Her voice, and her laugh, and her little snickers and giggles. They just get under his skin and make him want to take her home with him.

"Well, whatever therapeutic stuff you got goin' on, it's working," he chuckles.

At her kittenish nuzzle, he tilts his head back against the cushions and presses her head to his shoulder, his fingers curling through her hair.

"How 'bout you? You still doin' that actual-- therapy thing? With that doctor-- Guppy, right?"

She's mentioned him in passing before, and he's seen and heard his name around the bar. The guy seems to be a reputable, trusted type.