( You avoid answering reasonable questions this much? Maybe she can't see it so good from her position, or maybe she catches it in the rearview mirror, but the fleeting expression that passes across his face is sort of a scrunched nose of consideration, a sway, a deadpan sort of yeah probably face that passes by in silence.

Someone with a lot of connections — yeah, he knew that. That's why he blew it up. The fact that she knows that is pretty interesting. Hell, it seems like she knows an awful lot more than any collar ought to know, considering they're meant to be pretty wallpaper, cooks, dishwashers, pets, things to play with or fuck. Not things you tell your secrets too. )

Trust me, ma'am, I'm not worried about waking up tomorrow.

( That's the only retort she gets at first, flat, gruff, utterly devoid of emotion. Whether he means he isn't scared, or he doesn't want to wake up, is entirely left for her interpretation. The truth lies somewhere in the middle, probably.

But the agitation mounts, and finally it breaks through sharply: )

It occur to you at any point in this whole rant that maybe I want the target on my back? That maybe I'm trying to attract a little attention on purpose? If I wanted to be subtle, even you wouldn't have known I was in there. You don't know what I do, so keep your opinions to yourself. Last thing I need right now is advice from somebody that somehow screwed up bad enough to become a bedwarmer.