She matched his feral grin with a fierce one of her own. Clearly, Azabeth never met a challenge she didn't like. "Deal."
Was it any wonder she was slow to trust? How many friends of hers must have turned her in to the authorities, selling her out to save their own skins? And here he was, a Templar. Just because you were paranoid didn't mean they weren't out to get you. But she liked him well enough, and he was kind if eccentric, which was what made her lean forward and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, much like another time, not so long ago. "Well," she grinned into that space between them, "you were foolish enough to fall asleep with a known hustler in the room. Whatever you got, you deserved."