"Somehow I doubt that." She grins, imagining that the trouble he gets into at home is relegated to the more enjoyable, mutually satisfactory forms of debauchery she saw on the television, that he's told her about with a surprisingly laissez-faire attitude.

But she wonders, perhaps. She's assumed that people look at her and see the friendly exterior, the warm smile, and not the wounds. She wonders if she's as certain of what people see of her as she thinks she is.

Perhaps the same is true of him.

"Wake me up as soon as you're tired. There's nothing worse than a sleepy guard."