It couldn't be replaced. That was why she didn't get it. It was history. It was like the Moby Dick. A part of him that he'd worked toward. Put money toward. Something for Namur and him so they could actually get around. It was what had got them through so much.

It was fine that she didn't get it. He grinned at her words while she straightened his shirt and tried to push the cold inside him to more managable levels since they didn't matter right now. Instead he cupped her chin with his fingers.

"You're a dream, sweetheart." And he meant it. Sometimes a nightmare, true, but not always. Sometimes she was just too damn sweet. He gave her a brief kiss to the forehead.