"All kinds," he agrees. With what he's seen of the city so far, those pearls she's wearing would probably be the first to go. Or, what they'd try to take. He's no thief, at least not these days. That was a different story back in Baltimore, when he was just a kid himself, and he was the muscle, working whatever job the crime bosses asked of him. Some parts of this place remind him a little of those days, and he knows people like that. Knows what they're capable of.

Some kind, some wicked. So, yeah, she knows it, too.

He's not in the business of doubting someone when they say they know what they're capable of, and she sure moves like it, acts like it. The scene before him is a strange one, maybe, with a fire going on in the middle of a hotel room like it is, but she has command of the place, and what feels like an easy confidence as she sits and stirs her soup. Stirs it with —

— okay, now, he was planning to just walk away after this, figuring his brief curiosity had run its course, that he'd seen what he needed to see. But now there's this. So he doesn't step closer, keeps his distance, but leans against the doorjamb. All the while, he keeps alert to anything that might be moving in the shadows behind him.

"How'd you do that?"