"Tattoos," Andy said lightly, relaxed and content around the others as she draped herself over the arm of the couch where there was room and where the pigment wouldn't be smudged off her skin.

"Won't last forever, but they'll last longer than trying to get a real one." The wounds just closed up--as Booker would have remembered, when she'd made him re-pierce one of her ears with a potato and a safety pin after the ring in it had been torn out, and the whole thing had healed over again. "Think about what you want him to draw on you, Book."