Skulduggery Pleasant thought Gabe was stubborn. Well, he was, but Skulduggery was stubborn enough for himself. Oh, it wasn't that Raphael hadn't seen that brand of self-loathing before, because he had. It was just that it was very, very personal now, because Gabe cared about Skulduggery, and if Skulduggery's self-loathing led Gabe to do something stupid just because Skul couldn't let go of his own neuroses, well, yes, Raphael would have something to say.

But not now. Not for the reasons Skulduggery was assuming.

"I don't mean like that," Raphael said, his deep voice not reprimanding, but somewhere between reproachful and exasperated. He leaned in-between the seats, reaching out to lay a couple of fingers on the middle of the steering column. "Drive yourself, little lady," he told the car, and then shifted to look at Skulduggery from the side, very close. Too close to really ignore (not that he expected Skulduggery to not try).

"In the first place, Gabriel would get mad at me if I smote you just because he wants to be near you for a while. 'A while' being relative. Among other reasons I don't want that to happen, I've seen Gabriel truly angry fewer times than I can count on one hand, and I would rather not have him angry at me. In the second place, if Gabe's ... Gabeness can't convince you that we don't smite without just cause--and there's no just cause here--then nothing will. But I don't believe you're that far past help." He smiled then, a calm, gentle smile. "Our Lord has a catchphrase. 'Feed your heart.' Go ahead and open it a little more, Skulduggery. You've got someone to guard it for you."

He took his fingers off the wheel and drew back with a languid stretch. "An' for the record," he drawled, "I already know this man's someone I've gotta meet."

"I think you lost his attention the moment you touched his car," Gabe observed with a quiet laugh. Rafe only shrugged.

"Hey, she's entitled to some her-time once in a while."