This was fantastic. Danny was trying his damnedest not to grin (and failing spectacularly). It was rare that he got to lord anything over Jessica Drew. She met most boasts and teasing with long suffering surliness; a witty repartee here, a withering eye roll there. That was just how she operated, and Danny had long since come to accept that the real bedrock of their friendship was a connection over shared childhood trauma and that generally she simply tolerated him. Which, really, he figured was a compliment as far as she was concerned. But for once he had the upper hand and it was not an opportunity he would let go to waste. "We are not," he answered, and happily peeled his sticker name-tag and slapped it onto his chest. Daniel Randrew was ready for his marriage seminar.