Eric shut down like a maximum-security prison, jerking his face away from hers. His fingers went stiff as if she were holding on to clay and not flesh. Of course. As long as they went at his pace, everything was hunky-dory; the minute she established what she needed, he got pissed off. Exasperated, Amber nearly let her breath out in a huff. Hadn't he asked just now if he'd done something wrong? Did he only want her to tell him when he felt like it?

But Amber understood, too. She wasn't exactly cooperating. He'd tried to put the events behind them and she wanted that too. But even if she couldn't go as fast as him, she still wanted to go. So rather than yank her hand back in retribution to his frustration, Amber squeezed his, silently asking him for patience.

It didn't seem to help. Eric freed his hands the first chance he got. Amber let him; she needed to grab her own things. Because she'd rushed into the lab to see him this morning, she hadn't dropped her things off at her locker like she normally did. A quick stop by the conference room and she’d picked up her purse and coat.

That should be time enough to sulk. Amber walked quickly back to the office where Eric was waiting and opened the door. "So we're still going to Mickey's?" Amber was hungry enough for lunch, though she wasn't quite sure what they'd talk about. She just refused to apologize for not letting him touch her when she didn't want him to. "If you promise to stop sulking, you can ask me anything you like and I won't get angry." There. That was fair, a trade. Never let it be said that Amber wasn't goal-oriented.