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Again, as seemed to be a trend with Jonathan, the night progressed in something like an alternate reality; it was far too easy for Jane to pretend that there were to be no consequences for what happened between them.

She had expected to wake to him being gone to work or to the entire thing simply having been a fevered dream, but instead was pulled from sleep by the clanging of pans and the smells of breakfast.

The clothes she had shed still lying on the floor next to the bed were a stark indication that the previous night had been anything but a dream, and while this was initially comforting, it left her feeling a bit unsettled.

It had been so uncomplicated to allow him back into her life, and though she didn't immediately regret it, she was unsure whether or not she soon would.

Only one way to find out, she supposed, changing into clean clothing and checking her appearance in the mirror for vanity's sake before following the noises to the kitchen.

She watched quietly from the doorway for a moment as Jonathan busied himself with making food, intently absorbed in his task. It was so domestic and out of place for him that she couldn't stifle a smile.

"I trust you slept well?" he greeted her without turning away from the stove. She rolled her eyes; of course he would be able to detect her presence without batting an eye.

"I didn't know you could cook," she answered, moving into the kitchen and taking a seat at the island on a stool.

"And why not?" he challenged, flipping what appeared to be an omlette in the pan. "The culinary arts are based first in chemistry. It's all a simple series of chemical reactions."

She considered the idea, nodding. She supposed it was a bit of an insulting assumption to think he'd been living off of Ramen noodles and coffee for the entirety of his adult life.

"Didn't you have work this morning?" she asked, still watching as he moved about her kitchen.

"Wednesdays are my day off, now," he answered, placing food on two plates. "I traded them for Sundays several weeks ago."

She hummed an acknowledgement, unsure how the conversation was supposed to proceed. There had not been much talking the night before, thus leaving many things still unsolved.

He pushed a plate across the island bar to her - an omlette, toast, and a side of bacon - and took a seat on the other side of it with his own plate of food.

"Impressive," she applauded him with a smile. "Thank you."

He gave her what was almost a smile, giving her no indication of what the motivation behind the breakfast happened to be.

They ate their breakfast in silence for a while. She couldn't account for Jonathan's quiet, though she knew her own was simply confusion over what to say.

How did one begin those sorts of conversations, anyway?

"Thinking about something?" he broke the tense silence, taking a sip of his coffee.

"How did you know?" she stalled, pushing food around the plate with her fork.

"Reading expressions is more than half of my job description," he answered with a half smile.

"Right. Silly question," she gave her best attempt at a lighthearted laugh, though it did not play out in too convincing a manner.

"Jane..." he prompted her warningly, not allowing her dodging of the question to go unnoticed.

"I was thinking that - I mean, should we talk about last night?" she asked timidly. "About what it meant?"

She cringed at how patently girlish the sentence sounded, plucked from any number of bad romantic movies. It was a necessary evil however, a conversation which could not be overlooked for long.

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