[That's not a no. He can read the path of a lynx from the tilt of a leaf. He can track the terror of a refugee family from half a mark burned into dry asphalt. So he can tell when the tilt of Sonya's waist, the quirk of her pretty red head, says: This isn't a no.

He slips his hands around her waist. Her muscles like corded steel.]

Call it inspiration. And Marcos on my ass for not-- doing this sooner. I missed you. But, I wasn't about to try aerial tricks. You know me. I'm a salt-of-the-Earth kind of guy.