Joanie was twitchy, even if she was trying to hide it, and Sam watched her carefully. He was sure it had to do with the goings-on in the Russian hellhole - she was acting like anyone who got too close was going to pull out a torch and set her on fire. "At least you were thinking of me," he said, raining kisses over her face and forehead - softly, so as not to disturb any bruises. "I didn't do much here either. Just got drunk. The building didn't eat me or force me to watch shitty Pauly Shore movies. It was business as usual."