He's relieved when she laughs. He's always relieved when she laughs. Especially now, when he could just as well say something wrong and make the tension even worse. He's never been so conscious about not wanting to mess up a moment before.

(It's probably the whole shooting-him-into-a-female thing.)

At her questions, the corner of his mouth quirks upward and he shrugs a shoulder. He eyes the bit of pastry in her fingers.

"Of course I do. I may save 'em begrudgingly sometimes, but I ain't that much of a bastard to leave 'em. Y'know, I got twenty years worth of stories, and a quarter of 'em are easily about saving cats, 'cause lemme tell ya, New York City has a lot of cats."