Right, this was beginning to get annoying. When the woman reached for his face, Sam took a sudden step back. He didn't know her. Why was she trying to touch him? That violated every last one of his personal space rules, particularly when the gesture was coming from someone he didn't exactly enjoy being around. "It would be most appreciated if you didn't do that again, miss," Sam expressed, barely suppressing the growl of annoyance in his voice. "And I'm not terribly sure on how either of you could know anything about the scarring on my back, but it has nothing to do with me being killed." He was sure of it. He hadn't been killed. If he'd been killed, he'd have remembered it, right?
"As for you." He turned to look at Ben, arching a single disapproving brow at the boy. "I do have people here that know me very well. Kennedy, all of the Hyperion. Even her poor excuse for a husband, Jack. Every person here knows who I am. I have all the support that I need to prove that I am indeed a Watcher." He straightened the collar of his shirt, shoulders rising up proudly. "And a good one at that. Now, I do remember agreeing to come and talk to you about all of this, but it seems to me that your evidence is proving to be...well, to be quite frank, it's terribly lacking. So if you're quite finished wasting my time, I think I'll be on my way."
Kennedy needed to be trained. And he needed to be working on an awful lot of research. The time he took out for these two lunatics had been more than enough as it were.