Okay, so running her mouth about tight situations with ridiculous odds had been a stupid error. She should have known better; she knew enough about him to know better. Not something she would allow to happen again unless she decided she wanted to go opening old wounds—which, with her, was always a possibility if she decided the thing hadn't healed properly and needed purging. But definitely not right now.
Listening to him and watching his face change, she slipped her hand out from under his and put it on top, curling her fingers around his in a light grip. Her turn to be the stable, comforting presence again. She felt better for it.
She was also happy to let the conversation move on, and his tale of being shut out of Medical got a laugh. "No offense, but you'd have to take some serious retraining first. Believe me, I've practiced medicine in plenty of low-tech 'verses, and I cringe to think of the limitations." She really did. The times she could have saved somebody if she'd only had penicillin, or decent needles, or help that didn't swear by the panacean properties of extensive bloodletting . . . what a nightmare. Still, patients dying was just part of the job. She didn't like it, but she was able to view it objectively.
"Still," she went on contemplatively, "if what I saw of your work with a bandage is any indication, I'd say we could have used you then. Shards, the number of times I personally could have used a big, tough field surgeon stagger the mind. I've never been good with massive trauma. The odd broken bone, sure, but there comes a level of severity that takes more than just one woman with a bag."
She was rambling on again. How did this keep happening? She reached for her drink, which she'd forgotten temporarily, and drained about half of what was left.
"Not necessarily," Suicide said, his lips quirking a little at the corner. "But the nowhere-to-go-but-through-us strategy loses its appeal when it's not something you chose to do." Three hundred... more
She was trying to . . . comfort him? A strange idea, not so much wrong or irritating as just plain weird. Suicide couldn't think of the years he spent as a squire without some emotion, but he'd never ... more
It did get a laugh, because she'd been there (metaphorically speaking; she'd never actually been to ancient Greece) and knew it for fact. "Yeah, you make due with what you've got and hope for the... more
If her smile tended mischievous, it might have been because she was enjoying watching him melt in front of her like this. No, scratch that. It definitely did, and she definitely was. These were not... more
Jenni was in trouble in one respect: unless no clothes were involved at all, Suicide was not a believer in delayed gratification. He was right-handed, and Medical or not, the limb had been battered... more
Well, so much for plan A, then. That was all right. Plan B had been a possibility in her mind from the start, despite her decision not to actively nudge things in any particular direction—which ... more
Some asshole with a snarky sense of humor had put "A Whole New World" on the bar's jukebox. What kind of jukebox even had "A Whole New World" on there, anyway? Suicide did his best to tune it out,... more
Mostly, Jenni was just confused, though not at all displeased at being kissed again, whistler or no whistler. She smiled even as she tilted her head in the universal gesture of not having a clue.... more
Suicide mentally cursed again as Jenni's words cut through his newfound good mood. For a moment, he contemplated distracting her from the question; he figured he had a 55% chance of managing it, with ... more
So much for doubts. Suicide got the idea, and while most of his thoughts that followed were generally incoherent, part of him definitely decided that the height difference was going to be a pain in... more
Jenni experienced a little thrill at how easily he plucked her up, like the effort was nothing. The voice of caution pointed out that he could probably do anything he wanted to her without breaking a ... more
So this was it: the lair of the beast, the place that would've given Nume an aneurysm if he'd known Suicide was in it. It even had a dragon . . . albeit a plush brown one, which somehow didn't quite... more
Jenni wasn't that worried about it. True, she was a woman who liked a certain level of order, and she generally maintained it for the purpose of letting her visitors know that she had everything... more
As usual, Suicide's awakening was accompanied by pain. He vaguely registered the shrilling of an alarm, but that took a distant second to the litany of other standard complaints--mainly joints that... more
Mmmmm. The aches were still there, but with Jenni's soft curves molded against him, they were hardly worth dwelling on. She'd pinioned his left arm quite neatly, especially since the feeling of her... more
At the hiss she paused her wandering and propped herself up on her right elbow to scope out what she'd touched. She hadn't been thinking about wounds and charts, but when she saw the extensive scar... more