Gone are the days when Benedict would creep into a room with his shoulders curling in slightly so as to appear as unthreatening as possible; this afternoon, Benedict comes crashing into the room like a whirlwind, not stopping until he's flung both arms around Kate's legs and lifted her clear off the floor, spinning her around in a dizzying circle as he grins up at her joyously, his sharp teeth on full display.

"Your god was listening," he tells her, an utterly nonsensical phrase for him to utter, especially as he doesn't elaborate. Nor does he let her down, seemingly content to keep holding her aloft and beaming up into her face. "I prayed, and he listened."

Benedict prays regularly. He keeps the schedule he learned at the Temple, praying religiously as if one of the Brothers was looking over his shoulder, maintaining a routine he had let slide years ago simply for the fact that it made him feel more at home. The fact that he prayed shouldn't be a surprised. What might be surprising is that he prayed to her Christian god, and apparently his prayer was answered.

(Alternately, the mysterious force that put them here was listening, and felt benevolent enough to grant him a wish, but he prefers the praying idea.)

Finally, he lets Kate slide through his arms, setting her back on her feet and then immediately sinking to his knees in front of her, reaching to hold her hand in his. "My love," he starts, winking up at her, "I am not sure of the specifics of your strange customs, but where I come from, a wife wears her husband's ring."

Producing the box, he lifts it up to her, but doesn't open it just yet. "Do you think you could find it in yourself to wear mine?"