Worth it. The knowledge that Mayerling considers her worth it ("even with the risk it ends terribly") further softens her, her gaze dropping to the wooden floor beneath their feet, her smile small and warm and personal. But what gets her even more, that has her look up, eyes bright, smile still soft, is his certainty that Charlotte would have been glad to help.

She can only hope he's right. Trench is a strange place and there may be a day where that statement is put to the test. For now, though, she squirrels that knowledge away and lets it bring her some reassurance.

The night continues on. They finish the gallery tour but that's hardly where the night ends. From there, she takes him to Cellar Door, to a bustling bar that's hosting an open mic night. She grabs herself a drink after finding them a small table. A wide variety of people take the stage: singers and dancers, poets and artists and storytellers. When Mayerling decides to take to the stage, Sharon sits up taller in her seat and pays closer attention to him than she has any of the others, totally enraptured. She cheers the loudest when he finishes, on her feet, until he returns.

As the night finally winds down and away, sunrise not far off, Sharon walks him back to the place he shares with D, her hand in his. On the doorstep, she pulls him towards her, grinning, to press her lips to his. This kiss lasts longer than the last ones; sweeter and less shy. When she pulls away, she's still grinning, eyes half-lidded.

"The date isn't quite over yet," she whispers to him, "So, don't go to sleep when you get in. Give me an hour, okay?"