Similarly, she hadn't slept at all on the plane, too ramped up from the combination of adrenaline and multiple near-death experiences to consider relaxing - not to mention the utter lack of neck support on the seats.

When he moves, she moves with him, her top half sprawled across his as she idly traces invisible patterns across his clavicle.

"Tell me about it." She pauses, and a slow smile blossoms.

"We're in Paris, though."