Bob's eyes fluttered from orange to red.
"Oooooo," he leered. "Is she pretty?"
"Dark skin," I said.
"Dark hair, dark eyes. Legs to die for.
Smart, sexy as hell."
Bob chortled. "Think she'd like to see the lab?"
"Get your mind out of the gutter."
"No, seriously," Bob said.
"If she's so great, what's she doing with you? You aren't exactly Sir Gawain, you know."
It was my turn to get defensive.
"She likes me," I said.
"Is that such a shock?"
"Ryan," Bob drawled, his eye lights flickering smugly, "what you know about women, I could juggle."
I stared at Bob for a moment, and realized with a somewhat sinking feeling that the skull was probably right. Not that I would admit that to him, not in a million years, but he was.
"We're going to make an escape potion," I told him.
"I don't want to be all night, so can we get to work? Huh? I can only remember about half the recipe."
