Correct. That would defeat the purpose, [Barclay answers, but his voice is gentler now, a little worried that this could be more hassle than it's worth. On the other hand, it's early yet. He knows she'd speak her mind, if she didn't want it anymore. He leaves it be, his knee secure under her fingers and his own arm braced firmly around her waist.] But we're about here. It wasn't far. [The car is slowing. She can feel the way the inertia leans through her petite frame until they're at a stop.]

I think I'm going to carry you once we're out. Make life a touch easier. All right?

[The sound of the door opening. The breeze slides in. For a moment-- transient-- there's the faint scent of brine, but the next, it's perfume of flowers gathered up against her bosom, a tinge of acrid exhaust in the background. His hand guides her by the arm, reassuring, easing her out.]