Merida bristled, how dare he doubt her skills! But she wasn't one to allow that to read and she buried her emotions behind her professional mask, which generally looked like a quirked head and a sunny smile.

'It appears so and I certainly hope so,' she made the concession of agreeing - except it wasn't agreeing it was the sort of polite noise that acknowledged you were not an idiot but were also still entirely wrong. 'the smaller back teeth of the doxy are so thin and sharp that they can puncture the skin without you feeling out and without leaving a mark. You might not even realize it' She crossed her arms over her chest and the clipboard of notes, waiting to see if he would argue with the logic of it.

'I doubt he cares that much' she couldn't help but quip and covered her mouth as soon as she said it, as though she had hiccoughed or sneezed, the moment of her personal and professional life bleeding together, and the snarky comment about her brother couldn't be contained.

She coughed, 'He will not thank you for you endangering yourself for the sake of a few hours.' Merida gave him an appraising look, trying to read his face to see just how stubborn he was inclined to be. Murdock had said that he was a 'focused' man, which she had often taken as a euphemism for stubbornness to a fault. She met his gaze, wondering how likely it was that he flinch under her appraising expression.

She had no real ability to keep him here, beyond appealing to common sense - why wouldn't he want to spend a few hours in the hospital? - she was a god damn delight to spend time with.

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