"I didn't make trouble," Ari told Wil. "I made coffee." An important distinction. She might not have wanted to come, but no one could say she wasn't pulling her weight - even if Drake had carried the food.
At Drake's request, she raised an eyebrow at him, then laughed. "Sure, I'll help you, Knuckles. Where's your pack?" When he pointed it out, she rifled through it until she came up with another shirt, then followed him behind the bushes. "You know," she told him in a low voice, "no matter how quick you think you are, I think that adventures up against trees may have to wait for another time." She was only half joking; who knew what was really on his mind?
She did enjoy manhandling him, though. Reaching over, she tugged his shirt off, running her fingers up his stomach and pectorals - then shoved the torn garment at his chest. "What?" she asked at his confused look. "Were you expecting something else, with your hands all muddy that way? This is only good as a rag now, so use it to wipe up. Then you can put this on, unless you'd like to sit around shirtless, which I wager several of us wouldn't mind."