Funny what kindness, food, and an utter lack of fear can do to Maine's defenses. Brigitte slipped straight past layer upon layer of apathy simply by trusting him. If Maine were more shrewd, he might wonder if it was a calculated move — but he's never been adept at recognizing manipulation.

Good thing Maine has Wash to watch his back. Not that Brigitte is a devil on anyone's shoulder.

The big man watches Wash and Brigitte speak, pleased when they seem to be getting along. Maybe Brigitte will tell Wash about the armor she makes back home. Not now, perhaps, but at some point. Maine thinks it's pretty fucking awesome; he'd like it if Wash knew about it, too.

He's less enthused when Brigitte suggests they take watch. It's necessary, he knows, but the watchtowers are ... well, towers. Not tall ones — certainly not one hundred and ten story buildings — but still taller than anything Maine's climbed since his arrival.

At least there's no risk of getting kicked off the tower this time. Especially if he stays away from the edge, which he fully intends to do.

So, after a near-imperceptible pause, Maine nods in agreement. Might as well get to work.