Interesting thing about that blush: given that Martin is currently essentially naked, and is so pale that under the right light he's probably capable of blinding small children, it's possible to watch the traces of pinkness bloom all the way down his neck and beyond. She wonders if, under the right circumstances, the blush would tint his entire body pink, and then follows it up by wondering exactly what those circumstances would have to be.

Aaaaaand hold that thought.

"Gimme a sec," she tells him (also through a mouthful of food, because she is every bit as grown-up as Martin is). She undoes her boots in between bites of sandwich, pushing them off before toeing her socks into the remains of last night's clothing, and stretches as she puts down her empty plate and stands.

It's warm in here - the air-con has had it again; the damn thing spends more time broken than fixed - and frankly Martin looks incredibly appealing right now, all ruffled hair and rumpled sheets. So, before she retrieves the tea from her desk, she peels off first her tank top and then her combats, maybe a little slower than normal but not exactly playing for his attention (although she totally is), leaving her in black bra and boxers as she pads the few steps to the desk and carefully passes Martin his mug.

Carefully, because whilst she is more than happy to show off for him, she'd really rather he didn't spill tea over her bed - especially since she plans on getting back into it quite soon.