Diana smiled, then looked down at the table. Her cup stood among Ana's notes. She couldn't remember when she'd last thought about the time. She checked her watch. “Oh.”
“Do you need to go?”

“Soon.” She stayed seated.

Ana closed the computer and moved it aside. They were still close, with no screen to look at now. “Did you have lunch?” Ana asked.

“Yes.”

“I'm trying to remember if I did.”

“That doesn't sound promising.”

“I had something standing up. I'm not sure it qualified.”

“You should eat.”

“I will.”

Diana nearly offered to go with her. She could see how easily it would happen: a place down the street, another table, the conversation continuing. She had eaten lunch. She wasn't hungry. She wanted another hour. She stood. “I've kept you.”

“You've kept me company.” Ana gathered the cups. Diana followed her to the kitchen with the empty tray.

They stood talking while Ana rinsed the cups for recycling. Diana asked about the armchair, and Ana told her how she'd bought it before measuring the elevator.

“You brought it up five floors?”

“With help.”

“I hope you like it.”

“I have to now.”

Diana leaned against the counter. Ana turned from the sink, drying her hands. “Sit in it before you pass judgment.”

“I haven't passed judgment.”

“You looked at it.”

“I'm allowed to look at your furniture.”

“You have a particular way of looking.”

Diana began to object, then laughed because she knew exactly what Ana meant. Ana did an imitation of her considering the chair: a brief appraisal, a barely perceptible reconsideration, one eyebrow lifting.

“I do not do that.”

“You do.”

“Not with my eyebrow.”

Ana did it again.

Diana reached out and caught her arm, laughing. “Stop.”

Ana smiled at her, and Diana kissed her. The laugh stopped between them. For a moment Diana felt only the astonishing fact of Ana's mouth against hers. Then she drew back.

Ana was looking at her. Diana still had hold of her arm. “Oh,” Ana said softly.

Diana hadn't meant to do that. She had been laughing. She had been about to leave.

Ana's free hand rose to Diana's face and rested there. She waited.

Diana could have stepped away. She could still pick up her bag, take her jacket, go home. She turned her face into Ana's hand. Then she kissed her again.