[ she appreciates politeness compared to all those passionate embraces that the soldiers attempted to force on her. She can hardly blame the soldiers of course but nor can she blame herself for punching them in the face for taking liberties.
It was an even trade off, in her opinion.
But the second she feels the slight kiss of confetti and a happy chirp from the bot above, she breaks the kiss and steps back, an easy smile on her lip as she glances at the lipstick mark on is cheek. ]
Thank-you, Mr. Weston. It appears as though we shall live to see another day.