Dar studied the screen for a moment. "Two months," she answered.

"That's not possible," the other man next to Sir Melthon said. "We know it isn't, I'm not being a fly in the ointment here," he said, as Dar turned toward him. "We did a study to put our own network in. It would take over a year, and that's why we're looking to outsource."

"Two months, " Dar repeated, unmoved. "We have a certain degree of leverage."

The man looked at Sir Melthon, and shook his head.

"McLean, is this rot?" Melthon turned his head and peered at Alistair. "I don't need a load of hot air. I have a wife for that."

Alastair didn't turn a hair. "Nah," he said. "If Dar says two months, it's two months, and probably earlier," he said. "She rebuilt an entire networking center in one night, y'know. Reliable as the day is long."

The magnate snorted. "You willing to lay a bet on that?" he asked. "You do it in time or the whole deal is off, how's that for a bet?"

"Sure." The genial Texan didn't so much as glance at Dar. "But I'll tell you what, we do it in two months, and you toss in a contract for the rest of your network. How's that for a bet?"

Dar stood quietly waiting, gaining a new appreciation for her boss's always surprising wheeling and dealing side she didn't get to see very often. Usually she was pulling Alastair's ass out of the fire. This time, they were both playing a somewhat dangerous game of poker that was making the sales reps eyes bug out.

Sir Melthon studied the gray haired man sitting next to him, his hands resting relaxed on the table.

"Sir," the man next to him murmured, "this sounds dangerous."

"Hah!" the magnate barked suddenly. "Damn straight it does." He turned to Dar. "Well, smart mouthed woman, get to talking. We've got a bet on." He held a hand out to Alastair. "Good enough for you, McLean?"

"Absolutely." Alastair took his hand and gripped it firmly. "Dar? You were saying?"

Everyone turned back to Dar, and she collected her train of thought looking back at the screen. "As I was saying, the question is, how do we support this project until I can upgrade those pipes?" She illuminated two other lines, a pulsing blue one that landed in London, and another in Germany, with a heavy tracing of smaller, green lines between them. "Here's how."

"Wait." The man still standing near the screen held up a hand. "This is our premier product. We can't rely on a single line back to the States. What if it goes down? Even for--ah...two months?" His voice expressed extreme doubt.

Dar walked over to her laptop and put the control down, trading it for her keyboard which she studied for a moment before she started typing. "Here's the average response time across that circuit to our London hub." She enhanced the display, showing the statistics of the two links. "Here's what happens when it goes down." She executed a few keystrokes, and the blue line landing in London went dark.

"B..." One of Dar's own sales reps started to stand up.

The rest of the map fluttered, and then the pulsing settled down, the link into Germany growing brighter, and the lacing of green lines expanding to take up the slack. The response time counter, in its small box, remained steady.

Dar let the silence go on for a moment, and then smiled. "I like to sleep at night." She reopened the link and it surged back into place, the map giving that little flutter again. She glanced over at Sir Melthon, catching him with his jaw slightly open. He scowled at her and shut his mouth with a click. "So our proposal is that we will support your infrastructure from our Miami offices until a local hub is in place."

"With local staff?" The man near the screen rallied weakly.

"Of course," Alastair said. "Do you know how much it costs to relocate people from Oklahoma?" He chuckled. "I've told the boys here to get ready to move fast, and bring in as many good people as they can find."

"Hmph."

"We're expecting to start up a support center with at least one hundred people," David spoke up. "And Francois here is handling the logistics and distribution facility near Nantes."

The men looked at Francois, who merely nodded, keeping his fingers pressed against his lip.

"Hah!" Sir Melthon barked again. "What a pack of smart alecks you lot are." He turned to Alastair. "Lunch. Then we'll get down to pen and paper. I've had enough egghead chatter for the morning." He stood up and headed for the door, clearly expecting them to follow.

Dar chuckled and went to her laptop to shut it down. "You know what this business is like sometimes Hans?"

"Pig's tail soup," he answered succinctly. "But he does like you, of that I am sure," he reassured her. "It is mostly an act, yes? That Lord of the British empire loudness."

Dar closed the lid on the machine. "Wait until he sees Alastair's contract terms," she advised him. "That's mostly an act too, that Texas good old boy stuff."

