"You'd be happier if I had wet dreams about you?" The joke was asked in a tone that would not mistake any intentions on his part. The last thing he needed was Leah hitting him in the head and giving him another concussion. "Your dream self is in perfectly good hands, I promise. Most of my kills are completely merciful," he nodded sagely with a totally wry smile.
Leah's quizzical look was met with a whimsical one from Evan. "Brain damage and an improved outlook on life, apparently," he mused as he raised his eyebrows in a shrug. "Impossible to please does sound more like the Leah that I know and barely tolerate, though, so there's that," he added with a little chuckle. "O'Brien does not know what he's in for," he joked dryly, rolling his eyes dramatically. "It would also help if I had any intentions of pleasing you, so there's that at least."
"I call it some kind of sweet revenge," Evan responded to her rebuttal with a single shouldered shrug and a little grin. "The world screwed us over so spending any amount of time together is kind of just-dessert-like, don't you think?"
Just as quickly as his annoyance had appeared, it was gone. He looked at her with a chuckle when she continued the topic of ice-skate sparring. "Any kicks have the potential to be completely lethal, though. It also brings to my attention the fact that I haven't ice skated in years. Clearly I need to practice before we put this into action," he said, faking an expression of thought. "My clumsiness will not do me credit in this situation."
He nodded his head once in understanding and looked at his hands. "I can understand that. Neither of them are totally beneficial to a long and healthy life, but I can agree that verbal brazenness is generally preferable."
He paused when she called his attention to the sketchpad and nodded once. "That and to ask you if you had anything to add, anything to suggest." Her input was obviously important, since it was her idea and she was leading this whole shebang right alongside him.