By time Quinn started to realize that this was about to turn into a really awkward time of her trying to climb off his lap with as much dignity as she could muster, she was already trying to figure out her exit plan. Maybe she could just leave and catch a cab or... she could go on a walk.

But she knew she didn't actually want to be alone. There was this very distinct and foreign ache to be close to someone right now and she was having a hard time pinpointing where that was coming from. She wasn't good at emotion.

Quinn pulled back and brushed at Francis' shirt to occupy herself, "sorry."