Sunshine blinks at the sudden warmth of his hand over hers, surprised by the gesture. It's more… paternal… than what she would have expected, given how stodgy he's seemed up until now. She blinks again when he pulls back, then says, "Well, I brought it up." And she could have just told him to mind his own business.

It's a relief when he steers the conversation around to his universe, instead. She's even getting used to the idea of people going about their business unawares of the supernatural stuff that surrounds them. Manhattan has been something of a crash course on that subject.

"Sounds like delicate work," Sunshine says, leaning back into her chair. It also sounds delightfully small-scale compared to her universe. She can't even condescend to him about how nice it must be to have such a tiny demonic problem that keeping it under wraps is even an option; she's too busy being envious.