It hadn't passed her by that he'd been grossly nonconclusive about what he was planning to do with his future. Tomorrow they could argue about it all they liked, but she didn't know that she'd win, and even if he went home under the guise of 'visiting' then he couldn't know that he'd even be safe for five minutes -

She was barely tipsy, enough to smooth things over a little, but not drunk and definitely not making-terrible-decisions drunk. So she had to assume this was a good decision. She shifted their positions, pushing at his shoulder until he was sitting up and she was over him, knees digging into the couch cushions on either side of his lap.