[Of course he's a Sam. His smile is one of those infectious types, the kind that automatically makes her smile back. He's older than her, not above playing around -- game, this was just a game -- but it sticks in her head that he's used to guns, and used to drawing fire away from others.

It's the kind of thing that rolls her stomach, makes her wonder if he's that way around everything.

Ellie tries to calm the ache in her chest and be a normal fucking person who doesn't think about shit like that, and smiles back up at him.]

I'm Ellie. And it looks like you bet on the right horse. Nobody here knew what hit 'em.

[The laser light show is still going on around them, and Ellie shrugs, spreading her hands.]

So, did we win anything, or just bragging rights?