[Someone who knows everything. Someone utterly irreplaceable. He can understand why she would feel like nothing could come close. He's not sure what could. He doesn't know anything like that.

He smiles sadly at her little joke. Indeed, the process of friend-making is a difficult and contradictory loop.]

How we're supposed to. [He repeats, though he's honestly not sure what that even entails. Does his usual script for taking out clients count? Probably not.

She tells him not to laugh and he lifts a brow, but the reason becomes evident. She recites, just as she did before, words flowing perfectly. It's almost enough to make him miss the rhyme itself. Almost, but still not quite enough to save him from a struggle of twitching lips and noises he's got to shove down and smother.]

You chose a funny restaurant joke and you don't want me to laugh.

[He is making a very valiant effort.]

The food's fine. Honestly, I'm used to letting clients pick things out. This isn't bad at all.