"Take it back to your husband to be. Pull him in close," Sawyer suggests, demonstrating as he reaches out and brings his hand down to the small of Porthos' back, spanning generously across with his long fingers. "Long as you've both got the rhythm, the rest is whatever you wanna make of it. Can't tell you how many times I've gotten lucky by being able to hold a beat."

He grins. "Not that you'd know it anymore with how often I get out of the apartment."