"What I mean is that I can be wherever you are, and-- be happy."

There. Now he is sure.

Mindful of the still full glass of wine, the Fool carefully leans up and across the table to do the only thing that comes to mind after a heartfelt confession like that: he kisses Devin warmly on the mouth, cradling his face with one hand while the other steadies him against the table. (Holly, who had been curled comfortably in his lap, protests some at being dislodged--but she'll get over it. your parents are busy, Holly, learn to share)

He draws back only enough to rest his forehead against Devin's, his eyes closed but his smile affectionately curling up the corners of his lips. The relief--the happiness--that wells up in side of him still feels as though it should belong to someone else, and he firmly pushes aside the notion that there must be some cost to this down the road. Fate has never been so generous to him before, but perhaps the Dreaming has interceded on his behalf. He is allowed to enjoy this.

"Where shall we start?" he asks at length, meeting Devin's eyes. "Looking for a new new place."