The laughter is infectious, and Annie finds herself smiling back. The woman's - Amy's - fondness is clear, and, well, if she's not that worried about her husband, Annie's not going to poke at it.

It must be nice, not being worried sick.

"Thank you," she says, and means it. "He's not, actually. But, you might have seen him around. Tall, bronze hair, green eyes, kinda golden-brown skin? Stupidly pretty."

There's no boast in her voice, no real pride, either. She's fond of the man, and that shows, but when someone's that attractive, it becomes simply fact.

Still, she adds, "He can be a peacock," to soften.

(And he is)