"I miss French sometimes," he says with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "I never say anything that's essential for you to know." He smiles playfully and takes another sip of coffee. "Maybe I ought to save my French inclinations for when you're not as interested in conversing with me."

The thought of murmuring French nothings against Watson's skin is fairly appealing. Would Watson find as much fault with that as he does with breakfast conversation?