Vincent immediately turns to face the door, one eyebrow creeping up.<br/><br/><em>Oh.  It's her.</em><br/><br/>One hand steals to his pocket, where he's kept 'her' chocolates, safely wrapped away from his body heat.  For a moment, he even almost smiles.<br/><br/><em>Now, how does one arrange a clandestine exchange of chocolates for opinions?</em>