"Just," he grumbles, pressing an ice pack against his temple to soothe this damnable headache of his. "Sod it, when I get back to New York I'm banning the use of all general anesthetic. If people want surgery, they're just going to have to be awake for it."

There's a pause as he cradles his head, so very tired and so incredibly pissed off that he really doesn't know what to do with himself at this point. It seems a bit unfair to take it out on her. "So, I take it you've been here for some time then?"