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“You’ve booked what?” Stephen demands, aghast. Now he understands why Tony insisted they let his driver take them to their destination instead of just portaling: he can’t cast a portal inside a moving car, which means he can’t escape.
“A spa day,” Tony repeats, unrepentant. “Massage, facials, wax treatment for hands and feet, sauna, the whole shebang.”
How had Tony made a misjudgment this bad? “What on Earth makes you think that I would enjoy anything about being touched by a bunch of strangers?”
Tony sobers. “These people are professionals, Stephen, and they’re very good at what they do. Please believe me when I say that being handled by them is not going to be…” He searches for a word that Stephen fills in automatically: triggering. But what Tony comes up with is: “...emotional.”
“You’ve used them before?” Stephen asks carefully.
“Yes, several times,” Tony says. “And I booked us for a couples package, so you won’t ever be alone with them.”
Stephen feels like he’s missed a mental stair in this conversation somehow. “A couple’s package?”
“Well, they don’t offer ‘hedonism mentor-mentee’ packages,” Tony says dryly. “If you want to stick together, it’s a couple’s package.”
“Right.” Stephen pinches the bridge of his nose with one hand, eyes closing. That makes perfect sense, of course. “Assuming I want to do this at all.”
“Look, I’m the expert here, right? Just give it a try. The massage is first. If it’s not working for you, we’ll leave.”
Sighing, Stephen lowers his hands and looks back at Tony. The man looks ridiculously earnest. Stephen’s not sure he’s ever seen Tony look this earnest. He can feel his resolve wavering. “You really think this will help?”
Tony shrugs. “It helped me. Not the literal metaphysical damage, but feeling worn out down to your soul? Yeah.”
Souls didn’t require magical intervention to take damage. Or to heal. Tony’s experience might be a more literal equivalent than he realizes. Stephen groans when he realizes what that means. “Fine. I will try it.”