"Don't ask me," Finn laughed. "Leg bone, arm bone, if I've got it I've probably nearly cut it off at some point," he said. When she snickered that sharp grin of his lit up again, and he shook his head. He had not the slightest problem with her unladylike reactions, as a matter of fact he found them reassuring. He generally ended up offending, alienating, or boring prissy women.
The mask slipped on quickly, but Finn was sharp when he was paying attention, and there was very little that he missed. He could tell that she really had wanted a genuine answer, and maybe if he'd been someone else he would have given her one - explained to her that he wasn't sure what he was feeling, at the moment, except that he liked her being where she was and that he wasn't sure it was all that casual a feeling. But nothing with Finn was ever that easy, nor likely ever would be. He needed to know his own mind inside and out before he would give anything away, and he also needed to be much surer of hers. He wanted her to ask as if it wasn't a joke, and he was willing to wait if he had to.
"Shit, not the Baby Mafia. The kind of projectiles they use are way worse than bullets, I'm imagining," he winced. "But I'm still pretty sure I'm okay with the risk, sorry."