Lie though it would have been to suggest that there was little Phyrne liked so well as surprising a criminal (be it lawfully true or not in that moment) with a gun in her hand and the situation pulled under control, her love of hedonism too flagrant to make the list of things she enjoyed so short, it was an action she enjoyed immensely. That the man belonged to a time even more constrictive than her own in matters of womanhood and what they were and were not to be allowed made the victory all the more sweet.

She watched with narrowed eyes as the captain drew the gun away from Porthos' head, ready as ever for a movement that might suggest he was fool enough to think he'd catch her off her guard if he turned on her. When he crashed hard to the ground under the force of Porthos' attack, her lips could not help but quirk at that small measure of comeuppance before she used a foot to kick his gun away from where it had fallen. No sense in offering him a chance to use it again, after all.

When she turned her attention to Porthos (keeping ever an eye on the Captain before her as he struggled to his feet with one hand occupied in cradling his jaw, every movement a touch shaken and jerky as if his brains had been sufficiently rattled by the blow to make his thoughts sluggish), it was to smile.

"I have just the thing."