"It's probably better you don't. You can if you wish, but I'd be more worried about your side, if I were you."
She laughed, ducking her head. "I thought I was the medic here," she said, raising an eyebrow. She shrugged, the movement fluid and easy. "If you don't think it would be a good idea, I don't need to go. But you should take my gun when you go, okay? She kinda has a bit of a kickback, but she's reliable."
"I've never had problems with the kickbacks. I didn't even know you had a gun. Have you even used it?"
"Of course I have!" Poppy said indignantly. "I just don't like to use it if I don't have to. So many things could happen, you know. Someone could take it, and then shoot you." She shrugged, a smile spreading across her face. "Imagine how embarrassing it would be to be immobilized by your own gun."
"Not that embarrassing. I mean, you seemed pretty worried. It was almost like you cared about what happened to me." He leaned closer with a vain smirk.
She blinked, but the hint of a blush threatened her cheeks. "Well, you seemed worried about me with that glass. Maybe it's you that cares about me."
"But of course. In circumstances like this, where else am I going to find a medic who is already known to me?"
She grinned and shook her head, her curls falling over her face. "I'm glad to know that my medical familiarity is valuable to you," she said easily.
"Besides, if I was in your place, I'm sure that you would do the same thing, which means you care about as well."
She laughed lightly, her eyes warm. "Yes, because everybody knows that the highest compliment one can receive is a grudging 'whatever you say'. Take what you can get, I suppose."
"I didn't say that. I was just mentioning that you didn't say no. Just admit it, Miss Abernathy, you've obviously fallen for my charm," he teased, puffing out his chest proudly.
"The experience of having a girl express interest in you is very foreign, I'm sure, but let me assure you that my feelings remain quite my own, thank you very much," she replied, her eyebrow raised slightly.
"That is actually not true. I was almost married, once. But I think short relationships are fun, as in really short, but long ones are a bit tasking," he said smoothly.
"Francis Craw, you are a player," Poppy said, amused. She returned to the inside of the tent and laid on her front again, her fingers drumming on the floor and her feet kicking nonchalantly. "Hm... Married, huh? What stopped it?"
Francis laughed. "Me, apparently. According to her I didn't care enough, or whatever. Then there was Robert. I like to think that was the breaking point, but it doesn't much matter. I didn't really like her that much, anyways. I mean, why else would she say I didn't care? It's a long and boring story." He put his hand on his chin in thought. "Do you have any fun stories?"
Poppy squinted at him for a moment, and then shrugged, running her fingers along the blanket. "My love life has never really been very exciting," she said thoughtfully. "My most serious relationship lasted three years, and I suppose that you could say that it ended badly, but besides from that, it's all fairly normal. I tend to go for artsy, sweet boys, and that doesn't really lead to a lot of tension or anger in breakups." She grinned, and shrugged. "Instead, you get a lot of love songs in your voice messages that promise sweet nothings."
