Elizabeth sets her visual to capture the backseat from the rearview... albeit at a lower resolution than she'd prefer, she still manages to crack a smile just before she chewed her pouting lower lip at the enticements back there... all this without taking her eyes from the road as she worked the handbrake and accelerator in rapid successtion to drift the heavy sedan into 90 degree turn and out again at full accelleration, tires sputtering their squeals of happy, self-destructive protest.<br/><br/>She knew the feeling.<br/><br/>Back to fourth gear she glides between lanes, using the oncoming track of a semi as an opportunity to pass because-- though it seems unfairly easy-- she really<em>can</em>tell if they'll make it or not.  In the midst of a four-lane cross she turns her head from the oncoming traffic to look at Jamal, seeming to have forgotten completely about the head-on 90 MPH traffic.  "Jamal, do you like music?"<br/><br/>The driver knows that she is still in control, and is manipulating the vehicle as surely as operating a division of<br/>Pi place by place, but... it's still unsettling.  He skips the upcoming conversation and turns the stereo on, rolling out whatever music Vivian was listening to...?