She smiles slowly, nodding, and finally let's his hand slip away from her grasp, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. If she was in the precinct, she'd have an excuse to go for coffee, or a call would come in to break the moment.

Here, in the kitchen of her place, in a magical bar at the end of the universe, all she has is a brief smile and the counter behind her to lean against, bracing palms along the edge.

"I could look into it," she offers.