[i]Darling.[/i]

That little purr of a pet name had meant more than the soldier had probably wanted it to, her stomach fluttering and a warmth spreading up her chest in a way that, after years of devotion to work, felt foreign.  It was likely for the best that all Celeste had been able to manage was a chuckle in response, though her lips had formed into a curvy grin without knowing it.  If only she could tell him that it was impossible to let people in, he might have realized it would be like fighting in a burning house.

Gathering up her supplies, the bandage changes were going to have to wait while he got some actual food in his stomach and his spirits lifted.  Crouching to begin putting it all together, she couldn't help but give a soft laugh as the linens and trash were bagged up and lobbed towards the door.

"I like doing what I do, Mister Chambers... healing, it has honor of its own, at least from my heritage."  Settling back against her worn Puma shoes, the grip thankfully kept her aloft.  "You don't have to thank me or serenade me, you just have to get better to get back to your life."  A smirk was forced onto her lips.  "Besides, I'm sure you have plenty of women that will be crawling all over you stateside."  It was as best a rejection she could give, but it felt like someone had thrown acid on that wonderful feeling that had previously been there by that one, simple word.  "I will say, though - if you're still here and your hands are working, I wouldn't turn down a good foot massage.  Eighteens are killer on your tootsies."

Rising to stand, it seemed to take a little effort more than she would have liked.  Stretching and yoga had been thrown to the wayside for sleep months ago.

"I have to toss these, then I'll be back with your food and mine.  I could use a few minutes to rest anyway, and I did say I'd show you ink."  With a smirk, the nurse was gone out the door with her mess with just a whisper of her shoes on the floor.

It felt like a lifetime waiting in the cafeteria for the food to be ready.  With a hand on her nose bridge, she pinched there to remind herself not to get attached.  Jason Chambers was her patient, she had to keep a line drawn.  It didn't matter that he was friendly, right?  Though, the thought of spending time with him didn't much feel like work to get him something good to eat, or just to chat and take their minds from the reality that she had run from the States and he had been practically blown up.

When she heard her name, she was pulled from that place in her head to grab the tray and head back up to her floor.  Snaking a couple bottles of Coke and a straw along with a handful of napkins from the lounge, it felt strangely surreal.  Stopping at the linen closet to grab a couple towels before she knocked on the door, the nurse soon enough entered again without her tools aside the stethoscope that seemed to hang perpetually around her neck.

Pulling his table over towards her, the tray was set down and the armchair nearby was yanked closer.

"You weren't diabetic, so I grabbed you a regular Coke.  Figured it would be a nice change from water, and all the juices here always taste watered down."  Leaning over, a towel was tucked into his gown to protect it, even as her bare fingers were tickled by the beginnings of a beard.  "And we can share the fries, I always feel like they give me a pound of them anyway."