"Really?" That he had a hard time believing. Martha was an attractive woman and a doctor. Brains and looks. It was a turn on. "You've been hanging out with the wrong crowd," he said before breaking into an amused grin. "Thank you, Miss Jones." He rolled his eyes. "Those would be the sickeningly sweet ones the rest of us love to hate. Cutesy nicknames included." He'd rather hear Aimee call him a disappointing memory again than have to deal with that.
She wasn't wrong about that. "I'm starting to remember why I do most of my patch up jobs myself." Though that was relatively minor to the concern about being tagged while being stitched up. He had enough experience to tend to most of what he came out of fights with but there were times.
"Sure. It's not too hard once you get the rhythm down." He had some time to kill while looking for jobs, now that he was on his own again. Buying a truck and heading out on the road had also been a consideration, once the ghost sickness thing had been taken care of. "Those board things. They work from anywhere?"
Usually what she was talking about was a disaster in the making, some asshole looking to take advantage of a woman. Whoever the Doctor guy was, he was a different breed that actually kept his word from the sounds of it. "You didn't know," he replied. "Spontaneous decision that did go badly at the end, yeah. It wasn't the brightest idea but it wasn't malicious. The burden shouldn't be all on you to bear." At least that was the way Eliot was seeing it, with the few details he had. "It sounds like you had your run with him and it wasn't meant to last forever, but it ended up leading to something better than what you had before you met him."