Her brow furrows and she looks at him for a long moment.

"You didn't have to." Her gaze falls to his hands, and she wishes she could physically reach across this chasm between them and pull him closer. "But -- you're welcome."

She could point out that he never properly apologised either, but that's a moot point. He'd berated her for falling the wrong way, but he'd never come right out and apologised for putting a bullet in her guts. Her expression flickers with the memory of his face, forty feet high and bellowing her name. They agreed in the garage that the fight was behind them. She's never felt any need to bring it back up.

"That's almost ancient history, don't you think?" He can't think she still holds that against him.