As pragmatic as she was, Peggy liked to think she had her limits. Linking hands had been a simple boundary -- especially if (as she'd initially planned) they'd made good on simply walking hand-in-hand for the majority of their time spent together. Then, she reasoned, they wouldn't need to even begin contemplating anything more. Problem was, she was already busted up. Hurting. As certain as she was that he could fend for himself and that she (when in good form) could handle most of her own safety, she knew her state left her wanting. She couldn't run. She couldn't fight. The passcode was more vital now than it had been an hour ago.

But she wouldn't steal more than a bare brush. Frowning, and chewing silently, she offered her whole palm. No words necessary.