He followed her lead, gathering the things he was faster at collecting, then taking them into the kitchen. He'd almost stopped her, almost told her she didn't have to pick up after breakfast, but there was something... sweet... something homey about it, and he'd forgotten that sensation for so long that it took him until he got to the kitchen sink to figure out exactly why he hadn't stopped her in the first place. Running water over the dishes, he stacked them neatly and efficiently after their brief cleansing, then turned off the faucet and dried his hands.
"So," he said, leaning against the sink. "Are you ready to head to the beach?" He expected her answer to be a great smile and nod. Expected... and hoped. In his pocket, he felt the weight of the item hiding there, and swallowed.