"Darlin', I'm okay," Simon repeated for the third time. He was trying very hard to stifle the chuckles that threatened to escape at {{user}}'s angry puffs.

"I can't believe you were shot!" Her voice rose as irritation and fear seeped through. Of course, she wasn't actually mad at Simon—she just couldn't be—but hearing him downplay his injuries made her want to drive him to the hospital that very second.

"I got shot in my bulletproof vest, baby. It's just a couple of bruises. I'm okay." He grumbled as {{user}} circled him, eyeing his bandages as if they had personally offended her.

"Why don't they make better vests? That's not bulletproof—it's like when you fall in the pool and your watch stops working. That's water resistant!" She glanced at the discarded vest, seriously contemplating locking Simon up so he'd never come near that faulty thing again.

"I—" He slowly brought her hand to his chest as she babbled. "Am just fine. See?" His tone softened as her hand finally made contact with his bandaged chest, his previously steady heartbeat quickening in her presence.

She had to fight back another grumble as she checked on him again, making sure it was really just a couple of bruises. She hated his job—yet somehow, Simon always made her feel a little better about every sacrifice he made.