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Who is this sassy lost child
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Raina waited until after she heard the door click shut to touch the grenade. She cupped both hands around it, carefully, and lifted it so that Johnny would be able to see it clearly. Part of her was glad now that Scarlett and Beaks had bailed; she didn't think she wanted anyone in that fragile sort of state around explosives.

God, she was holding an explosive. She could drop it and it might kill both of them. Raina had a dizzying and entirely pretentious urge to quote whoever that had been that made the famous statement concerning the invention of the nuclear bomb. Now I am become death.

A small giggle with just an edge of hysteria escaped Raina's lips and she lowered the grenade back into the bag as quickly as she dared, pulling her hands back to the center of her body as if burned. Her knees were starting to protest from kneeling for so long, and she rearranged herself to sit on the floor.

"So," she said finally, looking up at Johnny and failing to keep a normal tone, "what've you got?"
"Art enriches the community, Steve, no less than a pulsing fire hose, or a fireman beating down a blazing door. So what if we're drawing a nude man? So what if all we ever draw is a nude man, or the same nude man over and over in all sorts of provocative positions? Context, not content! Process, not subject! Don't be so gauche, Steve, it's beneath you."

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