Punie turns, enough for him to see her right arm hanging mostly useless at her side. A quick push sets the shoulder back into its socket -- with a sound that shoulders should not normally make -- and she rolls it gently to secure it in place.

"It was easier because you were moving." And because you were holding my hand. Her skirt has a bit of dirt on it as well, near the hem; she dusts it off as best she can. "You didn't think I'd let you get blown up into little tiny bits, did you? I still want to watch you make some more of your explosives."

And give him some more time to plot his next move.