Her heart flips and stutters in her chest at Arthur's words, the idea that he'd want a child with her rather than just to father a child, she supposes, hadn't quite penetrated a skull that's as thick as his can be. It takes her rather longer than she'd like to compose herself to reply, "It won't surprise you that I never considered it an option, even after I came in from the field."

But there is something new now, not a desire, but a soft wistfulness that she would never have expected. She unbuttons the second button of his shirt and leans into him to kiss the small triangle of his chest that she's revealed. "I don't think it's practical, even if we could guarantee that we'd be here and never leave a child behind. We're both far too set in our ways to handle a baby. But--" Her voice softens and her eyes with it when she meets his gaze again. "I can't deny there's a simple--" Not simple, terribly complex and inexplicable, but still simple in its effect. "Pleasure in knowing that you'd want that with me. I love you very much, Arthur." And that is simple.