Smoking is a disgusting habit, says a voice in Simon's head that sounds an awful lot like his mother's just as he reaches into his coat pocket for a pack of cigarettes. He's doing it a lot more lately. With all the shit he's somehow managed to get signed onto, he's increasingly surviving on coffee and nicotine. He'd sleep through his classes otherwise, not to mention all the important Guardian stuff that he barely understands.

So much for staying out of it and living a normal life, huh?

He's just lit his own cigarette when he sees a pretty girl fumbling with hers.

"Here." He hands her his lighter, a little too self-conscious to close the distance between them. She could be one of those personal space types. "This one works."