With that sudden moment of utter recall and realization, Gina's normally olivey skin, still a little bruise-mottled around one eye from where she'd struck her face during the crash, went pale - not as pale as the two men she was looking at, certainly, but pale enough for her. It was as if a bit of her brain that had been itchy but mentally out of reach was suddenly quite in her grasp, and the influx of information was a little dizzying.<br/><br/>The useless key clanked back against its fellows in her hand as she turned from the door, facing them. "Start anything ugly?" she echoed, and her glance flicked for just a moment away from Pretty Boy, toward the decidedly UNpretty Grendel, and she quipped weakly, "I think there's enough of that here already."<br/><br/>Back to Pretty Boy her eyes shifted again, and skittered reflexively down his well-built form, then back up. Unthinkingly, her tongue lipped out to wet her lower lip in an unconsciously sensual gesture; her other lips needed no such attention. Pretty Boy's power and beauty were such that, like it or not, they were already a little wet.<br/><br/>"I don't suppose I could convince you two to just kind of... skip off somewhere, could I? It's been a h-hell of a week...." she trailed off, well-knowing now that their presence had restored so much of her memory that a large chunk of that hell was directly due to their boss, the Hound... and he'd looked like Hell itself made flesh, last time she saw him.<br/><br/>Her free hand lifted to rub nervously at the side of her neck, before dropping back down and drifting toward the small of her back. The place where he'd bitten her had healed unexpectedly well.