"I hardly think I'm a threat to your virtue." Her tone is sharp, unexpectedly hurt but not surprised at his rejection.
"I never-"
"No, but you're refusing because you think it isn't proper." Emotion flickers across his face and she knows she's right. She sighs. She knows him too well to stay angry at him. "You're my dearest friend. I don't know what I would do without you," her tone changes to lightly teasing, "but I don't want to kiss you."
He huffs out a breath of relieved laughter. She smirks at him for that.
"I'm glad. Well, it's not- not that-," his expression quickly turns from relief to apologetic anxiety as he stumbles over his words. "I mean. It's not that you aren't smart, or- or attractive or- well-"
"You don't want to kiss me either?" It's a matter of fact question.
"No."
So," she prods, "if we don't like each other like that, then there is nothing improper in comforting each other."
"But-" He's looks taken aback and confused. She watches as he tries to form some complaint or argument but cannot manage.
Gently, she explains further. "We keep an eye on the staff because it could indicate - or escalate - to something that is potentially damaging to themselves and their futures, is immoral, or ruins the professionalism necessary to properly run this house." He nods in agreement. "But if we are agreed that neither of us feels like that, then there's no worry of anything untoward happening, is there?" Her nerves get the better of her pragmatism "Of course, that's only if you're being completely honest..."
He draws himself up, looking offended. "I have never been anything other than completely honest with you. Grant me that at least."
She smiles at that. They have always been honest with each other. The happiness quickly slips into exasperation at this very dear, extremely foolish man. "That is exactly my point. Now, Charles, will you please just accept a hug?"
"Gladly."
He isn't the reason why she turned down Joe, she isn't the reason he turned down Haxby. But doesn't that just show how compatible they are - that they both chose this house, and their jobs, and their usefulness? And they are compatible. More than just living the same lives for years upon years. It's not romantic love, it never has been, but they're more than brother and sister, more than the best of friends. She knows this - has picked it carefully apart, sorted it in her head, contemplated and mulled and rearranged it until she knows she is right. It is love, the truest and deepest of loves, even if it's platonic.
His jacket is warm and rough against her cheek as she wraps her arms around him, running one hand up and down his back. He does not cling to her, but he does hold her firmly, pressing her to him as he relents and accepts the comfort she offers.
They are not lovers, not husband and wife, not siblings, not just friends - they are partners. Always and forever.