She rolled her eyes, still hauling him into the building.  He asked too many questions that the inquisitive French would be too interested in, and then she'd have to dig them out of it.  Turning on him, she pushed the paper into his hands,  "I was fine before I saw you here.  No one knows I'm here...well, except you now."  Her tone was vicious as she glared up at him.<br/><br/>"And what do you think I could do now?  At least if you're gonna be poking around Paris, I can offer you a place to stay.  But don't kill anybody, okay?  I don't think I have enough of a grasp of French to explain to the police...anything."<br/><br/>Her dad had always talked about "one of us and one of them"...and even though she knew he meant one "normal" person and one "special" person, it would be easier to keep an eye on him if she even tried to be nice.<br/><br/>Turning to head up the stairs, she looked back at him,  "Don't make me regret this."