[L's passion is a strange thing, pure however it presents. One could be forgiven for thinking it's an attempt at seduction; maybe it's similar, maybe it's close to those to impulses and desires all roped together like a wreath.

All he knows is that it's so rare for people to smile at him like they know what he's thinking. He's too cautious to return it, but his gaze lingers.]

I wouldn't threaten to kill you... you're not on that list.

[As though, of everyone in Trench, he could easily kill whoever he chooses. He stands and stares, as she touches the sharp line of his jaw and her hand slides away from the angle.]

Tell another reasonable and cooperative soul, why he would share the name "Mercymorn" with John Gaius. I've just met you, and I care more about keeping your business discreet, than his.