“You're staring.""Can't 'elp meself, he replied. You were made to be stared at.”

“I was not staring at you,” he told his plate. I leaned over. “Did you hear that, Dingane’s lunch? He was not staring at you.”He looked up at me crossly. “I was not staring at you.”“I never said you were.” “I was merely explaining that Henry was exaggerating. I did not stare at you.”“Okay,” I stated, implying in my tone that he had done just that.“I didn’t. I-I wasn’t.” “I believe you,” I told him“I may have looked at you a few times to make sure you were doing your job.”“Oh, I see then.”“But I certainly wasn’t staring.”“We’ve established that you were not staring.”He breathed deeply a few times, his eyes burning into mine. “Good.”He’d definitely been staring.”

“You're staring.''You're my wife. I'm allowed to stare.''Is that the rule?''Yes. Stare, leer, ogle, anything I want. Trust me. I'm a lawyer.”

“You're staring at me," Simon said. "Why are you staring at me? Have I got something on my face?”

“The two men stared at each other. Assumptions were made, judgments rendered, dicks measured.”

“Bones just stared. "You're not a woman," he said finally. "You're the Grim Reaper with red hair!”