[Cassidy blows across the top of his coffee, watches the steam swirl under the force of his breath and disperse out toward the edges of the room. It's enough to ground him further in the moment, to keep his mind from drifting off and getting distracted. He takes a long drink, downing about half the cup in one slow gulp, letting the heat and caffeine do their thing.

Maybe it's the brain fog, but it's not so easy for him to discern what Airy's feelings about this are. Well — all right, frustrated, she keeps saying, but there's something else he can't put his finger on. She wanted the help. She was so close. He thinks of how easily Widowmaker took control when he stumbled across her at the tourney. Whatever she did probably messed with Airy's head.

What does seem clear is, whether or not she enjoyed any actual orgasms, there's something about Widow's attention that Airy doesn't like. And Cassidy is all about avoiding things you don't like.]

Okay. I'll tell you what: next time she gets up in your business in a way that's not fun for you? You create up some kind of metal mittens over her hands — right? Or cement blocks 'round her feet. And just get the hell out of there. 'Cause she's got no call treatin' you like that after you say 'No, thanks.'