<span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#99ff99">Cat rolled her eyes at the nickname, taking the first aid kit from him and spreading it out over the table.  It would do.  Hers would be better -- and she made a mental note to keep hers near at hand whenever she was going to be around Gabriel.  Who knew that wizarding would be hazardous?<br/>
<br/>
She cleaned up his face with an alcohol wipe, carefully evaluating the wound and deciding -- yes, butterfly bandages would hold it.  Good thing, too -- she didn't fancy having to MacGyver topical anesthetic or sutures.  Cat applied bandages neatly, humming absently to herself.  The humming was a holdover from previous times she'd patched somebody up -- nothing she'd be volunteering to explain to a near stranger, no matter how attractive he was.<br/>
<br/>
And damn, he was.  Without his shirt, she could properly admire his tattoos and the skin beneath them.  And... she thought his eyes were completely closed.  From where she was standing, she saw the lids down, and assumed he was tuning the pain out.  That meant she was a little less careful in her appraisal of his body, and she might -- maybe -- have licked her lips.  A little.  Once or twice.  <br/>
<br/>
She felt along his ribcage with her fingertips, searching for places were they were bruised and broken.  "The bottom left one is dislocated," she said quietly.  "It'll probably snap back in if I do nothing -- but I can also kind of pop it back in.  Hurts like hell and I don't want to shock you with it -- but it'll heal faster if I fix it.  You okay with that?"</span></span>