Sam's eyes widened further and his hand went to his hip, where his gun was usually kept, even as the rational part of his brain reminded him that he'd removed it before he came here.
"What the frak?" He hissed. "Are you a Cylon? You don't know anything about me, I'm not some frakking machine alright? I kill those frakking toasters."
She may have looked small, but he'd seen himself just how strong those skinjobs could be. Stronger, faster. Which possibly meant he was as well, but he hadn't exactly tested that theory yet.