<span style="font-style: italic">Women,</span>he thought,<span style="font-style: italic">Impossible creatures. Look at her. She's going more and more pale as I sit here... and still refuses the pills. What could he have done to her to make her do this to herself?</span><br/><br/>With a sigh, he set the bowl aside for now, giving her a look that said, '<span style="font-style: italic">Oh, just admit it already,</span>and leaned back comfortably on the trunk beside her couch. She started to thank him, but even that seemed too much through the pain. He saw her struggle to keep the mental gears turning, and sighed again. Finally, she managed to ask his name, and he took the opportunity to speak.<br/><br/>His voice was deep again, slow, heavy, and soothing. He spoke in soft tones, enunciating each syllable as though it were dipped in molasses. "Well... now there's a question. See, my parents were cruel people..." he smirked to show that he was only teasing, "They chose the name Buford, convinced it would become a popular name. They were wrong, of course, so I tell my friends to call me Butch. Much better name, if you ask me." at this point, he picked up her hands again, and began massaging them as he'd done before, working on the pressure points he'd used, hoping it would work as well as it had. He didn't even ask her permission to do so, and took care to make the motion casual, relaxing, doing his best not to alarm her.<br/><br/>"But trust me, gorgeous..." he continued, "You have nothing to thank me for. The chance to play the rescuing knight is rare for me. I'm deeply enjoying it. You're doing me a favor, to be honest..."