Oh, well... I suppose I don't mind if you want to take more. Risks, that is. Um. With me.

[Help.

Red to the roots of her hair she turns away and busies herself with the sink, still feeling the tingle on her lips where his had touched. Or-- where she'd touched his, because she'd really been making all the moves up there hadn't she. The thought sends a little tingle up her spine.]

Yes, the dishes. I'll hand them over so you can dry them, then just stack them on the side.

[And then she plunges her hands into the water, keeping her head down so he - hopefully - can't see how red she's gone.]