He blinked at her, fairly stupidly because he was definitely not processing fast enough for that to get through in a sensible way quickly. And the logistics of how the hell to get cleaned up at the moment were way, way, beyond him figuring out fast.
"Ben's a good idea. Give me the thing." He held his right hand out for the cloth, and left his left firmly in his lap. The problem there was actually his collarbone, which meant a-) the angle was a very little off, and b-) as long as he didn't move it, he wouldn't scream himself blue. Besides, he was so half-frozen and half-shocky he wasn't feeling it right, anyway.