"Yeah, I don't think it's a word, either." He watched as he drained her drink and then smirked, turning around to pull her a pint of Guinness. "There, you happy?"
He smiled softly when she told him to not go into a coma again. "I'll try not to. So you were more concerned about my complexion than me, were you?"
He grinned to let her know he was just teasing and reached out to ruffle her hair a bit. "And you don't flatter yourself. You're not the hard ass you seem to think you are, you big softy."