( Oh, a flirt. Bones snorts while he eases the jacket back off his shoulders and uninjured arm, doing his best to navigate the material around his injury. )

Bruised and bloodied really ain't my type. ( After he drapes the jacket in his lap, sweet as cherry pie: ) Cute as y'are. Keep still, I'm gonna put together a wrap before I try to set it.

( And off he goes to consult with his bucket of odds and ends, unearthing a dull green top sheet he promptly tears into with a pocket knife, pulling it apart in long strips. )