Paris is pretty good at all that shielding, and otherwise has the social awareness of... a 12th-Century knight. So he doesn't notice Pixie picking up on the name.
"Kind of you to say," he says. "I must admit, it is still difficult to see how this will work out, all of us on the same side, but--" there's a bright, brittle madness in the back of those blue eyes. "One must have Faith."
A blink, and suddenly a little of that intensity is lost. He looks quizzically at her. "May I ask you a personal question, Pixie?"
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