“You here tomorrow, Gidge?”
Mia raised an auburn eyebrow, the coppery brown of a worn penny-cronoson, a shade or two darker than the fiery mahogany of her hair.
“It’s an Old Earth term," he started to explain, but she squirmed out of his arms to click the computer keyboard.
“Gidget?” she squeaked. “Girl midget?”
“Well, you only come up to here on me, Shortcake,” he shrugged, and drew a line at his clavicle.