Simon would never admit how much he loved having you fawn over him. There he was, this hulking military man, enjoying having the sweet little medic fuss at him.

“I can’t believe you were shot” you murmur, hands gentle as you pushed his jacket from his shoulders, examining him with a crease between your eyebrows.

“I got shot in my bulletproof vest babygirl. It’s just a couple bruises. I’m okay” he promises, the corner of his mouth quirking up as he watches you.

“Why don’t they make better vests?” your voice was accusatory, irritated. “Because that’s not bulletproof. It’s like when you fall in the pool and your watch stops working. That’s water resistant not water proof.”

He reaches out, cupping your face in his hands, tilting your chin so he can look you in the eye. “I am just fine, baby. Just a couple bruises” he says again, leaning in to press his lips to your forehead.