Rex was slinking around the library, gracefully and silently, like a latex-clad cat. Or perhaps that wasn't the most accurate description of him, given the slight stiffness in his movement, the fact that the steady rhythm of his ventilator eliminated any stealth and... he wasn't really wearing latex. It was more of a blend of-- nevermind. That was beside the point, since he had his coat on, anyway.

Still. Rex was slinking, skulking from shelf to shelf in pursuit of a particular text on theoretical engineering (from the ~future~ as well as what might have been an alternate reality), when he passed by Sherlock Holmes at the computer terminals.

And then, ten minutes later, book tucked under his arm, Rex passed the terminal again, finding Holmes rooted to the same spot, on the same screen.

"I suppose it isn't equipped with the most intuitive operating system," he remarked in an even voice, neither mocking nor offering any sympathy. It was just an offhand statement. "Just be thankful you don't have to navigate through MS-DOS." Old school, right there. Man, MS-DOS was almost like ancient history... unless you're Sherlock Holmes.