As Reinette leaned back, her hands slipped past Jack's coat to rest against the shirt beneath. The palmed there, fingers curled slightly and enjoying the places where the heavier fabric now sat against her knuckles.

She did not laugh at his statement. She would not. But they would not dwell in it either.

"No more out of practice than I."

Reinette kissed him again, slanted softly against his mouth and brief.

"You also taste of your pizza. Old pizza. And ice cream."

And Jack, of course. There was Jack.