Re: first class - baths
"I felt guilty, mister. Don't invalidate what I'm feelin.' I know about validatin' how people feel. Validatin' what people feel is what I do," she said, poke poke to his shoulder and a tug to the name tag that was clipped to the white shirt. She was a doctor. She didn't know a thing about medicine, but she was gonna pretend as good as she was pretendin' everythin' else. He hadn't seen through her yet, had he? And this was the most fun she could remember ever havin.' "Aww, gee, why are you disappointed in yourself?" she asked, forgettin' for a minute that killin' him had been the original plan of the evenin.' Maybe not forgettin' exactly, but she hadn't been countin' on somethin' that couldn't die. Even Mister J had to go back to the drawing board sometimes.
"Mister J is my fella," was the response to his question, and she said it louder than anything, her ears almost ringin' with it. But then she hung her head, pigtails flopping forward. "I ain't got a Mister J. I'm supposed to, but I don't, and I think it's important to know what it feels like to have one, or else I'm doin' it wrong. Do you got anyone like Mister J?" She was thinkin' that she shouldn't ask his opinion on things, but Mister J talked to B-Man all the time, didn't he? This wasn't any different.
She didn't consciously blink the gun away, but it was gone by the time he started talkin' about how everyone expected things of him, and wasn't that just the weirdest thing? "That's better than no one expectin' anythin' of you. It's no fun when everyone thinks you ain't good for nothin' much." When he cut himself off, she poked him with a gloved finger. "You're what? I didn't say you could quit talkin.'"
But his statement that he could be hurt was like pushin' the resume button on the game, and she giggled and bounced on her heavy boots. She woulda done a flip, just to show him she could, but there wasn't a lot of room, so she settled for puttin' on a real stern face, hand on an exaggeratedly popped him. "Get in the tub, mister."