Like fat Prophets, Profits? Profits.

When she saw his face come into view, her heart just barely started to beat a little bit faster.  Her ma had always told her that a person becomes more lovely to one, as their heart grows a little more fond, and in that moment, Gabe's face was the best looking face she had ever seen, never-mind that she forgot about her shoulder in the moment, even as he worked to bring her up.  It was the first pause in the smooth pull of her dead weight that had the dislocation screaming, and the butterflies in her stomach flutter even faster.  She didn't blush easily, but the small scolding coupled with the absolute question of why did even his fussing make her feel a little topsy-turvy, coupled with the way his eyes held the faintest trace of fear in his eyes had her turning as red as her hair.


"[color=#ff4136]Yes well, you weren't up here with me in the moment to say no quick enough now, were you?[/color]"  She rolled her eyes, but the small smirk never left her lips as he finally got her topside and she went to get to her feet, holding the arm finally with a terse look on her face.  Brows drawn and lost in thought a moment, she was able to push the pain aside long enough to slide the ball back into the socket before she let out the briefest of yelps.  Hurt when it left the joint, hurt going back in, she'd feel this weeks from now.  "[color=#ff4136]A little pep-me-up wouldn't go amiss, but I think I'll be fine to get us the rest of the way in, and back out again.[/color]"

If she wasn't, they'd figure that out later, and after they were back out of danger and she could go back to wondering when his eyes had become so lovely with that small bit of concern showing in them -- she also needed to remind herself to stop staring before he noticed.  Why was it always in the middle of a job she'd find him attractive?!