“I don't want to hurt anyone" Laszlo fiddled with a button on his tux jacket. "Can't we convince the CIA that some of us are peaceful?" "we'll have to try" Angus folded his arms across his broad chest. "And if they doona believe we're peaceful, then we'll have to kill the bastards." Roman frowned, somehow their Highlander logic escaped him.”

“Now, we'll have to hang out here until we're sure Jared's really gone and can't catch us." He grinned conspiratorially. "Then we'll have some fun!" I remembered that his idea of fun was usually along the lines of an armed standoff.”

“Was anyone hurt?""Sadly, no," Kale mumbled. He folded his arms and looked toward the door with a sulky expression. I'll have to try harder next time.”

“She tried not to slip her arms beneath his trench coat, or spread her palms across his broad, muscular back, or inhale the delicious scent of him, or rest her cheek against his hard, warm chest. She tried. And failed.”

“...We'll exchange rings, we'll throw rice. We'll put down roots.'We don't have roots. We're network people. We have aerials.”

“His eyes are piercing and intense, the stare they give me brimming with threat and interest, folding thick arms over a broad chest, rippling the muscles in his forearms and etching the tattoos down his arms into stark highlight.”