[ He's grinning by now, heading for the suitcases containing their gear. He's thanking every god available that there aren't any cameras in their quarters as he plops the cases on the table, popping open his own and running his hands oh, so lovingly over his blasters. ]
Why, Mrs. Elena McClain. You act as if your gorgeous, charming, stunning husband never delivers.
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Why, Mrs. Elena McClain. You act as if your gorgeous, charming, stunning husband never delivers.