His fingers twine through hers, and for a quiet moment he's unbelievably grateful that she's here at all. After everything they've been through, after everything he's done and been responsible for, he somehow still has this chance at something he's been too stubborn and frightened to admit he craves.

And how many people can say they've taken the most significant and painful emotional risk of their lives and ended up at the ballet with a clever, interesting, and frankly bloody gorgeous woman?

He shifts in his seat a little, clasps her hand just a bit more tightly. The lights start to dim, which seems strangely appropriate. He's sharing a secret in public with her, and she's the only one who can tell how important this is, how firmly she's connected to him on a level he's never let anyone approach before.