"Is it morning?" she wonders vaguely. "...Also, I wasn't - thinking clearly - should I apologize for establishing the link when I was still, ah, contagious?"
"It might be morning. I'm sure it's morning somewhere." He laughs. "And could you not tell I liked it?"
"It might not have been a welcome surprise," she says, but she kisses him.
And can't believe she almost - that they -
Now she's thinking about the circumstances immediately prior to this escapade and she's pissed off at the "repatriation" again; the amnesty was real, the ceremony was a ruse, and the timing was all too... convenient.
"If Vulcan hadn't been a founding civilization of the Federation, the Federation wouldn't admit it without demanding an update on the practices they invoked," she mutters.
She's about to say something else on that subject, but then she sighs, returns her attention to more immediate needs, and says: "I don't know about you, but I need about a gallon of water and a shower and breakfast."
"Sounds like a plan," he says, kissing her forehead. "Water, shower, breakfast. Let's do it."
And then she says, "I might be the only person pardoned for a felony in order to entice me into trapping distance, but I can't be the only person who's been surprised with an engagement."
She nods grimly, and sets about work on her eggs. "I suppose I'm well poised to become a public figure; I may as well campaign about more than one issue." Fruit salad, om nom.