Working, unlike Ronan; Eva had been repairing the Danger Room. Which made sense, because how did she even get life insurance? The Archer reference, along with the realization his hands were unusually cumbersome, betrayed his emotions to the Nth degree. Feelings that normally remained buried under layers and layers of Ronan!cool were just... out there. He was a child at his first fair - helium balloons strung behind him while he walked from one nausea-inducing ride to the next. Mars tinkered with the thought of a cigarette, but quickly dodged it faster than he'd have ducked the clowns at his fictional fair.
Nerves, Murphy? Yes, he thought to no one but his own bothersome psyche. This was his fault anyway, generally Mars had no problem with moral quagmires - they were his pastime. But they were rarely... they were never like this. He never cared this much about the result.
Bent over and alluring in all the ways only Eva could be at once - Ronan's eyes narrowed, and his breath shortened. She reduced him to naught, worse, she pulverized him to dust. His talking-hole opened to form words... but the sight of her punched the words right out of his throat. Why would he screw this up?* He crept up onto Zap and slid his hands over her hips. "You're not wearing those boots..." Just after he'd spoken, his eyes focused on the lightened band of flawless skin on her empty ring finger. *Oh, that's why. Mars pulled away and had a chuckle because... it didn't sound remotely like him. "We need to chat, Eva."