"Yes, ma'am," Luke said again, the words every bit as bright as they'd been before, despite the needle that had just been shoved in his arm and the injection welt it had left behind burning on the skin. His smile dimmed a few shades as the Marshal accused him of not taking his imprisonment very seriously (to be fair, he wasn't), but it was no less of a smile nonetheless. "You could cuff me," he suggested, in a tone that actually sounded reasonable, rather than joking. "I won't fight."
He extended his wrists as he walked to show that he was serious, but they dropped back down immediately when she called his music-making caterwauling. "I have a lovely voice Marshal!" he objected. "I never caterwaul."