[She not only spares herself the question of expectation, but also Rip. There are a few things he could provide in reply if pressed, quiet conversation and the warmth of the drink to be sure. But if she were to ask him, boldly, brazenly, just what he might have planned for the night, their first together since their dance at the wedding?

The only answer he might have been able to voice would have been Elton John.

Things takes a different turn, however. She chides him for that sudden spark of optimism, and on some level Rip understands that Peggy is right to do so. After all, this is hardly a guarantee of anything resembling escape, or even of securing the data. Still--

Still.]

I'm hardly one known for unfounded optimism, Miss Carter. [Even if the hint of a grin still plays along his lips, and there's a light in his eye that does not often nor easily shine.] I assure you, it's nothing more than celebration of a singular moment. You have my word that I will keep all hopes well checked.

[He must; Rip can remember the last time he believed a solution in view, one celebrated too soon with a drink of whiskey. His eagerness nearly led to the death of them all, a reminder now cemented as he picks up his glass for another sip.

She isn't wrong to have slapped his wrist as she has.]