Standing in the middle of the room with the woman's leg wound around him was probably his favorite place to be. That was possibly single track minded, but he hardly cared. Nothing was so perfect as having her wound around him. She nuzzled against him and John decided that was enough of a cue to carry her off to her bed. Her question did stop him momentarily before he continued. He set her down on the edge of the bed and knelt between her legs. Looking up at her, John shrugged while simultaneously sliding his hands up underneath her shirt. "Yes..." he shrugged, "well, no... I don't care what the bloody hell it is, to be honest. I get to be a father." He leaned forward just as that last bit left him, lifting her shirt just enough so he could smile and kiss her stomach.