How this evening had turned from him giving her a dancing lesson and trying valiantly to restrain himself, to him sitting in front of her and trying valiantly to restrain himself as he rubbed her feet, he didn't think he'd ever know. But somewhere along the line, maybe when she'd opened up to him, it had become more acceptable for him to do the same. To let himself go, just a little bit, and be more at ease with her. That it had the side effect of him letting on that he was attracted to her... Well, she hadn't shot him down yet, so it wasn't a problem until one of them made it one.

Holding her ankle with one hand, his fingers idly caressing it, he used the fingers of the other to work the soreness from her foot. "I don't have to, no," he agreed conversationally and gave her an earnest look. "But have you considered that I might want to?"

Letting the question hang in the air, he dropped his gaze to his fingers on her skin, wondering just how she'd managed to sweep the rug so thoroughly out from under his own feet. He hadn't even noticed she'd done it, but it was beginning to dawn on him just what was going on and how very dangerous a game he was getting himself caught up in. Times like this, he wished more than anything that Sam was around to give him a firm smack upside his thick head and knock some sense into it. Now, there was nothing but the ghost of a voice to chastise him, tease him mercilessly and then ask him gently if this was as serious as he thought it was.

"I don't give up either, I've never known how," he muttered, more to voices that had been forever silenced than to her as the ghost in his mind rolled his eyes and mussed Jim's hair with an affectionate laugh.