Micah Castro Braden // Doctor Watson, I presume (acatalyst) wrote in bellumlogs,
He watched her, just as she expected, to ensure that she knew how to handle the crutches, and then he inclined his head to her in acknowledgment of the fact. He'd have to make sure she didn't have to go climbing the stairs to find dear, sweet Mr. Marion, he decided.
The fact that she doubted that he had a medical license, even after his exceptional display of skill, spoke to a wariness that he could appreciate. He, himself, had learned that particular skill late in life, and it had cost him. Even still, he admired her for it. It was the sort of admiration he usually reserved for men, and finding it a woman who wore a skirt as well as this one did. Well, it was unexpected, to say the least.
"Three days," he reminded her. "I'll come check on you then," he said, and it wasn't clear if it was a threat or a promise, but the smile that came along with it was genuine. "Ibuprofen for the swelling," he added, before turning and leaving her to the privacy of her locked door.