"I can usually make things turn out near enough to my way," David confirmed, with an enigmatic if slightly mysterious smile. If nothing else, knocking someone permanently unconscious tended to make them leave you alone; the last few months here had allowed him to become the pleasant person David always wanted to be, but the years of harsh choices were never very far behind.
Far enough, though, for the moment. Reaching out with one hand, he lightly poked Arla's foot with one finger -- her foot proper, not the webbing, because the reaction the only other time he'd touched that had either been pleasure or pain, and David wasn't particularly inclined to risk the latter. There'd been enough of that lately. "Are you planning on actually getting in?" he inquired. "Or just standing around looking pretty and giving me a crick in my neck?"