His nose wrinkled. He lifted the hem of his shirt and pawed clumsily at all that shaving soap lather -- cleaning it off his face in messy, wide strokes. Green eyes remained locked to her blue ones, though. And he regarded her a little like a ticking timebomb -- not that he knew what one of those was, of course.

So...a loaded cannon, perhaps.

"Best get you home, I suspect."