A/N: I bring you fluff. Today's drabble is sponsored by the word "flare."

She shined her penlight in his eyes, watching as his pupils flared and receded, and then with a heavy sigh, she joked, "I'd check you for brain damage, but then, how would I tell?"

His mouth quirked up in a half-smile, and he rejoined, "Oh you'd like it if I had brain damage. Just think how much more attractive I'd be."

Temper flaring, she frowned at him, and added an extra dose of stinging astringent to the road rash spreading across his left shoulder.

"Ease up there, Florence Nightingale," he muttered with a grimace, and she felt a sudden burst of remorse and sympathy.

"Sorry," she murmured, and he couldn't help but smile at her. Feeling an unexpected flare of affection, he leaned forward and planted a kiss on her lips. He was out the door before she could even respond.