"So," she echoes, but there's no real reply, nothing to follow it up. Meredith's in no mood to get into that, not when he's already complying and she can watch him, rising up on her elbows just enough to take advantage of the movement to kiss along his chest. Twisting halfway onto her side, she searches blindly in the pockets. She'd be faster if she could just focus, she knows, but she'd rather pay attention to the slope of his shoulder, the line of his neck, the familiar taste of his skin as she nips playfully at him, smoothing over the tiny bites with her tongue. Distracted or not, though, it's a relief when her fingers close on the package and she pulls it out.