"Ah." Hans got up and joined her as they walked to the door, the last to exit the room. "So it seems with the big shots acting, the truth of the situation then depends on you."

Dar held the door and smiled. "We'll soon find out."

"That we will."

KERRY TOWELED HER hair dry and paused in front of the bathroom mirror, regarding her reflection. She hung the towel around her neck and leaned on the marble countertop, wrestling with that age old question of women everywhere.

What to wear.

Normally, it wasn't much of an issue for her. She had work clothes, and she had casual clothes, and she had scroungy old rags in abundance. Twice as many as Dar, in fact, and she didn't often spend much time deciding which category to put on.

However, Kerry studied the pale, green eyes in the mirror.

"I think I feel like being a grown up tonight," she announced, putting aside the fleeting notion of wearing jeans to her speech. She finished drying herself off and put on her underwear, leaving the bathroom and crossing the carpet to where she'd laid out her choices.

Without hesitation, she lifted up the crisply pressed suit and hooked the hanger on the silent butler, sliding the jacket off and laying it across the seat as she loosened the silk, ice blue shirt and prepared to slip it over her shoulders.

A soft knock at the door made her eye the closed panel with some wariness. "Yes?"

"It's me," Angie's voice answered.

Slipping the shirt on, Kerry started buttoning the sleeves. "C'mon in." She glanced over as her sister entered, shutting the door behind her. "Hey."

"Hey." Angie dropped down onto the bed, leaning on one hand. "That's a nice blouse," she said. "So you're not going to go strapless?"

"No." Kerry smiled, finishing her sleeves and fastening the front closed. "I decided to present my professional side. Aside from not wanting to come off as a jerk, I always feel like I have a responsibility to encourage girls into IT."

"Really?" Angie's brows lifted. "Is it really that much a guy's world?"

Kerry removed her teal skirt from its hanger and stepped into it. "Well--" She tucked her shirt in and buttoned the skirt, then buckled the leather belt. "Yeah, it is," she admitted. "I think Dar is one of the few female CIO's, and our technical group is mostly guys, though we do try to recruit women."

"Try?"

Kerry went to her bag and removed her jewelry case. "Believe it or not, for some reason, women don't seem to gravitate to infrastructure." She took out a pair of favorite earrings and started to put them on. "I've seen great women programmers, project managers, service delivery reps, you name it. But high tech plumbers? Not so common."

Angie got up and came over, peeking at the earrings. "Ker, those are gorgeous," she said. "Can I see the other one?"

Her sister handed it over. She then retrieved her necklace and ring from the dresser and slid them into place. She brushed her hair out, glancing briefly in the mirror as the already drying, shortened strands settled around her face. "Sure is nice not to have to blow dry this stuff all the time."

"You like it short?"

Kerry took back the proffered earring and inserted it. "Yeah." She studied her reflection, and smiled. "I think it looks more sophisticated. Dar likes it. I keep trying to get her to cut her hair short, but she thinks she'll look like a punk."

"Mm." Angie got up and stood next to her. "Her hair's wavy, though. Your hair is straight. It might look weird unless it was really short," she pointed out. "I'm sure she doesn't want to look like a guy."

Kerry's eyebrow arched. She turned and looked at Angie. "Shaved bald she wouldn't look like a guy," she said, bluntly.

Her sister gave her a wry look.

Kerry made a face. "Sorry," she apologized. "I think I'm getting sensitive in my old age." She brushed her hair out again, feeling a little embarrassed. "Smack me."

"No way," Angie said immediately. "Are you kidding? I'm not hitting She-Ra. Not in this lifetime." She bumped Kerry with her shoulder. "Mind if I come along to the dinner? I know I wasn't in that class, but I'd love to hear you speak."

"I don't mind at all." Kerry was relieved. "I'd love the company." She finished her mild primping and reached for the jacket to her suit. "Thanks."

Angie followed her as she pulled the jacket on and tugged the lapels straight with an automatic gesture, reaching back to clear the short hairs in the back of her neck from the collar. "Is Mike meeting us after for dinner?"

"Actually--"

Kerry sensed a plot at hand. "Let me guess. He wants to come too."

"Well--" Her sister lifted both hands, as she watched Kerry slip into her mid heel shoes. "Why not? We know we don't have much time with you, Ker. Besides, if they start giving you a hard time, we'll gang up on them."