When Daneel starts to speak in that particular grave tone of his, Ned is momentarily worried. He is expecting a serious question - and in a way, it is. For a brief moment he thinks Daneel is jealous of Meyer, or making suppositions about their relationship that are entirely incorrect, but then Daneel corrects that notion before he can even voice it. Once he hears what this is really about, Ned laughs. He knows he shouldn't. Even if Daneel insists he doesn't have a sense of pride to be wounded, it seems cruel. All the same, he cannot help himself. He dissolves into giggles, leaning heavily against Daneel and then burying his face in Daneel's shoulder, grinning from ear to ear, shoulders shaking as he tries to get a hold of himself.

"I honestly don't even know where to start," he says, voice rich with amusement and a little breathless with laughter. He wipes the moisture from the corners of his eyes and says, "You're so sweet sometimes, you know." Daneel might not see it that way, but Ned doesn't care. He can find it sweet enough for the both of them.

"Am I right in assuming that the, the ah-" he breaks into another fit of giggles, wonders if the stress from the power going out and the last few days is fueling some of this borderline hysteria of his, "-literature you were using for your research was novels of the romance persuasion?"

When he has Daneel's confirmation, Ned shakes his head sagely, still grinning fit to split his face. "That's your problem right there. Romance novels are not, I repeat, are not meant as instruction manuals." It would seem that Daneel at least came across some rags-to-riches ones, rather than anything involving pirates or savages or misunderstood brooding men, possibly with motorcycles. He meets Daneel's eyes, flushed with laughing, asks, affectionately, "Were you researching because of me?"