Lorraine sighs and straightens, leather and steel creaking and hissing with the motion. "Work. Work I can /do/, with men who trust me to do it. Yours will not know me, and probably will not be drunk." Or at least, better not be. "Breaking up a barfight is not so much like leading men, no?" Lorraine mentally slaps herself - the clear, precise diction she learned growing up is a habit she has been trying to break herself of.