"What did you like about it?" she asked, beginning to clean the wound. The blood transfusion began and Poppy looked up at him expectantly.
She nodded hastily, trying to keep the tears from welling up in her eyes. "Yeah. Yeah. You should be okay now. The blood transfusion will keep you from bleeding out. I just..." She cleared her throat, swiping at her eyes. "I have to stitch you up."
She looked down at him, her eyes teary. "You... God. Francis, you can't do something like that again. It's just... it's not fair."
Her hand tightened and she shook her head. "God damnit, Francis! How would you feel if you were in my shoes? If you thought you couldn't trust me to take care of myself if you were in danger? You can't do this. You can't."
She shuddered and finished bandaging up his wound. She took off her gloves and pressed her hands flat against the table wearily. "We're going to continue the conversation about this," she told him sternly. "Not now, but we will continue this conversation."