I lean forward to look at her. Really look at her, which I haven't actually done, despite accepting a very strange invitation to a picnic.

I should probably get around to actually eating at some point, but I'm busy actually looking at her, like I said.

"Fine," I say. "You're prettier than ol' Dirty Harry, I guess. The accent's definitely a plus." A beat. "So. Serial killers and saving the world, huh? That's more impressive than the whole Leprechaun government thing. Should've led with that."