[ He's always known her a little too well. Even from the very start — that first night, when he saw her in that shitty bar, wallowing in her own miserable nothingness. There shouldn't have been much to give her away. Nothing about the way she dressed or spoke that especially betrayed what she truly was — but he'd seen something, that night. Something kindred, maybe. That subtle sharp edge of hers. He'd known. And even when she'd wanted to, she'd never really been able to hide from him.

At some point, she'd mostly stopped trying.

It's probably mercy on his part that he doesn't call her out directly, making his question more casual than not. She can play it off if she wants, but the look in her eye and the slight pause before her answer makes it obvious enough that she realizes how much of her meaning he's picked up, whether or not she meant for him to.

Finally, after a slow sip of her own bitter coffee: ]

I've always been the leader. That's just how it is. [ Her tone is noncommittal — though with Rex, that's probably just as much a tell as anything else. ] Nicky and Joe have been with me the longest, and their years combined wouldn't amount to even half of mine.

[ With a little rueful wryness then, a small crack in the facade: ]

The burden of experience. You survive long enough, people just expect you to know what to do. Even when you fucking don't.

[ He probably understands some of that, doesn't he? ]