She paid no mind to Malou's undressing. The pair had shared a space for so long that Fallon was certain she had seen it all at one point or another. Instead, she reached over to the second empty glass on the table and poured Malou a drink of her own. Long days were drinking days, at least in Fallon's mind.

"There's some leftovers on the counter, I picked them up on the way home from work." An ample serving was left for Malou of the chicken dish, as always when the non-chef of the pair sourced dinner. Fallon might not be a cook, but she made enough to comfortably buy dinner at least once a week. Although, now that she might have a marriage in her future she wondered just how much she ought to be squirreling away.