The bite in those words brought her gaze back to the man sitting down the bench from her, though John was already looking away. Several sharp responses danced on her tongue, but there was something about the sight of him sitting there, eyes on the floor, that stilled them all. "No," she said softly. "Can't think of a reason in the world." And it was true enough; or rather, it wasn't, but anything she could have said would seem to be effectively negated by seven years. Kit slumped back against the pew, starting intently at nothing.

"The wee quiet life for John Constantine, eh? That hardly sounds familiar."