Robin wasn't expecting that. He looks back at her, a little dumbstruck with surprise, hand moving halfway up to his face before he becomes acutely aware of his own movement again. The hand drops back down towards the bed.

"Just--just don't make this a habit," he says, the only comeback he could think of. His smile is poorly hidden, threatening to break through the cracks of an otherwise relaxed and collected composure.

Finch used to do that. It's all he can really get through his mind. Finch used to do that.