A bath happened indeed, at first warm on the verge of being too warm, twice the usual amount of foaming bath stuff dumped in to make the sudsiest, most welcoming bath ever. If April hadn't realized she was Queen of the castle, then said bath probably proves it. He's cleaned up the dogs (and every other furry thing around the house) enough for her to know he's not stranger to it, but there's a clear difference with April. He isn't just more careful, more accommodating, and neither is he treating her like glass, like bathing an infant. The care present is much more akin to worship, to having found someone holy and sacred, loved above all else. He even takes off his shirt. Enjoy the show, April.

Which means that only after she's clean and those suds have significantly vanished, the water now too cool to be comfortable, does Will lift the plug and get up just long enough to return with a towel. And after a towel, the fluffiest bathrobe the have, warm and soft and easy to wrap around a pliant, damp body. No knives, no tools of anything close to a threat, just a warm cozy space fueled by body heat since, yes, Will picks her up again as soon as he can like he's afraid he won't get the chance to if he doesn't. Like she'll vanish, again, if he doesn't keep her so close he she could feel every bone in his chest if not for the floofy fabric around her.

"Bed?" asked quietly from the doorway. The bed was, of course, in sight. But perhaps... "Or are you hungry?"

Not that Will couldn't go to the kitchen and get her something if she was (he would), but the idea of having even a foot of space away from her right now was one of the Most Depressing things he could imagine.