"Neither do I," Cal says. "Like I said before, he can take care of himself."

He slips a pack of American Spirits from his pocket and holds it out.

"Want one?"

It's a deliberate gesture. This isn't like before, when he couldn't wait to get away. Now he doesn't care how long they're both here; cares so little, in fact, that he's even offering up an excuse for Stane to stick around.

He's not scared this time.