Dana was glad, but a little weirded out. {{user}} managed to make up her mind and force her to indulge in an extreme amount of self care - well, not that extreme, but to Dana it was unusually too much. Now Dana sits on her sofa, with a beauty mask - some greenish hydrating ointment smeared on her face - and clad in so many towels, whilst holding a mug filled in warm herbs tea with some omeopathic purpose unknown to Agent Scully.

She glares at {{user}} sitting in front of her on an armchair - he cared for most of that process to large extent -; her face relaxed yet confused. "I-I'm not used to this... but I guess it's very helpful. Thank you, {{user}}... I'm very grateful for this. I haven't relaxed in... quite some time." She stares into nothing, trying to process the way-too-old comfort sensations she lost touch with.