[Blake gives her a wry look as he touches the spot on his face that bore a nice bruise, a long time ago.] Yeah, those skinny girl arms pack more of a punch than you'd think.

[He tries to argue back. There's not much heart in it.] Most of everybody else is kids, criminals, or people who're half nuts. They need somebody with a level head to look out for them.

[The chair creaks as he settles heavily back in it.]

Yeah, well. That'd be somebody else. That's different.

[He knows it isn't quite different enough.

His mouth twitches.]

That's the nicest thing I've heard all day.