Yeah, I know. Terror Aerobics. Just wait until they get it at the gym. It'll be bigge than pilates. --Eve

Shane looked…pale. Pale and shaken and—how predictable was this?—pissed.

Are you in the car that's almost caused three accidents on North Vance?" Hannah asked. "Because I'm following you with my lights flashing, and whoever's driving isn't pulling over." "Let him go," Claire said. "Trust me. You aren't going to get him to stop." "Oh, God. It's Myrnin, isn't it?" "Tell that police lady to stop chasing me," Myrnin said, annoyed, from the front seat. "Really, I'm not THAT bad at this.

Claire signed. "Go ahead. And thanks. Oh, and be careful?" "Please. I am the queen of careful. Also, princess of punk fabulousness."

Oliver laughed - actually laughed."I like this new Claire," he said. "You should work her this hard all the time, Myrnin. She's interesting when she's forthright." Claire, possessed by the spirit of Eve, shot him the finger. Which made him laugh again, shake his head, and walk up the steps.

Parents had some kind of sin radar, Claire thought. They always called when you were in the middle of something you just knew they'd consider wrong. Or at least risky.

Rambo was a Green Beret," Hannah said. "Please. We eat those army boys for breakfast.