lysistrategic

"Peanut," Joan repeats, testing the word against the feel of the small computer she'd lifted to cradle on her palms, with a hint of soft amusement in her tone. "It's not something I would name a computer." A word came to her, one she'd written many more times in her notebook than she'd thought of it in years. "We'll call her Nittany, like Nittany Lions." She glanced at Dairine, shrugged lightly and smiled. "The mascot for my alma mater. Also, apparently made up on the spot. I think it's fitting."

She set the computer down again and spoke to it, expression mildly quizzical. "Nittany, how do I view my file system?"