She blinks at that, face ready to move into real concern already, but did kill him gets a much more seriously alarmed and perplexed expression, her brow furrowing and eyes going wide. "He --"
"I need a stronger drink," she says, lifting a hand in stay right there and coming back with the dregs of her mimosa having been refilled into a screwdriver. She still sips it, but it at least feels more serious.
"Is that normal?" she hisses in an undertone. "I mean. Not people trying to kill him, him-- Well. Actually...Is that normal?"
It's selfish, but the first thing she thinks of is Kat, working for someone for whom people trying to kill them might be a common occurrence. It's quickly followed by all the horrific images of death and resurrection and being hunted she can conjure; how panicked Martin must have been, how horrible it must be to have known any of this without being able to tell it. She doesn't think it's unfair, anyway: Kat can't come back from the dead.
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"I need a stronger drink," she says, lifting a hand in stay right there and coming back with the dregs of her mimosa having been refilled into a screwdriver. She still sips it, but it at least feels more serious.
"Is that normal?" she hisses in an undertone. "I mean. Not people trying to kill him, him-- Well. Actually...Is that normal?"
It's selfish, but the first thing she thinks of is Kat, working for someone for whom people trying to kill them might be a common occurrence. It's quickly followed by all the horrific images of death and resurrection and being hunted she can conjure; how panicked Martin must have been, how horrible it must be to have known any of this without being able to tell it. She doesn't think it's unfair, anyway: Kat can't come back from the dead.