She sets a brimming cup down in front of him, holding off on passing over the breakfast just yet, and picks up her own mug, sitting down on the other side of the table.

It's one thing to have seen him a little worn around the edges - that part she's familiar with, ever since their somewhat unconventional first meeting - but this is something else.

Beckett hides a smile behind the rim of her mug, silently sipping.