She always paid special attention to his scars. Some she had been present for, taken care of him just as she had taken care of him the night before. Others he had told her the story of. She knew them as well as she knew her own. She leaned down to press a kiss to a small scar that sat on his pectoral muscle. It had been the scar that helped trigger their first night together. The turning point in their partnership, even if now seemed like an even bigger turning point.

But they weren't quite there yet, and maybe it would come once they had finally given into their physical impulses. Her eyed had stayed dark, her gaze rarely straying from the path of her fingers but when it did they looked up at his face, watching for his reactions.

It was true that the bandages would need to come off and she started with his shoulder, trying to be as gentle as she could be. This wasn't about the ripping off of clothes, or rushing. This was about refamiliarising and reassuring each other.