Something in crimson...

"Hey, we match," Andy laughed then let out a hiss.

"I don't consider this funny, Lieutenant."

"Gotta get your humour in whenever you can, Captain," he seethed, trying not to give in to the pain coming from his left leg. Sharon had removed the fabric and dirt around the gunshot wound the best she could, using her limited first aid training. The rest of the team was dealing with the shooters and rounding up suspects. The chaos of a few minutes before had dulled to the eery quite of the post shoot-out clean up. Andy had been the only one of their team hit. They were still counting the other side.

"The fact that the blood from your leg matches my sweater, does not amuse me in the least."

Andy hissed again, "Not too tight, Sharon..."

Looking up at his face, she saw the pain etched across it. Though both were comfortable using first names, they usually didn't while they were on the job. Andy especially refrained from calling her by name unless they were having a private, friendly moment. "I've got to stop the blood loss. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, yeah..." he closed his eyes, and tried to regulate his breathing. "Just tell me the scar won't be too bad."

When Sharon didn't answer, he opened his eyes and looked at her. From his angle, he couldn't see anything but blood on his leg.

She had been biting her lip, then looked up at him. "The good news is it didn't go through your leg, so they won't have to operate, I don't think."

"Is that your professional opinion, Dr. Raydor?"

Pursing her lips, she glared at him briefly, then changed expressions when he hissed in pain again. "I wish the ambulance would get here," she muttered, then softened her face into a reassuring smile. "It's not through and through, it skimmed your thigh. That's why it hurts more. The fix will be easier, but the scar will be worse, I'm afraid."

"Great... at least it will be a great story for the grandkids."

"That's one way to look at it," Sharon laughed slightly, then shook her head. "Lieutenant, I thought we had an agreement. No more getting hurt."

"Hey, I haven't been hurt in years. Don't blame me for Sykes or Sanchez."

"I wasn't thinking about them. I was thinking about you and how many times we've had to make sure you get medical attention."

"What..." he tried to shrug, only to show pain again. "I'm doing what I was told. I'm taking the medication. I'm fine."

"And yet here we are, waiting for an ambulance because you didn't get out of the way fast enough."

"Yeah, well someone had to protect you."

"I don't need protecting, Lieutenant."

"Says the only one here who's wearing the colour that makes bulls charge."

Sharon didn't hold back her glare this time, and tightened the tourniquet on his leg a little bit tighter.

"Your beside manor needs work, Captain. You're trying to cut my leg off."

"I'll show you bedside manor, Lieutenant."

"Promises, promises..." Andy muttered, giving up the fight and finally laying back on the ground. In the distances they heard the sirens, still sounding too far away.

Sharon watched silently while he grimaced but didn't move or moan. Finally the medics arrived. "Make sure he's okay!" she ordered, as she got out of their way. Standing up she was instantly flooded with memories of another time when she threatened paramedics on his behalf. She hoped this wasn't becoming a habit, for either of them.