"The toughest locks are on those goddamn indestructible fire doors," Saturday grouses, with the tone of someone who's used to being able to literally power through any obstacle. "At least, those are the only pure electronic I've seen, everything else has mechanical even if there's a keycard."

She smiles faintly, casting about for anything else that looks useful. "You said something about index cards earlier, I think? Found a bunch down here. My pops figured, he'd gone to all the trouble of teaching me, wasn't fair to expect me not to try anything. So there were rules an' as long as I followed them and got home by midnight, you know." She shrugs. "No problem."

The problem had come when he'd officially let her off the leash, and she'd gotten into the shit out of - she does, visibly, wince remembering it - pure fucking arrogance, when you get right down to it.