[She tips her head back against the couch and angles her glance over at him, her own smile matching his. She'd slipped into what she was for a while, less who and more what. It had been more like it was when she slipped away from Gotham for that very, very long time. And then, in the space of days came the return of a sibling and a friend. Like relief to something parched.] There are. [She angles her legs just enough so that she can tuck her toes under the back of his knee, even though it's an awkward-looking position to sit in. It somehow, magically, looks comfortable. And then her eyebrows inch up, because those words could mean anything.]