Lucy managed a slight laugh, trying to smile but it looked more like a grimace. "Yeah that would be ideal," she mused with another shake of her head. She didn't understand what was so hard about cooking chicken. It was one of the few things even she could cook. At the mention of the infirmary, she gave Osiric a shrug. She wasn't looking too good, and not just because she was pale and sweating and slightly shaky. There was definitely an air of something being slightly off; like she wasn't entirely focused or coherent. "I don't want to go to the bloody infirmary. What are they going to do? Tell me I'm sick and hover over me I'll be fine." Lucy was not a fan of doctors, but she wasn't going to admit that aloud, much less to him.
Shaking her head, she waved off Osiric's worry about his scent. "No, you smell fine. I just can't believe you'd put your lips on me right now," she explained. Lucy certainly wouldn't if she were him. "I'm a perfect lady, actually. You just don't appreciate a bird telling you that you're bleeding mad." Of course she had to keep trying to be normal, otherwise Osiric might push the infirmary thing. Little did she know, she wasn't acting or looking anywhere close to normal. "I will hold you to that. Try to prove you can behave all the time," she said with a slight smirk.