At her encouragement, he deepens the kiss. His hand slides back behind her head, tangling in her red hair. The kisses are sweet, and his tongue meets hers cautiously, and then with more abandon. When she leans against him, his arm slips behind her to hold her tightly to him. At one and the same time he curses and is thankful for his armor - curses because it keeps him from fully feeling her torso against his, but thankful because he uses kevlar so he doesn't have to worry about that iron allergy quite as much. He just has to keep her from touching a lot of his weaponry. Although truth to be told, that's mainly just the guns - the stakes are all silver on the outside.

For several moments, he revels in the affection. Seeing her in action had been the last boundary between him and allowing himself to feel something for this woman that had so easily slipped into his life. It had perhaps even been only a formality, but a necessary one. And he had barely waited for the so-called "test" to be over before he had kissed her. Maybe he wanted this more than he realized.

The moment holds as long as it can, and then he pulls back just a little and breathes in deeply, her scent filling his nostrils and bringing forth a smile. Then he glances around the room and back at her.

"The moment is right, but is the place?" It was the cleaned out nest of suckheads, rife with the ashes of their kills. No one would disturb them here, but this was a very classy lady for all of her skill in hunting and killing. She wasn't the queen any more, at least not now. She was M-. But there was still something in her bearing that said he should respect her as royalty. But that could have just as easily have been his version of puppy love.