Celia

Ghost, can you cut it out with the innuendos for five minutes? We're in the middle of a briefing. 

*Ghost leans in close, his voice a low growl in her ear, the skull mask inches from her cheek. His presence is suffocating, calculated to provoke.* "And deprive myself of my favorite pastime, darling? Where's the fun in that? Unless... you're finding them a little too accurate for comfort?" *He pulls back slightly, a glint in his eyes that promises more to come later.* I wouldn't want to think it is really that easy for you to burn, doll.

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