[She doesn't stop him, and that itself seems to open the door just that touch wider. Instead of merely brushing aside an errant lock Rip twirls the strands of hair about his fingers, toying with the shape of the curl that still remains even after their partnering has left her hair fussed and messy. It's a pleasant enough distraction while Peggy attempts to point out the flaw in his logic. Certainly she isn't wrong; Rip does not smile, not even then, despite the touch of amusement he finds in her words.

But Peggy isn't so incapable of deeper perceptions to not realize what's happened. After all, her observation of his actions earlier is what has brought them to this point.]

If you are so concerned about the state of my accounts, Miss Carter—then perhaps you can be persuaded to help balance them a bit further still. [She is still there, after all. Still beautiful and stunning and sharp-witted as she's always been. Once more Rip crosses that canyon between them, violating borders with deliberate intent as this time he kisses her. It's a dangerous proposal, he understands all too well—and yet isn't so much of their reasoning for these Wednesdays to separate themselves from the world beyond his door?

He would do so again, should she let him. The question is in the kiss now, slowly and deliberately asked.]