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The grin was met with a soft, cheerful laugh. No matter how many times Mimsy saw it, the differences in context and circumstances meant that it was a new expression of luminous positivity every time, gifting her with more information to file away into the category of 'Evokes That Smile From Robert'.

"I would like that. A honeymoon that ensures we will never be apart when we return." The idea was both incredibly productive and exciting, and she couldn't help smiling at him for thinking of it - especially when he kept grinning at her like that. "I think that this idea is both brilliant and practical for all facets of our needs."

As she thought more about it, she carefully took the necklace and placed it back in its spot at the very end of the line of tools. A pensive silence fell over her as she nudged the chain into a perfectly straight line with her nail; at a distance, it now matched the rigid silver instruments exceptionally well.

"I want to wait," she announced, seemingly unprompted. She looked over the tools next to them, passing over each of them several times before she continued to speak. "I would rather do this together, now that I have learned of your interest in similarly possessing one. I want to wait. Is that all right?"

There were not any sensible reasons to extract the tissue now that she could think of, but it didn't seem right to decide without asking.

The spread of various tools did look fairly intimidating in an objective sense, Mimsy supposed. There were many sharp edges and tips that appeared to be extremely pointy and an assortment of worrisome features in between, but the majority of them were harmless.

She shook her head and leaned to pick up just one of them - it resembled a syringe, but was dissimilar enough to be recognizably separate.

"Just this one," she explained, allowing it to roll into her palm as she held it up towards him. "I don't know if you have any experience with using these yet, but it is a biopsy needle. No incision, and it should not be painful, but there might be slight discomfort from the pressure that will be applied to collect the requisite tissue. It should be possible in spite of your bond, but I can adjust as necessary."

With the needle still in one hand, she reached up to touch his face with the other, fingers brushing over his brow as if they could smooth the symptoms of worry away.

"I am certain." Her hand stopped moving, resting on his cheek as she stared up at him over the frames of her glasses. "I have no inclination to move quickly on this, especially if my haste might result in imperfection. I think that I have proven my precedent to opt out of taking any action until the most optimal opportunity presents itself, correct?"

That had been the case about a thousand times over, but it was probably obvious what she was hinting at.

Seeing the way that Robert instinctively covered up his heart made Mimsy feel unexpectedly sick. She frowned and pulled his hands away, clutching them in the space between them, preventing him from putting them back without taking her with him.

It felt better, once she did, which was just what she expected.

"Then they must not be doing biopsies," she firmly concluded, tone casual enough to seem truly sincere. "I will teach you. I know that you will have no trouble succeeding. We can do our own!"

Probably not the best of ideas, but the thought of collecting all matter of tissue samples from multiple sources at the same time was too enticing not to think about.

"Yes, then we stick each other with needles." She laughed, her fingertips pressing against the edge of his smile. The touch shared the same instinctual desire that pinning a butterfly might - a hope to preserve it, to keep it there so she could admire it as long as she wanted.

"And what comes after the needles?" This was beginning to be very different in comparison to the standard chart of progression that she had mapped out so long ago, even if she didn't want to admit it. Maybe it wasn't abnormal. Perfection was very difficult to achieve, so it stood to reason that no one else had yet, which would result in skewed data of what a 'normal' marriage even was.

The thought of being the first made her skin prickle with goosebumps, and she eagerly awaited his answer with the glimmer in her wide eyes that always seemed to indicate a mind full of numbers and variables.

The way he answered seemed to imply that there were no more steps after this after all - they were already married, and had already been living as a married couple in their home for a fair amount of time now. That was part of the reason that Mimsy had timed the collection of the sample, but she had not stopped to consider what achieving this stage meant for their future.

She felt a bit sheepish when she realized why that was. It was as close to guilty as she could reach without assistance.

"Congratulations!" she belatedly called after him, well into the period of time that she should have answered his questions in. Still on a bit of a mental delay, she folded the dishcloth to protect the tools before trailing behind him into the other room.

"That is permissible, to my knowledge, though I admittedly did not use my leave very frequently until we...well." Was it too soon for another congratulations? "So I will trust your judgment! Perhaps we could plan to spend a week of leave at some point regardless. It would be like running away together, but temporary!"

The logic was sound, and she could spend hours arguing as much.

"Let's tell them together," she suggested, extending her hand towards him when she finally caught up to him again. "I have somehow found myself with a surplus of free time today."

It was not particularly surprising when Robert agreed to what she had asked, but the plan that he voiced in the moments afterward left Mimsy feeling drastically off-kilter. She exhaled slowly as she moved to sit down, and leaned to put her elbows on her knees to prop her head up.

There was someone missing from that tiny little list, and she was engulfed with disbelief that she had not considered this fact before now. Each time she had envisioned it, Lucky would have been there. He had been there (in part) in Wonderland, and it had seemed so obvious that he would attend this wedding in turn.

Maybe it was the fact that she had been so sure that he would wake up before now.

"Yes," she quietly replied, voice muffled as she continued to rest her chin in her hands. "Shu, and Jordan, and Camille, please. In the absence of a brother, I would like to have a sister. I could ask for her to be my...maid?"

That didn't exactly sound right. She looked up towards Robert with a helplessly inquisitive expression, pleading for an answer that might help her feel less lost.

Ah, that made more sense. The belief that she was fortunate to have Robert was not an infrequent one for Mimsy, but she was especially gracious at the moment. 'Maid' and 'Maid of Honor' were two very different things, and requesting each would likely yield very different results. Just the knowledge of that simple fact functioned wonderfully to guide her back to comparably stable ground.

"Yes! Yes, I think so. That will work nicely." One was missing from the list again, but she suspected a less troubling reason this time. She gave him a knowing grin, the co-conspirator of some inside joke or devious plan, and tilted her head. "Are you trying to engineer a scenario in which the one perceived as the 'best' is saved for last? That is biased favoritism, husband."

Her mouth formed a thin line that looked stern for about half a second before it quivered and curled into a smile.

"I don't mind," she assured him, as she managed to push herself up to stand again. Once steady, she stretched her arms up towards him like a child wanting to be held, but wrapped them loosely around his neck instead. "I can keep this secret as our own. But if you aren't nice to me, I might tell them. Then they would be sad, as would I. That would be four sad people. We should strive to avoid that!"

Surely he would agree that was way too many sad people.

As impractical as it was, Mimsy seemed to be sated by Robert's rebuttal about saving the best for last. It did make perfect sense, when she thought about it, even if it the reason for discussing weddings with Jordan later rather than sooner didn't occur to her. Of course he thought that she was the best. Thinking otherwise was a bit of a ridiculous oversight.

In an effort to avoid shaming her own observational skills, she dropped the argument and returned the kiss. The time of responding rigidly to him was still well in the past, and her response now was about as opposite that as it could have been. She relaxed until her head drooped, her forehead gently knocking against his as her head came to rest there. Her feet swung slowly back and forth as he carried her, like those of a wiry ragdoll, and her arms were as heavy as they could be on his shoulders as her weight shifted towards him.

"Before we start talking to him about weddings," she corrected, now belatedly. "But I have no further corrections. I checked your math in triplicate, and it is indeed right."

Except for the sad people who didn't matter, but they didn't matter, so they would have to deal with those consequences on their own.

"I think that we should go to them. It is only fair, after all, for us to put in effort in this regard." She smiled and closed her eyes, her nose brushing against his in the midst of her change of expression. "I doubt that I need to remind you that we do not have the strongest record of remaining on task within this home, either."