[ He pulls away, prickly and offended like a splashed cat, and Ramir almost cries. She's even missed that. These days he wouldn't try a move like that without a weapon involved — although he's smarter than to waste time trying most of them on her. At the very least, his offense hasn't been nonviolent for years. This is a nice callback.

She even laughs, quiet and mostly under her breath, and the smile she turns on him is nostalgic and deeply warm. She isn't seeing Jason at all, of course. Not this one. She's seeing years of memories he can't imagine, retracing a dozen golden moments she'd give most anything to relive. They all show plainly in that incongruously pleased look. ]

Yeah, I know. [ She lets out a long, slow breath, and lifts a hand to brush through her hair from her forehead. Her old nervous gesture, slower and more deliberate as it pulls through much more hair. ] I'm not asking you, but you're still helping me. I guess it's the least you can do, after all the fucking grief you've put me through.

[ Even that is out more teasing than bitter, which is something of a new leaf for her. It feels nice. ]