“You seem to hold a lot of contempt for the Council, Ms. Jameson-Nightengale.”

 

“Contempt? No. Distrust? Sure. Alarm? Absolutely. Occasionally wake from nightmares of an apocalyptic hellscape where the Council has taken over and turned the human population into juice boxes—”

“Is there a reason I’m not being asked anything?” Dick asked, raising his hand. “Usually I’m the one that gets questioned in these situations.”

"...as if Dick had done something to personally offend him (which, honestly, was a possibility with Dick. He’d been around for a while, and he was… Dick)."

"Jane smelled of old paper and creamy chocolate and kindness, the sort of scent that meant safety and home."

 

 

"...had mutually friend-zoned each other within minutes of meeting, because it just seemed like crossing too many streams to date your neighbor who also happened to be your coworker."