’s also trying to play it cool in front of Carl. -
Bookmark Notes:
Some Astrofathers crack and Grace’s decent flirting - this fandom needs more of Grace making Carl flustered