The vent is not askew. The young woman keeps her hands in front of her face, and as Bart yells at her, slumps to the deck...apparently unconscious.

Bart gives the lump of coveralls a disgusted look. He then grabs the waif and tosses it one the bed. A quick frisk for weapons exhausts his patience, "Mouse!"

...Paris got up, a knee bracing herself in the small of Percy's

back. "Do

*NOT* move," she warned him with a wag of her finger, then got

to her feet and dusted herself off...

"Dammit." she straightened her blouse and ignored the loss of the button. "I just bought this blouse."

She glided her way into the cabin and looked at Bart--and looked at the slender young woman on the bed. "Oh, my."

The brunette looked up at Bart. "Let me guess, you'd prefer me to do the search--which I will, if you leave the cuffs."

"Cuffs?" his expression becoming more bewildered than normal. "Well Shit," he says as he slams open the hang up locker.

Paris rolled her blue eyes.

"Here," he slings a set of suspenders onto the bed. "I need you to watch her and him, " his head tilts to the hall.

"On it, thank you," Paris replied, catching the suspenders before they hit the mattress.

"When she comes around, find out if she was the only one. I'm going to secure the rest of the ship," he finishes moving to the hall.

"Will do, Bart," the Steward said, working towards looping one end of the suspenders around the unconscious girl's wrists, securing them behind her--and then doing the same to the girl's ankles with the other end, effectively hog-tying the stowaway. "Be careful."

Looking at Percy as he passes, "I need you to stay in your damn room till we've searched the ship."

"You heard the heavily armed gentleman, Lord Percy, get in here and sit down."

"Mouse, I like the new look. A bit of tit is always good for moral," he shouts as he runs back to the cargo bay.

Paris shook her head and, as she worked on tying down the girl, held her blouse as together as she could. "Dammit."