Ripley cast a look over her shoulder. "Oh for fuck's sake, who did Harry piss off this time?" She shook her head. "Stupid kid."

"He still trailing after you all the time, then?" Ami asked, pulling a face.

"I'm a fortysomething pilot with a reputation for breaking heads. Having some barely pubed rich kid looking at me like I'm an underwear model is just weird, even if he wasn't a complete waste of flesh." She cleaned the crabs, being careful to use a /knife/ instead of her claws, and set the guts aside for fishbait, then slipped them into the pot for a simmer.

"And yeah, I'd like to come with. I just don't want to leave the beach with too few of its big guns. But you're right, when the boys get back it should be a little better."

She noticed the thoughtful look on Faith's face and cocked her head curiously. "Y'all right?"
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