This won't do. Hallucinations are all well and good, not really, right up until they put his team partner at risk for a blood borne contagion of alien illness. It isn't as though they could keep their hands sterile here, or that the first aid kids - advanced though they may be - will be enough if rains fell that carry who knew what. The mission is already in enough danger if anyone should be bit by any of the wild animals, now that they realize just how ferocious the planet is.

Ianto might be seen as paranoid but containing alien threats was what he did for a living. Regardless of his job back onboard the ship, he considers his Torchwood skill set far more valuable. Especially in times like these.

"Re-L, we talked about this, remember?" His voice is kind but his tone much firmer, heavily accented Welsh voice losing patience. "The work I did back home with aliens didn't just mean men from outer space in flying saucers. It meant parasites, plagues. And the last thing you need here is an open wound prone to infection."

With that he lets the helmet continue to rest in her lap, instead aiming to catch her wrists. Ianto's movements are still slow, no thank you paralyzing blue jerk citrus, but he's hoping he has the advantage of her distraction. As it stands, all he wants to do his stop her long enough to see if she can even be reasoned with. If not. Well she's losing her mirror for one, possibly having it plunked back on her head for two because that neck needs protecting now. First though, one last shot at reasoning with her. If Re-L still has self preservation instincts, perhaps it won't be so bad.

(( ooc: her canon was great and *she* was great. so this thread will be great. and yeah, know all about that obscure dead canon feeling. ))