"As often as it amuses us," Xavier answered, trusting her body language enough to wrap his arm around her waist as they walked. There was no possessiveness to the gesture; it was about touch, and connection. "So, yes, often. Am I walking you home? Have to make sure you'll treat the beret right."
She was so tiny against him, and it made him smile; he knew better than to think less of anyone, man or woman, on account of their size. He had a good head and a half on his mother, and she could dress him down better than the tallest man he'd ever met. Fire, Luke had called Bree, and there was a flame in her eyes that confirmed that.
That, and the sometimes fierce mood Xavier had seen her in, in the short time he'd known her.