The joke was bad, but it had the desired effect and Brandon chuckled softly. It might have been a bad joke, but it was appreciated. "I'm sure I did with someone. I'm pretty sure I've got more fights under my belt than almost anyone around here. Except maybe Silas and Regan. I thank the whole 'being a cop' thing helped me out as far as that goes," he added with a little shrug. He nodded his head. "Yeah. More than I used to know, too. Sort of only learned recently, you know?" Necessity had commanded it, really. The mention of that guy, Ty, made a sort of unhideable flare of jealousy crop up, but Brandon tried to keep it under wraps. "That's good. We all need someone like that." He'd had Kelley, and to an extent, Leah had taught him some shit, too. "I don't think anyone's really strong enough to survive on their own anymore." The world didn't allow it.
Her answer was weird, and he had taken note of the lip bite before she started speaking. That didn't seem like something she usually did. But he didn't say anything, since he figured she'd do the same. "No, but she is your sister," he said instead. "And she is someone who depends on you." Someone she could depend on, too. "Just because she's not your baby sister doesn't mean she doesn't need you. If I said that about Kori, she'd have fallen the fuck apart by now," he added. "Didn't Vienna lose a guy, too? A boyfriend?" he asked. The father of her kid? "If that's not a reason to need her sister, I don't know what is."
A complicated system. "Doesn't that kind of contradict the point of a filing system?" he asked with a small smirk. Chicks would be like that, he guessed. Talking and making chick jokes, secret codes that dudes would never get. "I'll let you know. But it's mostly for the sake of keeping my mind busy." Keeping it off the fact that half this shit wouldn't be happening if he'd done his job to begin with.
"You can tell a lot about someone by their booze of choice," Brandon pointed out. "Vodka drinkers like theirs smooth, with a kick. Whiskey people like it with more of an edge. Worry less about flavor." He paused, then shrugged. "Then there's the gin drinkers, who like it dry, and are mixer people." Like Zimmerman and Alghren had.
Alghren. Right. Brandon nodded. "Yeah, okay. I don't know what she likes, though." He raked his fingers through his hair and breathed a slow breath of fresh air when they got out of the door. "Fresh air definitely feels good," he mused.
"You could, but it wouldn't make much sense," he joked with a little grin. "They're the best, we've got that on our side, at least. Everyone should be okay. That Samson guy is the perfect addition, too." The guy knew what he was doing. And since he was a geneticist, maybe they could get some answers about the origin of the random abilities. Or maybe even the virus. "Maybe we'll be learning some new shit soon."