Liliana unfastened her seatbelt, and, carefully, ever so carefully so as to not knock over the Ebony, crawled over the divider to straddle his lap. Not usually the reason (or the emotions) she did this for, but she was adaptable.

"It's not a dream," she promised him, leaning in not for a kiss, but to bite his lip. Look, pinching was for squares. "Even if it feels like one sometimes. This--everything about today, about me, it's real. And you're allowed to be this happy, even outside of your dreams."

She reached for the can and took a sip. Okay, she could admit it, it was damn good coffee.

But then leaned forward to kiss him for real this time, letting him taste the coffee on her lips, on her tongue, the way he so often preferred to taste the food he made for her.