Irene took a moment just to kiss her, pouring as much reassurance into it as she could even as her mind worked at double speed. Joke though it was (and truthful-feeling joke though it might have been), that was a fairly unexpected reaction. Especially since, yes, this was Irene's very bed they were in, and she had zero plans to vacate it any time soon.

Or Amaya's arms. Or the island, wholecloth.

"I'm not going anywhere, love," she whispered, nuzzling lightly along Amaya's jaw before lifting her hand back up to cup her face. "I promise. Are you -- have you been worried I might?"

It explained so much. Maybe Irene wasn't the only one with a tricky, painful past.