Diana closed the bedroom door behind her and leaned back on it, taking a deep breath. She heard a different door slam and flinched. [i]Shit,[/i] she thought, suddenly feeling very tiny. [i]I've caused strife or something. Maybe I should pack up and go while I can. Men.[/i] She wondered briefly with prickly neck-hairs if either of them had been "into" her, but looking at a shard of mirror she'd taken with her at all the grit and bloodstains she'd collected, she decided that this was the farthest possible thing from the truth she could get. 

Summoning her courage, she opened the door a crack and peeked out down the stairs. She caught an angry sounding [i]"The last thing I'm going to worry about is getting laid!"[/i], wrinkled her nose and closed the door again, wondering what the hell was going on. Were they talking about her? The thought that the words "getting laid" were in their vocabulary right now, minutes after she'd revealed her presence, disturbed Diana. 

Another, stronger surge of courage went through her, and she swung the door open fully. If she was going to be allowed to stay here for any length of time, she'd probably have to prove herself, and she guessed that it would have to start with asserting that she wasn't some whore. She went down the stairs, holding her head high. [i]Don't panic. Do not panic. Diana, you idiot, don't panic.[/i] Halfway down the stairs she stopped, took a moment to collect herself, and looked Liam straight in the eyes. 

"So, what was this I heard about getting laid?" she asked coolly. "Because, just to be clear here, if you're talking about me, I'm not available."