She sneezes as she is on her way to leave the airstream, and when Jane whispers I'm sorry at her back, she can hear the grin in his voice- almost as he was chuckling- and she knows he is everything but sorry.
Actually, he is awfully pleased- and she is pretty sure she knows the reason. It's because he knows her- he can read her now- and because he just damn knows how turned on she just is.
She stops, dead on her track, the breath dying in her throat as she blushes, her chest tightening for the onslaught of emotion. She has been wet and ready for him since she had first heard his voice in her ear, few hours before, and… and… and she hasn't had him in days, and then he got the vest back- knowing that it was what pushed all her lust buttons- and then he was sick and they couldn't do anything and now… now…
She groans and rolls her eyes, mostly at herself, and then turns back, and slowly she reaches her lover once again; Jane has his hands behind his head, and is smiling all proud and satisfied, like he had always knew she would have eventually came to him.
She smiles, shaking her head. "I really hate you, you know?"
He grins as he sits up, taking her hand in his own and pulling her down on top of him; he looks at her deeply – and from his previous words, she knows that they are forever now- and he really doesn't know what to say.
(Probably because they don't need words between them. Not any longer, at least.)
She smiles, runs one hand down his vest, skimming over the material with perfectly manicured nails, the other caressing his cheek, running through his unruly curls.
She ends up spending the night, and helps him out sweating off the fever (besides, it's not like she isn't already sick as well).