[ the transition is interesting. he's gone through a few portals in his time, and he has been teleported from the space station down to El Nysa enough to have gotten a grasp over how much of a headache that could be. never has he done it with another person, let alone Rosalind, tethered to him so closely. it's a long four seconds for him, too, taking note of the street, the roof and eventually her home. when they're standing still and the world is no longer moving around them, Bigby lets out a sigh and steps back. it's the living room, something he has grown quite familiar with in recent past. ]

Didn't expect to find myself here again so soon. [ his hand is about to rise up to wave her off dismissively when she brings up the possibility of being found, but it's stopped short when she talks of death. he gives her a look, one of much speculation. it takes a moment or three to speak again. ] ... Did we already talk about the "dying again" part when we were interrogating each other? I feel like we glazed over that.

[ there's a glance down when she lets go of his pants — he hadn't even noticed she was touching them in the first place — and he isn't about to fight with her about sitting on the couch. Bigby groans at the idea of taking them off a second time in the exact same place as last time, but, again. one would think he is ready and willing for another fight, but not with Rosalind. she may not have much on him in terms of muscle or strength, but that tongue of hers is destined to give him a headache he doesn't need right now. ]

Yeah, yeah. Can't wait to see how gentle of a touch you don't have.

[ he's walking over as asked, undoing his pants and tugging them down his hips. by the time he is sitting down, the waist is resting just above his knee, revealing the wound that was just short of piercing his underwear. an inch higher and he would have had to remove those too. how "unfortunate". ]