[Gabrielle sighs once more, then steps forward to place her hands on Aya's shoulders. Her fingers hovering over the bloody shoulder, barely touching it. Gabrielle's certainly not afraid of blood, but she keeps a distance—and she's not very sure why. The tips of her other fingers gently press against the skin of Aya's clean shoulder.]

The jeans are fine, but couldn't you at least wear a better top that isn't an ill-fitting t-shirt? You're a woman, not a nun.

[She tilts her chin up.] And for what it's worth, even if you could fit a circus in this dress, you have to admit it still looks beautiful on you.