Somehow it honestly still manages to take him by surprise, how brazen she can be. When he's thought about this-- and yes, he has; for all that things have been a little hot and cold since she got back, they've been hot enough to tend toward warm all around, it's never seemed outside the realm of probability that sooner or later they'd find the time for more than kissing, though he rather expected they'd be indoors when they did-- he's had it in mind that she might not want to do this, that she might have too many unpleasant memories, and he'd half thought he'd valiantly not let her because she doesn't have to. But of course she doesn't have to; if there were any intimation that she had to then she wouldn't.

So he lets her break the kiss and fall before him. That guileless, fond look in her eyes is enough to kill any protests that might be on the tip of his tongue. It's like everything else has been; entirely different in the heat of the moment than in the endless rationalizations, and when it comes down to it he doesn't have it in him to deny her anything. So he doesn't, and it's fortunate he's got something to lean on or he'd dissolve, trying to keep his hips stilled and running his hands lightly through her hair.

Maybe he ought to visit her at work more often, eh.