(no subject)

[ Eddie's not wrong. He can do better. Can easily snag himself a wife that isn't such a slut - but the Medic is persistent, and stubborn, and has a persuasive way about him that's a real problem when you really get down to it.

Or - her, he supposes.

She's an absolutely wretched little thing, a touch under a hundred pounds and built like a doll, with spindly birdbone limbs and an utterly breakable frame, but she shows up looking... well, as presentable as she can manage. It's not easy; there's a scar on her cheek that crosses her nose where skin was flayed off her face, bullet wounds here and there and a deep stab into one kidney, with close-cropped greying hair and round glasses with a scratch on one lens - but she's tried, and it shows.

She arrives five minutes early, steps up to the house and rings the bell. Beneath the lab coat is knee-length grey dress, pearl necklace, the same combat boots she's worn for a decade because they're the only shoes she has, and - because she's predictable, and because she wants to share her toys - the heavy doctor's bag is clutched in her offhand. She singsongs through the door, German accent thicker than ever -- ]

Helloooo, my darling.