The ex-lawyer snorted in amusement at the mental image that brought up, a vamp handing over a package of cookies so that he could live to suck another night. "Don't worry. Your secret is safe with me." And tucked away in mind for future reference. He might've switched sides but the moral ambiguity was ingrained deep within. He glanced over at her, eyebrow arching. "Well, I'm not going to stop you," he laughed, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smirk.
Petite, blond, and could kick his ass. Maybe it could be a type. "Next time I go getting into trouble, I know the first place I'm heading after."
He shifted, finding a more comfortable position, back against the corner where the back of the couch met the arm rest. "He just hasn't discovered the joys of having his ass kicked in that way." What was a little pain after all? "It's food. Practically a bartering system when your house became a hotel for potentials. I got Vi to take my turn at laundry by promising to tell her where Andrew hid his Hot Pockets."
He lifted a hand, waving it lazily before it draped across his knee again. "One of those blue moons right now," he said. "No, you're capable of not working. The rest of us just mess around more so you come off looking better."