Don’t you have something to do? (Sin) If not for the fact it would result in your breaking every bone in my body and making me cry for Mommy, I’d be calling some cops. As it stands, I think my neck is best served by trying to talk sense into you. (Kish)

Life only has the value a person gives it. If I killed you here and now, yours would be worthless and no one would mourn you. Is that really what you want? (Sin) I don’t own my life. It means nothing to me. (Kish) Then it means nothing to anyone. But if you had your life again, would it still be worthless? (Sin)

Call me Buffy. I’m even blond, but don’t ask me to wear a halter top. Or corset.

Now you know I’m a reporter, so you might as well answer my question truthfully, or I’ll just keep asking it until you lose your mind. (Susan)

Nick, fetch my car, fetch my clothes, sweep the chimney, make my bed, watch my psychopath, fetch my slippers.

If I hurt you, you can kill me. (Syn)

She would try picturing him in his underwear, but that was even more disturbing since all it did was make her hot and even more nervous… He had to be the only man alive who could pull off intimidating in his tighty-whities. God, what if all that massive hotness was commando?