She grins at his silence, the way his mouth pulls just slightly, and shrugs, reaching for hr drink and settling back with it in one hand, the other toying with her straw.

"Fine. None of it has anything to do with you and it was all dumb luck you managed to recruit a perfect storm of task force candidates. Happy?"

It's better, now. Easier. He's not as tense, and she's not as worried. He's still being an idiot, but at least he's aware of the level of fucked he'll be if this goes wrong in the ninety-nine ways out of a hundred in which it can. Part of her wonders if he would ever have put up this kind of fight for her, but she brushes it aside like an annoying fly; it's not worth wondering about, and anyway, that part of their relationship is done for now. Maybe someday it'll start up again, but right now, her role is exactly the one she's taking: at his back.