"I mean. Ain't outta the question that someone poisons him with my blood or whatever, but, y'know." She shrugs. "...I don't have the energy I used to, chef. I really don't. I ain't about to go kick his ass if you say he's good. 's easier that way. I dunno what your voyage was like...but I got all the killing and dying outta me in mine. I'm tired. I'm done."

Pan to the stove. Fat to the pan. Time to make this kitchen smell unaccountably good until the onions and garlic fade away.

"...That said I can hold my breath for four straight minutes."