I bought us back to our seats in the compu-cafe’.

She leaned back in her seat, exhaling deeply with a little “Phew!” to signify her level of astoundment.

[Sorry, dear reader. Zoe’s just given me an earful about how badly written that last sentence was. She reckons Dan Brown could’ve written it better. Ouch.]

“Well…that was certainly…eye-opening,” she said.

“So, are we agreed? That we are both time-travellers who have, by ginormous coincidence, crossed paths?”

“Yep. Can’t be denied.”

“Do you have any ideas about what we should do about this?”

“Uuuum…”

“OK, look at it this way. We both have all the time in the world. We may not cross paths again. Perhaps we should…I dunno…join forces?”

“And do what, exactly?”

“Anything.”

“Hmm.”

She took a minute to consider this proposition.

“Am I Batman and you’re Robin?,” she asked.

“More like I’m Simon and you’re Garfunkel.”

“Fuck that!”

“Alright, I’M the Crimson Bolt, and YOU’RE Boltie.”

“Much better.”

And thus, our companionship began…