"That’s not my thigh, Mr. Brown."

"Maybe you should wear dresses more often. I could get used to this."

"It’s not a dress. It’s a gown. A hospital gown. God, you are so sick."

"You love it."

"I’d love it even more if you moved your hand." Warrick pulled his hand away.

"You know that’s not what I meant. Put that hand back up my dress."