How is it that I could run into a gunfight against overwhelming odds and put myself between bullets and civilians, but I couldn't scrape together enough courage to speak to the one person who mattered the most to me?

Who is that?” “Your replacement.” “You replaced me with a shaved poodle?” “He's got mad skills.

He'd laugh in my face, then I'd slice him to ribbons and then he'd break my neck

On the plus side, if he ever had to fight through a roomful of adolescent girls, he only needed to blink (his velvet brown eyes framed in embarassingly long lashes) a few times, and they would all faint.

You know anything about investigative work?" "Sure. Annoy the people involved until the guilt party tries to make you go away.

I just had to stay cool. Zen. No punching in the face. Punching would not be Zen.

He raised his hand in a peaceful gesture. "You need to relax a bit, dove. Like Mouse over there. You trust me, don't you, Mouse?" "Nope!" "Ahhh, I'm hurt. Nobody likes me.