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"What? What are you staring at? Is there something on my face?"

"Nothing."

"No, c'mon, what is it?"

"You're wearing that shirt again."

"So? I'm proud of my niece, I don't mind showing that off. Plus it's a nice shirt; feel it. That, my friend, is 20% organic bamboo."

"It's pink."

"So what?"

"You don't think that's kind of a . . . feminine color?"

"Yeaaaaaahh . . . y'know, I thought about that. For about a minute. Then I just figured, whatever. It's a color, right? It's the way our eyes perceive light in a particular range of the visible spectrum. Any of this symbolism, gender, whatever, we gave it that. And it's historical, too. Cultural. You know prior to the 1940s pink was for boys 'cuz it was closer to grrr, virile, red, while blue was for girls because of the Virgin Mary? True facts."

"That may be so, but now. Aren't you worried someone will think you're, y'know . . ."

"A girl? I think I'm a little hairy to be giving that impression, but you never know."

"Jensen."

"Oh you mean am I worried people will think I'm gay? Okay, first of all, that really doesn't have all that much to do with femininity, I don't think. Secondly, who cares!"

"Um, the U.S. military, for one."

"Yeah, well. Not for much longer, I hope. Besides which, they think we got blowed up, remember? We don't work for them anymore. I could wear a rainbow flag toga over my leather jock and they couldn't say a damned thing about it."

" . . . leather . . . Please tell me you're not wearing one of those right now."

"Wouldn't you like to know . . ."