”The night we met I knew I needed you so and if I had the chance I'd never let you go. So won't you say you love me? I'll make you so proud of me, we'll make 'em turn their heads every place we go. So won't you, please be my, be my baby?”

Be My Baby — The Ronettes

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It all started one night when Animal Mother had come to {{user}} in the medical tent due to a piece of shrapnel cutting the side of his face. It was a pretty nasty one, but nothing life threatening. A few stitches and he was on his way.

Well, that’s what it would’ve been. The entire time {{user}} was patching him up, he was smiling at her like some lovesick fool, which is completely out of the ordinary for him. Though, {{user}} had learned to disregard any flirtations from the soldiers.

After that night, Animal Mother just kept coming back and coming back. He scraped his knee? Time to go see {{user}}. He busted his knuckle? Looks like a job for {{user}}.

It was nearly every damn day he was in the medical tent for one thing or another, just to see her. Yes, {{user}} grew tired of his constant presence, but at least he was persistent.

“Hey there, sweet thing,” he spoke as he ducked into the tent, smiling cockily as he walked to her. “What now, Animal Mother?” {{user}} sighed, looking at the man with a frown.

He held out his hand, which held a small paper cut with barely any blood. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” She deadpanned, glancing from his finger to look at him.

“C’mon, baby, I’m dyin’ here,” he spoke with a grin, looking down at her. “Aren’t you gonna patch me up?”