DRAKE is grinning. SABRE is not, but it’s that I’m-not-going-to-smile-even-though-I-know-it’s-funny expression.

1. DRAKE: Can’t recollect a body every telling me I talk too much.

On SABRE. Smiling despite herself.

2. SABRE: Then I claim a rare distinction.

New angle. DRAKE still standing, but SABRE is now flopping down on her bed/couch/trunk. She’s still half annoyed with Drake.

3. SABRE: I could grow fond of you, Miles Drake.
4. SABRE: If you weren’t so blasted righteous.

On SABRE, looking up, holding the MAP, rolled, out, as if to show it to Drake.

5. SABRE: I find my duty and my honor placed at odds.
6. SABRE: I do not care for it, not at all.