He was just out of reach if he pressed back very, very far. Her arms were too short, and half-curled toward her middle to make a fence, block his hands.

It didn't quite work. Skitter, skitter, skitter-- his new fingers were very well suited to this kind of thing, tapered and long.

"Well." It was just a huff of air; Christine almost unbalanced him and he wriggled to the side. "If we matched," his eyebrows quirked higher, "things would be more even."