"You've got to be the only person in the world who thinks that's cute," she says, fond.

Part of her wants to argue, for form's sake... and to prove that she can, that there's nothing left of the drugged compliance left in her system.

She wonders how long it'll be before she's sure any acquiescence is because she wants it, and not for some other reason. She turns in his hands, letting the shower rinse off the lather he's worked over her back and rear and the backs of her legs, and touches his wet hair gently, a wry half-smile quirking her mouth. "Sorry, baby. I don't think I'm up for too much arguing tonight."