Penelope’s sitting with Schneider in his apartment after dinner, just the two of them. He’s going on and on about seahorses, and it's more than she thinks she'd ever want to know (of his many hobbies, one that’s managed to stick), and she finds herself watching his face more than listening. He really does love those little guys, she thinks, smiling softly.
Schneider loves, it’s what he does.
Elena and Alex have both left, started college, and although they’re her babies and she’ll never stop worrying, it’s less of a constant these days. Things feel a little more settled, like she can catch her breath. And in the calm, she’s begun thinking of herself, and what she might want after all.
She realizes Schneider’s stopped, grinning at her expectantly, and he must’ve asked her something or made a joke and she’s meant to roll her eyes—but she’s missed her line. His expression turns questioning, and she knows the look on her own face must be something along the lines of unbearably fond.
“I’m sorry,” though she doesn’t sound it. “I wasn’t listening.”
And he’s just started to look offended when she leans in and presses her lips to his.
He goes still, and she can feel the question in it. A Schneider who’s conscious is a Schneider in motion, always trying to adapt, and she likes the idea that she’s made him pause.
She presses against him a little more firmly, decisively, and feels him start to smile, tilting his head to respond, warm hand sliding gently into her curls.
It’s not that she needs this, needs a man, not in that empty lonely way she’d felt when she was younger. She’s happy, surrounded by love and purpose as she is. Her blessings are many and her life feels fulfilled.
But she’s begun to think she deserves something nice. And it just so happens, she’d like to be nice to him.