Those are woven into more than just fabric. It's in his head, in his smile and her's (even though he can't see it). Their orbits cross at all the right points. They dance and sway in a mobile or carousel of interworkings. Always moving. That's them. Matt is glad for her presence, for her...everything. And on and on it all spins. His world has existed before her and it's only brightened and perked in her light and warmth.

The no-good-reason kind are spacing out far more than they used to. Less stress on both job fronts. Still worry and his own bullheadedness cause trouble now and again. They practice together. Her own moods can be stormy. Not a soul could or would blame her. Matt's never minded the rain. He can either be a lightning rod or hold an umbrella.

"Probably more than ten," he has a smile after such a kiss. Though his brows knit just a little. "...Okay. Well, no rush." Not for now. And he means it. For tonight they can float and fly with their little... uh oh. Matt turns his head in Bobbi's direction. Okay. She's still there.