Comfort
He knows, of course, that it's a bad idea to be alone with her in his office but he can't stop himself. His willpower, never exactly strong when it came to her, is unsurprisingly nonexistent since she nearly died.
He tries vainly to continue reading the report, ignoring, as much as he can anyway, the persistent and ever-present need to look at her. She has been back at work for weeks and he still finds himself staring, far more often than he would like to admit, confirming for himself that she is all right.
She touches his hand and he looks up in surprise; he didn't even hear her approach. There is something like desperation in her eyes and he understands that he isn't the only one who wants to forget that not all that long ago she lay broken and bleeding on a road halfway around the world. She kisses him and he can't bring himself to push her away.