"Oh, I'm sure," Raphael said dryly. "Talk. Yes. That's you intend to do. What are you planning on? Infuriating me? Chastising me for something that wasn't in the end, really my fault?"

He swallowed and wished the demon would go away or at least wouldn't smile so much.

"You know, the most trouble was caused when we were together. Since this is my space, then, in the interest of preventing trouble, I suggest you leave. After all, we've nothing to talk about."

His hand sweated on the scalpel and he knew Mictain had seen, but he wasn't about to let it go either.

"I can't think of a thing I want to say to you. So why don't you just go?"