"Younger me could hardly ever be called skilled in anything. Could barely avoid a pebble let alone an Auror." He let an amused chuckle ease out of him. He hadn't given much consideration to his age, while he held no extended life due to his Fae blood, it seemed like something frivolous to consider when his job had such a high mortality rate. "It does seem like they're taking literal babies off the street and trying to give them training doesn't it? I think 'Highly trained' would be giving them too large of a wand there." Jonathan knew the elite forces weren't anything to sneeze at, that even the more general department of Auror's were formidable, at least, formidable to those that could be considered fledglings in their talents.
"I'm sure if you go snooping around you'd be fine anyways. Being old enough to be someone's mother, you're practically halfway to being called a, 'Ma'am'." It seemed it had been his own time to offer up a teased shot about her age. "It feels as if you've been a radio host for several years now." Admittedly, he had tuned in once or twice, aware that that it'd been her on the other end for sometime. But he'd never expected or intended to reconnect with his past, yet, here he had been. It felt much different than back then, they were in different places and mindset and no longer teenagers trying to hide their dirty deeds.
"Judging by your taste, It's clear, Saffron had to receive all of what you never got. I think there maybe hope for your home yet with her at the helm of decorating." The way she spoke, it'd given him the impression that she had wanted a father figure in their daughter's life, that she fully had no intent to bar certain interactions. The escalation of the use of her bed piqued that hypothesis even further which caused a sly smirk to curve at the corner of his lips towards her. "If you're so sure, I would need to test its durability to see just how strong of a bed you will need. If it's been repaired that often then it may be on its last legs sooner than you believe." His own way of being coy yet letting his own intention of willingness be known. It seemed that the kiss on that night may have sparked old feelings that had long been assumed buried in forgetfulness.
Jonathan took a sip from the cup of coffee, the various shades of indigo and black that laced the outline of his eyes stared into the dark liquid that swished in the cup. "I'd be an idiot to place an assumption on what he may or may not know. There are plenty of factors, but I do not intend to tell him of her or of you." Trying to keep the both of them safe meant as much anonymity as he could offer, as long as it could go. His eyes shifted towards her hand and then traveled up to stare at the Half-Veela's features. He hadn't expected her to take it so well, but then he'd have been selling her short after experiencing what she could do when pushed. "I don't know if I will 'take over'. I'm a Hitman, they typically don't, leadership doesn't often come as part of the package or capability. I'm just placed in a . . . Peculiar situation with it." He hadn't earned enough accolades to create his own family, not by the bylaws of the Company.
"But if things manage out the way that some would desire it, then yes, in a way. Though something tells me that you're enjoying that thought for other reasons entirely."