[ Leslie blinks at him, wide-eyed, trying and failing to look innocent. ]

Me? Want your shirt off? Why...why would I want that? Why would I care about seeing your lithe, muscled torso, lightly glistening with sweat, body still pumping with adrenaline, triumphant in your victory and brimming with vitality after your brush with death...

[ She's getting off track here, a little. Leslie trails off, staring into the distance, then blinks, shaking her head. ]

What...wait, what were we talking about?