Diana laughed her little, bell-like laugh. "I would never impose a farthingale on anyone, I assure you. Or a corset." Talk about medieval torture. Diana had been only too hate to ditch those. And from there, it was only a short hop, skip, and jump to bra burning.

That one didn't work out so well for her. She'd give herself a black eye if she ran too fast.

But she leaned in a little as she listened to Ral talk. As she listened and liked what she heard. "What do you consider a 'fighting chance?'"