[ If only she had a Sharpie. Maybe she could go collect some of whatever had been left on their grave couches after the jump and write his name on all the containers. That would surely send a message, though she's not sure it would send the right one. Instead, Claire busies herself with lamenting over the fact that she is not going to see a table magically cleared, literally, and begins the process of loading the dishwasher, which, thankfully, won't take long.

At his question, Claire presses her mouth into a thin line until she is forced to soften it by saying - ]

Um. [ Some of the dishes clank together and slip to the side, and she has to bend momentarily to right them and slip them back into their proper slots. Straightening up, she smooths stray hair back from her forehead with a damp hand. ] Well I made sure the dogs were all settled before I came up. They're pretty worn out, actually - thanks for that, by the way - so I don't have to - I mean, I could, you know, stay up here. For a while. With you. If you wanted.

[ She's barely seen him in like eight days so she refuses to be embarrassed about going and taking a nap with him. ]