"I'll deny I said it," he said.
"Well, that answers my question."
"What question?"
"If you were honest, or a lying bastard."
His face darkened, and he stood up, sort of looming on the edge of his desk. "Get out of my office."
"My pleasure," I said. I opened the door, shut it firmly but calmly behind me, and walked out through the desks of the other marshals. They'd watched the "talk" through the glass windows of Raborn's office. They'd seen the body language, and they knew the talk had ended badly. I didn't care. I was just walking, because my throat was tight, and my eyes burned. Was I really going to cry because Raborn had asked me if I thought I was human? I hoped not.
EDWARD FOUND ME leaning against the cleanest part of the alley wall I could find. I was crying, not a lot, but still doing it. He didn't say anything. He just leaned against the wall beside me, having to tip his cowboy hat forward so it didn't bump the wall. He looked very Marlboro Man with the hat hiding most of his upper face.
"I still can't get used to you doing the whole Ted cowboy thing." My voice was steady; if the tears hadn't been visible you couldn't have told I was crying.
He grinned. "It makes people comfortable around him."
"Talking about Ted in the third person, when he's you, is a little creepy, too."
He grinned wider, and drawled in that Ted voice, "Now, little lady, you know Ted isn't real. He's just a name I use."
"He's your legal identity. I think it's your birth name."
The grin began to fade around the edges, and I didn't have to see his eyes to know they were going cold and empty. "If you want to ask a question, ask it."
"I've asked before and you wouldn't answer."
"That was then, this is now." His voice was very quiet, very Edward.