The stubborn bastard he was, of course Sanzo had used the momentum of being lifted to get his right arm curled over his chest, the stainless steel barrel reflecting the bright colors of the cloth it was pressed against. He had no strength or stability to do much more than just hold it there, but he needed to do something to soothe his pride.

Oh did his pride sting at being carried like this. That the healer was being so careful was only making it worse. Something was wrong here and he didn’t like it one bit. Being overly well informed but otherwise innocent, as far as Sanzo knew of him so far, ruled out putting a hole in Drake. Putting holes in those that meant no harm was not something he enjoyed.

None of this he enjoyed and he kept his gun and scowl in place to cement that point. Drake could well be completely innocent and there be something that reasonably explained his knowledge of Sanzo, of Genjyo Sanzo at that, but he wasn’t going to bet on that.