Though she ducks her head instinctively, there's no denying that Jenny is pleased to hear it. That sort of thing ought to speak for itself, she thinks, when otherwise there isn't any point in doing this, but that doesn't stop her from liking the sound of it. They've danced around this for so long — she's wanted this for so long — that it would seem somehow wrong not to savor every word, every graze of skin, knowing that it finally means what she's wished it would. With as suddenly as everything happened, it's more than she's yet managed to completely process, but it makes so much sense, too; standing here before him now, even in a place that shouldn't exist and a time a hundred years before her own, it feels like she's exactly where she's supposed to be.

"Yes," she says, "so am I." This part was probably always going to be inherently awkward, but not wanting to let it stay that way, she draws in a breath and smooths her hands over her skirt. "Should we go?"