She doesn't look away, though she'd like to. It's difficult not to think of the other conversation-- one he hasn't had yet-- and the deja vu is dissonant. Not unpleasant, not exactly, but confusing. As if it wasn't difficult enough already to decide what she wanted from him.

"Exactly that," she answers evenly, voice low, with a shrug of her shoulders. She shifts a little, leaning in almost imperceptibly, a faint smile on her lips. "It happened once, at home, without becoming a big deal," she reminds him. "I don't think it's unhealthy to enjoy ourselves. We're both adults, both rational and healthy-- we work together, we've known each other longer than we've known anyone here."