There's a part of her that has to admit she's nearly always known that, and that she's never been bothered by it. The tension between them started early, and though she'd thought they might never act on it, it's become... oddly comfortable. Familiar.

It's never made a difference to the way he treats her; that, she thinks, is why it's never bothered her. When he's challenged her opinions it's because he genuinely disagrees, not because he doesn't respect her; when he champions her, it's because he knows she's right, not that he's trying to curry favor. It's a dynamic she wouldn't have believed if she hadn't been living it.

So she rolls easily with him, her hands coming back to his shoulders; now that she has license to touch she's not going to quit. She lets her eyes fall shut as he kisses her, focusing all her attention on sensation until he pauses and speaks, making her grin as she looks back at him.

"That means a lot," she says, too earnestly to be serious. "You're a connoisseur."