Allegra took the cig without hesitation. She patted her pockets for a lighter.
*It's not there. You said you were quitting.*
Ah. Right. With a mental shrug--quit once, start twice--she reached out and deftly caught Pacey's wrist with surprisingly callused fingers. Tagging his lit edge to light hers, she nodded in thanks. The entire exchange was fast, slick, and casual enough to look automatic.
"I think it likes you," she said when the hellcat didn't try to eviscerate the man. "Or is waiting for an opening to get at your throat. And, um, the monster's no pet of mine. I've just got a very...shrill conscience."
*I am not!*
"Downright piercing, actually. Y'know, that tiny blaring voice inside that just nags and nags?"