Genevieve nodded. It made sense, but a personality matrix built for humour, subtly in order to create a sense of camaraderie was certainly more than she was capable of. It took some serious skill. She watched the little robot wheel away. She definitely still wanted to take it apart, but it was probably best to let it go and lead its little robot butler life without her pinning it down and taking it apart.
Horatio, less easily distracted than Genevieve stood up as he realised that Chip was upset. "I'm sorry," he said, a few steps taking him to where Chip was sat. He hovered there, unsure of what to do to help. "It must have been so difficult, spending these years without them. It's different for us, as time travellers of course. There's points in time where my father is alive, and there's points where he isn't. I joined the T.T.A in 1913, same year he died. You can go back, but there's only so much you can get away with, eventually you look too old to get away with direct interaction, but even before that there's something static. You can't be any different, they can't know how you've changed. It becomes like talking to a picture." Horatio sighed slightly, meeting Chip's eyes. "I know its not quite the same, but I think I understand a little bit." He gently rested his hand on Chip's shoulder for a moment before moving away.
"Chip, you ought to get some rest," Genevieve said softly. "Your work can wait for one day. I literally just rearranged your insides and I wanna make sure you're recuperating." She offered them a small smile, her blue eyes wide and imploring, framed by her dark lashes. It was an expression that Horatio, in his less formal moments, called "the puppy dog eyes of doom". "Please?"