"S'good," Blake replied, watching as Mallory prepared to engineer a daring escape. He could see that she knew what she was doing, and that it would only be a matter of time before she figured out how to take the door apart. He scanned the vicinity outsider of the bars, wondering if there was anything useful there they could use once she got them out.<br/><br/>His arm was still in a great deal of pain, but he didn't want to distract Mal from what she was doing. She always told him it was best to stay quiet when "her genius was at work", and though he knew what genius meant, he'd never seen anything come out of her and start working before. In any case, he hoped to get some kind of rum (pirates drank rum, right?) once they were out to help with the pain. It was one of the things he'd learned in Denyan. Alcohol could numb the pain of anything, even a dying marriage, an old barman had told him.<br/><br/>"We gon' swim f'it, or take over th'ship, Mal?"<br/><br/>In the distance, he suddenly thought he could hear a great deal of noise coming from somewhere aside from over their heads. It sounded a bit like Denyan when one was by the shoreline.