Liz cracks a grin, rolling her eyes and shaking her head; she sets her bag down carefully, then the vest on top of it. She times the closing of the huge vault door just right; it doesn't clang so much as click when you're gentle with it, and she hauls it shut just as the anvil drops on Coyote's head.

She's always been good at making very little noise in combat boots.



She drapes an arm around Red's neck from behind, splaying her hand across his chest and leaning over his shoulder. "You know," she says, but she can't keep a straight face and her smile is giving her away, "you have a perfectly good chair."