“Right,' Thomas said. 'Where are we headed?''To where they treat me like royalty,' I said.'We're going to Burger King?'I rubbed the heel of my hand against my forehead and spelled fratricide in a subvocal mutter, but I had to spell out temporary insanity and justifiable homicide, too, before I calmed down enough to speak politely. 'Just take a left and drive. Please.''Well,' Thomas said, grinning, 'since you said 'please'- Thomas Raith & Harry Dresden, Small Favor, Jim Butcher”

“My name is Anne; spelled with an e at the end." said Anne to Mrs. Thomas.”

“There was a click of high heels in the hall behind us, and a young woman appeared. She was pretty enough, I suspected, but in the tight black dress, black hose, and with her hair slicked back like that, it was sort of threatening. She gave me a slow, cold look and said, "So. I see that you’re keeping low company after all, Ravenius."Ever suave, I replied, "Uh. What?""’Ah-ree," Thomas said.I glanced at him.He put his hand flat on the top of his head and said, "Do this."I peered at him.He gave me a look.I sighed and put my hand on the top of my head.The girl in the black dress promptly did the same thing and gave me a smile. "Oh, right, sorry. I didn’t realize.""I will be back in one moment," Thomas said, his accent back. "Personal business.""Right," she said, "sorry. I figured Ennui had stumbled onto a subplot." She smiled again, then took her hand off the top of her head, reassumed that cold, haughty expression, and stalked clickety-clack back to the bistro.I watched her go, turned to my brother while we both stood there with our hands flat on top of our heads, elbows sticking out like chicken wings, and said, "What does this mean?""We’re out of character," Thomas said."Oh," I said. "And not a subplot.""If we had our hands crossed over our chests," Thomas said, "we’d be invisible.""I missed dinner," I said. I put my other hand on my stomach. Then, just to prove that I could, I patted my head and rubbed my stomach. "Now I’m out of character—and hungry.”

“Da. This is going very well already."Thomas barked out a laugh. "There are seven of us against the Red King and his thirteen most powerful nobles, and it's going well?"Mouse sneezed."Eight," Thomas corrected himself. He rolled his eyes and said, "And the psycho death faerie makes it nine.""It is like movie," Sanya said, nodding. "Dibs on Legolas.""Are you kidding?" Thomas said. "I'm obviously Legolas. You're . . ." He squinted thoughtfully at Sanya and then at Martin. "Well. He's Boromir and you're clearly Aragorn.""Martin is so dour, he is more like Gimli." Sanya pointed at Susan. "Her sword is much more like Aragorn's.""Aragorn wishes he looked that good," countered Thomas."What about Karrin?" Sanya asked."What--for Gimli?" Thomas mused. "She is fairly--""Finish that sentence, Raith, and we throw down," said Murphy in a calm, level voice."Tough," Thomas said, his expression aggrieved. "I was going to say 'tough.' "As the discussion went on--with Molly's sponsorship, Mouse was lobbying to claim Gimli on the basis of being the shortest, the stoutest, and the hairiest--"Sanya," I said. "Who did I get cast as?""Sam," Sanya said.I blinked at him. "Not . . . Oh, for crying out loud, it was perfectly obvious who I should have been."Sanya shrugged. "It was no contest. They gave Gandalf to your godmother. You got Sam.”

“Demonreach only wants Harry to see what's going on.""Why doesn't it just marry him?" Thomas muttered under his breath."It sort of did," I said."My brother the... geosexual?”

“If your new boss wanted yo on the island, wouldn't she just have told you to go there?" Thomas asked."Seems like," I said. "Taking her orders is pretty much my job now."Molly snorted softly."Maybe I'll grow into it," I said. "You don't know."Thomas snorted softly.”