He could feel her pulse through her wrist. She drew herself up and looked him in the eyes, which was awful because it made him want nothing so much as to pull her in and curl himself into her, and obviously this was the wrong place for that. He didn't even want to kiss her or touch her so much as he wanted to hold her, to be convinced of the reality and solidity of her, but they were still an elevator ride and a trip across the Atrium and then half a house away from real sanctuary.

"Or you could burn it all and start fresh," he quipped. "Some of the law enforcement had the smell you might expect of the unwashed masses. And it's not as though your wardrobe was the cutting edge of fashion, anyway. It'd hardly be any great loss."

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