Viggo could tell Sean never got into the right headspace; always betrayed by the hesitation in his voice, the doubt in his touch, his unassured handling of the equipment. Sean's attempts to control the scene hadn't even convinced himself, much less Viggo.

But this is the first time they've played with a knife -- and when Viggo suddenly finds it snatched away with skill and confidence, his earlier doubts are erased. Eyes wide, he hisses, held captive by a caress of Sheffield steel, cold and solid as the voice propelling it.

"Nothing comes between me and my blade, Vig."