[When Mike starts out by blustering about the high cost of his work, that usually means he's inclined to back down and admit that it's possible he might indulge her, and... yep, there it is, like clockwork. Slightly warmed by this shift in his temper, Gen gets up from the booth with her drink (but not the cake, she needs to digest for awhile before she can tackle it again) and moves to sit on the stage steps. There's no flirtation in her posture this time - she's tired from a night without sleep and a day full of work and tension, and the careless splay of her limbs makes that very clear.

There may be a profound well of neediness beneath all her sharp, warning edges, but it's not all sexual. It's not even primarily sexual. That's just the safest offer for her to make once she trusts someone.]

You could make it a spybot, have it inform on me so you know if I break our deal. Like, I didn't even hurt anybody last night 'cause I didn't know if Helpy had cameras in his eyes or whatever - right, Helpy? I just burned some condemned houses, right? [She's telling the truth, which the pure woodsmoke smell she brought home also seems to verify.] So have one tail me all the time.