"Right." It's not a question, except for how it is. Charlie's fingers stay tight, grip sure despite the insistent slide of her knee and the carefully drawn back needle point. There's some release of tension in the joint of his elbow, but it's minor and negligible - give him enough reason and it'd be quick to come back. "You'll have to spell that one out for me, love."

Because god only knows what it is that she's aiming for beyond brushing up against the line of his cock through thin suit fabric.