"He's dead," Veronica says, and the sudden urge for a cigarette is so strong that she actually pats one of her pockets before she remembers their benevolent puppet masters hadn't included that in their gift pack.

"I wouldn't put a knife in your back," she says again, more firmly this time and holding Cougar's gaze. Maybe it shouldn't matter, but it does. She's nothing like J.D. She could never do anything like that on purpose.