[ She likes it when he smiles, truth be told, even if he never really smiles at her. When Crane smiles it's at the floor, at his hands, out the window. His smiles skirt the edges of the room, but very rarely find center in her gaze and she's okay with that, she supposes.

The corners of her mouth twitch again, more definitely this time, and Kathleen shrugs loosely. ] We are in the desert. Ice cream would be apt.

And get one of those squeezy bottles full of chocolate or caramel. I don't care what kind, you pick. [ She goes quiet for a moment and then presses her lips together hopefully.] That almost sounds like a treat, right?

[ (I want you to be happy. I'm sorry.) ]