His look turns from curated unaffected derision to— aghast horror. It upsets her, and sure, he meant to upset her, but she's upset for him. He knocks her hand off his shoulder, sneers: "The butcher, the baker, the candlestick maker, get a grip."

Billy works best, manipulates best, with his peer group, things get fucking weird as soon as age rears its head, makes him or them act stupid. At least she's not a man. He shakes off the care. "Come on. I'll get you water."