Especially when Louise walked into the bedroom carrying an enormous bowl of double chocolate chunk ice cream.
"Give me that."
"You get it after I get your word you won't give me any trouble during the examination."
"I've already had an examination."
Saying nothing, Louise scooped up a spoonful and slipped it between her own lips.
"Okay, okay. Jeez. Hand over the ice cream, and nobody gets hurt."
Louise passed Eve the bowl, then sat on the side of the bed, propped her medical bag in her lap. She pursed her lips as she studied Eve's face. "Ouch," she said.
"That your medical opinion, Doc?"
"It's a start. From the look of it, I'd say you're lucky he didn't shatter your cheekbone."
"I just knew this was my lucky day. It's not so bad now," she added over a mouthful of chocolate. "Those cold packs sting like a bitch, but they work. Roarke's being pissy about this, and he's got me outnumbered. So if you'd just clear me so I could get up and do some work—"
"Sure." Louise gestured.
Suspicious but game, Eve swung her legs off the bed, even managed to stand on them. For about three seconds before her head exploded and began to spin. Louise caught the ice-cream bowl handily as Eve dropped back on the bed.
"Some doctor you are."
"Yes, I am, and efficient with it. That just saved both of us arguing time."
Prone, Eve pursed her sore lips. "I don't think I like you anymore."
"I don't know how I'm going to go on with my life knowing that. You'll stay put until I tell you otherwise." She pulled a palm unit out of her bag, called up the copy of Eve's chart. "You don't know how long you were unconscious?"
"How the hell should I know? I was unconscious."
"Good point. I'm going to run some scans, give you a second round of cold packs. I can give you something for the discomfort."
"I don't want chemicals. Deal's off if you pull out a syringe."
"That's fine. I'd rather not give you anything with the concussion. We'll use external blockers there to take the edge off that whopper of a headache you must have."
She went back into her bag, calling out a "Come in," at the knock on the bedroom door.
"Excuse me." Sam stepped just inside the threshold. "Roarke said I should come up as I might be of some help."
"Are you a medical?" Louise asked.
"No, not a medical. I'm Sam, Delia's father."
"We're okay here," Eve said carefully, and set the bowl aside. "She's doing whatever she's got to do."
"Yes, of course." He backed up awkwardly.
"A healer then?" Louise asked, studying him with interest.
"I'm a sensitive." His gaze was drawn to Eve's face again, and pity for the pain rose in him.
"Empathic?"
"A bit." He shifted his soft eyes to Louise, smiled. "Medicals rarely put any stock in sensitives or empaths."