"Does no one around here speak to other people when they have a problem?" Marcello said irritably, groaning. "I'm sorry, I'm not angry with you. It just..." He shuddered. "So many problems that would be solved just by talking about them."

Scarlet huffed delicately. "Look who's talking, Mr. I Think I'll Hang Out In a Tower Until My Feet Freeze Off."

"Just because I've done it doesn't mean I can't acknowledge it's a problem," Marcello replied irritably.

"Look, these Tuatha are crazy," she told him. "They, like, totally have issues asking for help. Sign of weakness. Anyway, do his fucking motives even matter? He did it."

"Well, yes, they do matter," Marcello replied. "You understand this. I'm the only person here who is even a fraction as protective of Niabheara as you are, and that includes the lady herself. She loves Dierdre, whatever's going on here is going to hurt Dierdre. I want to try to keep the damage to a minimum."

"What do you mean, minimize damage?" she asked. "Fucker's opened himself up to be slaughtered by an amazing variety of women."

"I don't give a damn about him," Marcello replied. "I don't want Niabheara to get hurt because of this."

Scarlet huffed again, hands on her hips. "So what is 'minimized damage' in your language?"

"Well, technically, that was my language," Marcello replied. "I want to keep Niabheara from getting hurt too badly, or sucked into someone else's problems. And frankly, at this point, I think it means that we need to keep Duncan far, far away. But the trouble is trying to figure out how to do that without Niabheara getting stuck taking care of Dierdre."

She raised an eyebrow. "I would hardly define that as 'getting stuck.' And dude-man has made this her problem."