[She's not sure what changed; she knows, with a prickle of soft instinct, that something has, but she can't put her finger on it, because he's always blunt and stubborn and resigned, but -]

Lucky me.

Doesn't mean you have any real reason not to. Unlike you, I didn't pick my gifts trying to hurt you.

[There's no bitterness; no anger or even surprise. It's something he tried, and it turned out intimate and strange. But facts are facts.]

It's houseplants, Dean. Useful ones. Just water them a little.