He has to keep reminding himself what she told him - he's not going to be called on to heal these sorts of wounds on her. He would do it, no doubt about it, but he might have to drink himself into oblivion afterward to keep his imagination from going into overdrive.

He chooses to focus on this instead - he's never seen her so relaxed, and considering the taste of what she's shown him of what she can do, it is a compliment. He's made a running list in his head of where she seems to accumulate stress, in case she allows this again.

He finishes as he starts, his hands sliding over her back, erasing the last lines of tension with a confident touch. Finally he lets her go, quietly rising to his feet to find the blanket he knows he used to store around here somewhere.