Mandy narrowed her blue eyes, her tongue running along the edge of her teeth as she stared back at him duly; she didn't really like that nickname, "No, a murderer wouldn't, but he wouldn't be able to move past the front door, Pence," she reminded, "If I don't have the smart mouth, who would?"
As he assaulted her with questions and quips and everything that had happened, she gave a sigh, "It's not early, it's luck. I could have been stuck out there longer. And we didn't have communication for home calls," she explained.
Her brows scrunched questionably at the mention of a ball, "Who threw a ball? Here?" she asked, turning around to face him as he helped himself to whatever he could find.