His easy acquiescence to her ridiculous demand gets a pleased hum from her, and she leans forward to nuzzle her nose along his jaw. "Good boy." Significantly less than a year since they met, and not even six months since their first real date. She's moving too fast. Some part of her knows this, understands it even. But the heart wants what the heart wants...
"You and Foggy are young, handsome lawyers taking on some very high-profile cases. You should dress the part. The suits you have now are nice, but they could be better." He's learned by now, she hopes, that when she says 'nice but could be better' she means exactly that: there are plenty of things that get better with a little extra effort: a mist of lavender water over his pillowcase, a touch of saffron in a pot of rice, making peanut butter at home with fresh-roasted nuts and local honey.
She hopes he doesn't make her have to stand over his grave and say 'I told you so'. She's done enough mourning for a good few decades. But she doesn't want to make him ever think he has to choose between her and his calling. She's his, whatever being with him brings. "Yes, we do. Clint gave me a 'wish list' and, well, you know what happens when someone gives me a list..."
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His easy acquiescence to her ridiculous demand gets a pleased hum from her, and she leans forward to nuzzle her nose along his jaw. "Good boy." Significantly less than a year since they met, and not even six months since their first real date. She's moving too fast. Some part of her knows this, understands it even. But the heart wants what the heart wants...
"You and Foggy are young, handsome lawyers taking on some very high-profile cases. You should dress the part. The suits you have now are nice, but they could be better." He's learned by now, she hopes, that when she says 'nice but could be better' she means exactly that: there are plenty of things that get better with a little extra effort: a mist of lavender water over his pillowcase, a touch of saffron in a pot of rice, making peanut butter at home with fresh-roasted nuts and local honey.
She hopes he doesn't make her have to stand over his grave and say 'I told you so'. She's done enough mourning for a good few decades. But she doesn't want to make him ever think he has to choose between her and his calling. She's his, whatever being with him brings. "Yes, we do. Clint gave me a 'wish list' and, well, you know what happens when someone gives me a list..."