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Sasha shook her head, slipping her hand under the towel so that she could feel his unscarred cheek. The skin was war, the hair more soft than bristly, and so Sasha swept the towel free. She kept it nearby, though, just in case his skin cooled too quickly. Once finished, Sasha gave his cheeks a critical look, using her fingers to feel for the grain of his beard.

Yes, this was an art, and yes, Sasha was pretty particular about it.

Satisfied with her conclusion, she shlopped a handful of shaving cream into her palm, frowning at the fragrant stuff. "Someday I'll shave your face and um. It'll. It'll be with a real straight razor and a real brush. You'll see the difference. Any um. Well. Just trust me on t-this. If you ah.. if you don't have enough to buy a nice one, I'll.. I can help, maybe?"

Working the lather over his cheeks, Sasha fell silent, the tip of her tongue peeking out of the corner of her lips as she worked. After a few moments she flicked her eyes to meet his, one brow lifting in question.

"If we... if we got leave, where would you um. Where would you want to go? I'm not saying we'd have to go together," she hurried to explain, daubing the cream all over his face, through the rough of his beard down to his skin, "I'm just.. I'm just curious."

Sasha wiped her hands off on the now-cool towel she'd used on Jerry's face, a thoughtful look in her eyes. She picked up the razor, turning back to Jerry with a purposeful look.

"I… I don't know. Can.. I mean, I know we can't go visit.. family, not like I have any that I know of but. Can we like.. can we visit places from ah.. from before? Like." She cleared her throat before she applied the razor to Jerry's unblemished cheek; she'd save the scarred side for last.

"Like my old house. The farm. I.. I don't know what happened to it. I never sold it. Before I left, I gave away the animals there. But like. I never um. I never sold it… or whatever. Do you think .. I mean, is it allowed? To visit?"

Sasha waited patiently for Jerry to stop talking, rinsing the razor in warm water before she applied it once more to his cheek, drawing it down his jawline.

"Back to France, I think. Even if just to visit. The countryside, not the big cities. Somewhere familiar."

She pressed her lips together in a gesture of concentration, scraping away another line of stubble.

He was wary to talk as she shaved, but between strokes, he raised his brows, "You've been to France before? I ah.. I haven't! That... that I'm aware of, anyway, some missions you really d-don't know, ahahaha..." This wasn't so bad. He stretched his leg out where it could rest without getting in her way. They were alone. And she was very close.

Shut up shut up don't think like that she was just a friend. Just relax.

"So you speak French?" He smiled, "All I know is, "Michelle, Ma Belle, Sont des mots qui vont très bien ensemble. Ahahaha..." He tried not to laugh too hard, even nervously, with the cheap razor at his throat. "It would be nice. And I bet they'd have nice shopping, huh? And... and we could go wine tasting!"

"It... it would be amazing to see the vineyards," He sighed, head back to try to help her. The mental images in his head of the luscious grapes being lovingly fermented into fancy French wines was a welcome distraction to his heart leaping out his throat at the feeling of her warm soft chest so close to his own.

"I used to drink. A lot," He sighed, "But... It wasn't... you know. I mean. It's nice. I just relax, I don't think I get... mean or anything." He hesitated, trying to stay as still as possible, "Well... I mean... there was the whole... Yeti thing but, that could have gone a lot worse. Um. I mean... I hadn't drank anything for months and months before... right before I was recruited. I mean. I had already broken my ah..."