Janet looks down at the two of them with-- sorry, is that heartburn? Something weird is definitely happening to her chest. It takes her a second to identify it. Fondness. Like the feeling she used to get when Eliot would come tell her about some boy who'd broken his heart, then lay his head in her lap and declare that they were going to grow old together, because no boy was as good as her.

"Definitely crunchy," she says, "if our lead researcher here agrees."