[Quentin makes an extra-dramatic "oof" sound at the shove and makes a cartoonish scowl back at Julian for it. And—you know what? Why not. He gives Julian a shove back. This kind of idiotic slapstick nonsense has never really been Quentin's style, at least not in any kind of joking way—the telepathic "stop hitting yourself" routine is a classic—but it is Julian's, apparently. And, well, Quentin can adapt. When it suits him.]

I never said she'd kill you. I said she'd barbeque you. Big difference.

[Quentin looks entirely too smug about his semantics, until he recalls something that makes his face brighten, and he can feel a—gasp—genuine smile tugging at his mouth.]

Aw, shit, dude, speaking of barbeque, you'll never guess who's the cook at our new base. Glob Fucking Herman. He's actually kind of incredible, honestly. Got a greenhouse and shit and he feeds all of us, including Cain, who's fucking ginormous. Cooked for all of the Avengers one time, too. Big doofus is super into it.