Drunken Sailor

[Reeves]

His eyes narrowed in response to the last thing she said, because something didn't add up for him, and it should have been obvious to her what that was. "Nothing's professional in the world you've just decided to be part of. I didn't save you or your crew out of professional courtesy. And if you don't trust me on a personal level, then you've been a fool to tell me about your addiction. That has very personal consequences, I'm not sure if you've seen what they do to addicts in Huntsville, but being touched would be the least of your concerns. So are you a fool or are you trying to trust me? Which is it?" While all of that had been put across to her politely, there was an unmistakable sense of weight to the question.

"You can spare me the obvious facts too. I'm aware we don't know each other well. But you make it nothing short of impossible to know you. And in the long run I can't work with somebody or something I don't know, because then I can't trust them. And when everything's personal in the underworld that accounts for more than you think." It was an uncompromisingly harsh reminder that this wasn't the Legion, all the safety nets were gone and there were no longer any rules to the game. Everything was boiled down to its most basic principles, anything left over was cannibalized in the interests of the same. Since she seemed so desperate to drink herself into oblivion, he stopped bothering to reach for the bottle.