He turned to face her, wiping the last of the silicone from his features. The steel-gray eyes that could smolder somberly or turn icy bright with cruelty were lit with laughter. 'Do I pass the physical, Doc?' 'So many scars', she said in wonderment. Knife. Bullet wound. Razor slash. She ticked the descriptions off as her finger traced their jagged courses. 'Appendectomy, gall bladder operation,' he said tightly. 'Don't romanticize'.

1968.