"Sure thing," she looked at her friend and rolled her eyes a little, "You know I can handle myself," she teased him, "Remember how much better I was than you in P.E.?" Monica had loved sports, art, pretty much everything that couldn't get her a good job or scholarship. She had been served well by her naturally athletic build in the army though, and the doctors had told her that she was lucky to survive. Had she been in any worse physical shape she would've most likely not been able to fight off the infection that had taken hold of her body when the wound was open. She'd lost most of that muscle and her limbs were far more scrawny then they had been once. 

She grinned slyly at him, "Of course I'd be the only one to call you nerd. If anyone else started calling you that I'd have to think of a new name," she ruffled his hair, and rested a hand on his shoulder.

"All those people are lying to you, you know," she laughed, "You're a nerd, nothing more and nothing less." Monica met his gaze when he mentioned her falling for him, her face serious. He was probably just teasing her. Now wasn't the time to tell him how she felt, she just knew it. If she said anything, he'd most likely just laugh her off. 

The woman was able to hobble to just above him without her crutches as he reclined in the chair, and leaned close into his face. Her expression was serious, but her eyes were playful. 

"Well, you see, I--" she gave his chair a light push just so that he would fall to the ground and laughed, "If you really want to know, I'll tell you later," she half teased, and offered a hand to help him up.