His grin fades: not gone, but quieter, more thoughtful.

It's hard to describe. The energy that buzzes up whenever they touch -- it's like chugging a whole cup of coffee, all at once. And it's nice. That's all he can think; it's nice.

Curtis can see himself walking into her room one day, and not immediately thinking Front, or princess. Just Dejah. Just a woman, like she said.

And if he's off the train, stuck in a place where so few people care about Front and Tail...that can't be a bad thing.

"It is," he whispers. "Yeah."