"It makes sure of that, all right," Amy muttered bitterly, squirming in her seat.  She did still want to touch it, it was always at the back of her mind, and she clenched her fist harder to remind herself not to.  But he had invited her to...<br/><br/>She shook off the thought, or tried to, and looked over at him, gathering up her nerve, and half holding out her hand with its lens.  "Do you want to...?  I mean, you don't have to, of course not.  But you looked like you wanted to, and you can if you'd like to.  I'm sorry, I'm being selfish, but... I just wanted you to know it's all right.  If you want to," she finished lamely, almost ready to die from sheer embarrassment.