There's a sense of challenge to his tone that she can't ignore. She narrows her eyes and drinks the shot, swallowing hard.

"Field work --"

She reaches across the bar and snatches the bottle back from him.

"-- is very different --"

She pours herself another glassful.

"-- from sex."

She throws it back, shuddering only slightly, pressing the back of her hand against her mouth for a moment. Then, in a calm, measured gesture she places her shot glass back on the bar.

And lifts her eyebrows at Mills. How d'you like me now?