Charlie, I think there are a few less painful ways to do that. [Her fingers meet his, curling around them to press the coin back into his palm. 149 is a nice, uneven number. Let him have the one.] So let's just stick to those for now, yeah?

Uh, no. [It's said with effort, like a parent scolding a child for trying to pass up their dinner for desert instead. Because really, she couldn't care less what happened to Marlowe or Talbot, or if the Order's party was crashed at all in the first place. The pair had their team beaten at every turn, and as far as she's concerned, they can go collect that treasure and whatever the hell else they want, so long as it's far, far away from her friends.] We were sort of preoccupied, what with dragging your ass out of there without getting us all killed.