[he chuckles, his hat and jacket disappearing without so much as a snap.]

Well. I do want to be helpful, and stress can be terrible for you...

[he crosses the room, stopping in front of him and holding out his hands. free license to be pulled in, if desired.]

Although, it would help if I knew what I was distracting you from.

[the consideration for his position in things would be enough to melt his metaphorical heart, if it weren't already pleasantly decimated by the Captain's eagerness. he doesn't even bother falling gracefully, only concerned with not jamming his bones into places that would hurt.]

Ahhhh, I see. Yes, I could see that making things trickier than usual. [and if this were a few months ago, he'd be using that concern to try and steer them towards a happier application. but his priorities have changed, and his view on torture has... matured. or maybe he's simply exhausted the majority of his goodwill.]

Does it help to know that I couldn't care less where they place the blame? [he drags his fingers along the buttons on the Captain's shirt.] I'd prefer them to hold me responsible, instead of trying to take it out on you or our cohorts.

Hmm... I see your point. I do have a box of spare parts in my closet, but putting myself together is both a literal and metaphorical pain.

[Clarke should thank her lucky stars that he isn't throwing her under the bus here and now.]

Then again, precious few of them know what I'm capable of. They're used to me being... heh. Pleasant. And they don't realize how tired I am of their attitude.

Technically, I've already been there and done that.

[he's silent for a moment, head tilting as he observes the Captain.]

I would be neither glad nor resentful of the duty, but if you needed it, I would do it.

It's one of the downsides of this nasty little heroic streak I have. But I happen to be fantastic at compartmentalizing when duty calls.

[he leaves the offer on the table, just in case, although he becomes distracted tracing his fingers up his neck and across his jaw.]

They're not going to do anything to me. They'd be too intimidated by your retaliation, and they won't want to upset Fio. I may very well be the most well-protected passenger on board.

I would rather kill half of the people on this ship than cause her any more disappointment than I already had.

[this is a great flirting technique, right? he digs his fingers into his beard, finally climbing into the Captain's lap.]

Thankfully, that will not be a choice I'll need to make, because they're all better than that. The only risk I run is losing some friends... and that just means more time to spend with you.

[he won't say it aloud, but if it weren't for Ava, Darcy, and Fio, he'd probably not even bother leaving.]

I like knowing you're up here longing for me when I'm away. Besides, you'd get tired of me if I were here all the time.

[he chuckles.] Of course not. [his fingers scrape lightly at the skin behind his ears.] You also yearn. Or pine, if you prefer.

Well then, darling, what do you do in here by yourself, other than think about me?

[this time, his laugh is low and undeniably smug.]

You certainly know how to stroke my ego, don't you?

Is that so? [those are fighting words.] Prove it.

[his own hand trails after the one retreating, catching it in a gentle grip.]

You haven't hurt me yet. [he draws that warm hand back to his jaw.] Let's just start like this, then. I can feel the heat under your skin, the pressure of your fingers against my bones, and that's more than enough for now.

[he tilts into the touch, watching his face for any microscopic change in expression.]

If something in me is changed by the way you touch me, I know it will be for the better. And if you never again feel ready to burn through to my marrow, know I'm already more than satisfied with this alone. I trust you.