Crabb exhales shakily and says, in a stunned sort of voice, "Jeezus Christ..." as she scrubs a hand over her face, feeling those eyes around them bearing down on her even more strongly. Already her mind is reeling with questions, with wondering how she didn't see this, with the realisation about why Tom never let her touch his Goddamned face—

But after a moment she forces composure on herself. Clears her throat, takes a deep breath, and nods. Then, loudly, projecting to the rest of the room: "Alright, let's get them outta here. Sorry, folks, looks like this evening's main event is off."

Sorry Watson, no chance to escape, you're being ferried out by Crabb while the staff force Cragen to follow.