See, this isn't so bad. A little weird, if only because she's not used to feeling her affinity move through him by way of her mouth, but not bad. And okay, maybe she shouldn't be blurring the line between okay-with-healing and okay-with-making-out, but if he was that adamant about her keeping her power to herself, he'd say so. As it is, he just manifests a book - she hears it drop, and since it sounds like a paperback, she elects not to worry about it. If he starts summoning hardcovers, she'll dial it back.

"Sorry," she breathes after he pulls back with a pained gasp. Is it supposed to hurt? She could never tell with Con; none of the healing jobs she had to do on him were that drastic, and he was professionally inscrutable, besides. But it's clear she gave Spike a twinge, and she rubs slow, apologetic circles into the nape of his neck as he eases his leg back onto the floor. Maybe that was the worst of it. Her affinity seems to be winding back to wherever it comes from, and when he kisses her again, it's just that - a kiss, nothing more. And nothing less.

And she's fine. A little tired, maybe, but in a satisfying sort of way. No worse than she would be after a particularly intense lunch rush or a not-very-strenuous hike. She breaks away from the kiss long enough to swing her leg over his and settle comfortably in his lap, her arms winding around his neck. "You know," she says as she leans in to brush her lips against his jaw, "you could kiss my neck again, if you wanted." He's been avoiding it for weeks, and while she appreciates the care he's taken with her, she's also found herself missing it - missing not being treated like a skittish forest creature.