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It was starting to get to the point where the corners of Simon's mouth felt natural to be turned upward constantly - definitely a welcome change from the emotions that were flying through the air just a handful of minutes ago. Heck, a tiny selfish part of him was starting to feel glad that he'd decided to run into her like this... otherwise, who knew how long it would have taken for him to be able to get this much closer to her as opposed to the near-instant that it took here, if it would have been possible at all?

Simon smile brightened into something dreamlike as he felt Annabel wriggle herself in a bit closer. His chest even rumbled a bit in a low chuckle, ending with a coyly-quipped "Comfy?" when she was settled.

Her hair was tickling into his face now, so close that he could probably bury his nose in it if he were inclined enough to do so. Instead, before he could stop himself, he had given the tiniest of happy sighs when he noted the light scent of fresh water and... whatever else was making her smell so nice. With each step he was taking, he was slowly realizing more and more how difficult it was going to be to actually put Annabel down. If she were perceptive enough she might have noticed the sound of his footfalls slowing down a bit, especially when the forest began to thin and the shapes of the cabin and the mess hall started coming into view.

"We're almost there..." he said, sounding the tiniest bit disappointed.

More cuddling?! If Simon thought his face couldn't get any redder, this sudden display of Annabel becoming even cuter with each passing second proved him dead wrong. He hadn't pegged her as the type to get this affectionate. But... she'd just been swimming in that river, so she was probably just cold from being soaked to the bone.

Yeah, that was it. Totally.

It was more than a little redundant to tell him he could walk slower; the guy was already picking his way out of the woods as slowly as he possibly could without it getting irritating. Pacing himself was partially for reasons of comfort and care, yes, but... there was just no avoiding that he was enjoying this, and not just a little bit either. He might as well have been carrying her against a hazy pink backdrop with lazily floating bubbles and rose petals for how inexplicably happy this whole thing was starting to make him. Simon would NEVER admit to such a thing, though, even if the lack of observers as far as he knew was giving him no reason to hide it. Oh, when he remembered that there were cameras gleefully recording his every move, noise and expression...

"Heh, if I go any slower we won't get anywhere." And WHY, if it weren't for how Annabel was currently in need of medical attention, did that sound like such a good idea?

He took the long way to the infirmary tent without her even having to ask - slowly skirting around the perimeter of the campgrounds to avoid the risk of being seen by any fellow campers who might be on a midnight stroll, or at least that's what he was telling himself. Unfortunately, it seemed all too soon that he was standing in front of the doorflap of the infirmary tent, calling out with a timid "Hello?"

What a sight the "nurse" was about to be subjected to. A topless, bee sting-ridden Simon... carrying Annabel... who was wearing nothing but his shirt...

Any sort of romantic mood she'd had at the situation had died; face to face with the lovely Nurse Chef, her dreamy smile had faded into a stare of pure horror and confusion. There wasn't enough therapy in the world to purge her mind of this lovely mental image; Jesus CHRIST she was going to have nightmares about this. Simply blinking a few times in an attempt to reason out the situation, a sort of grin started tickling the corners of her mouth. Unable to help herself, the smile fully took her face as she was set on the bed.

"Hellooooooooo, nurse!" She snickered lightly, pulling up the sheet to make herself decent, as chef had requested. The typical spitfire spark was back in her eye; apparently, the soft and romantic side of Annabel was only saved for special occasions. One leg still curled under the sheet and the other propped so that the ankle was revealed, Annabel gestured at the injured ankle with a slight wave.

"I was out swimming and sprained my ankle; Simon here was nice enough to carry me back to camp, so I wouldn't hurt it anymore. I-I'm sorry to be a pain..." wait, was that fear? Honest to god, yes, the punk Audio seemed to be afraid of Chef, despite her earlier cartoon reference. A slight tremble in her otherwise cocky, overconfident aura, Annabel laughed nervously.

"But, would you mind mending it up, at least so I can walk again?"

Heh heh heh, perhaps this nursing gig wasn't TOO bad. People couldn't complain about his hard work here! First aid was one of the few things people couldn't complain to Chef about. The man, amazingly, knew what he was doing -- unlike with his cooking.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Chef replied to Annabel, focusing on her ankle. "Heh heh, suuuuure yew were. Looks to me that yew weren't just 'swimming.' Ah suppose yew were just taking a dip?" Chef's sneer was almost as big as Chris' ego. Almost. "Well, ah've got good news and bad news, missy." He said, standing up and walking over to the first-aid kit placed there by an intern a minute before the couple arrived, digging in it for a roll of bandages. "The good news is that it's not serious. The bad news is that Imma count ta three, then pull this bandage tight so it keeps it compressed."

With that said, he knelt down and began wrapping. "Nao, on the count of three. One... two!" The large audio gave a sharp tug and tightened the bandage, wrapping it quickly with efficiency seen on the battlefield. "There, nao that wasn't too bad was it? You'll need ta keep this paw up with some ice on it, though I -" he broke off into a quiet snicker, "Ah suggest yew get yo friend over there or someone ta bring yew another set of clothes, heh heh." His tone dropped, and he became more serious. "Yew won't be able to walk on it 'til tomorrow, 'less you want it to get worse and take longer ta heal. As fer yew..."

Chef rose and turned his attention to Simon, hands on his hips. Oh god. "Now, if yew didn't even 'look at 'er' as yew claim... How'd she end up with yer shirt, hm? Ya tellin me that yew used yo' hands instead of yo eyes son?"

He paused to let that sink in before adding, "Also, why didn't yew come hear sooner with those bee stings, soldier? Those things can get serious! What've yew done so far to deal with'em?"

As much as Simon really wanted to correct Chef on what had happened by the river, he felt it was a better idea to just keep his mouth clamped shut for now. Not only did it seem pointless (and potentially dangerous) to argue with this Audio, it was probably better to let someone who didn't stutter every five seconds to give an account of what happened. He did, however, pointedly nod while Annabel was talking in an attempt to convey in what way he could that what she was saying was correct.

He knew what was coming when Chef started binding her ankle... the whole 'pull early while they're relaxed' routine. Simon had suffered enough injuries like that in the past to recognize it, and it had been done to him so many times that he'd learned early on to tense up on "two" and the doctor eventually had to resort to picking a different number every time in order for it to work. It didn't stop him from sympathetically wincing and looking away, though, when Two and its aftermath took place.

Oh jeez, and now he was lecturing Simon again, and in a disturbingly womanly pose nonetheless. He shook his head in protest, this time deciding to speak: "S-she just explained that to you, s-s-sir... I g-g-gave it to her so I w-w-wouldn't see anything I shouldn't. Really."

"Um..." he started at the inquiry on the stings. "Annab-- er, I- w-w-we had some aloe in the c-cabin, and used some of that. It actually helped a bit."

He flushed noticeably when Annabel asked if he could carry her back to the cabin. Not only did it warm the horribly awkward atmosphere of the room just a bit to hear such a suggestion from her, the indulgent part of his mind immediately started to hope that Hatchet would say yes.

Oh, the horrible footage she'd just revealed to Chef; honestly, though, she'd rather him have the footage than spreading rumors of something else entirely. Trying to use that thought to calm herself, Annabel nodded after her explanation, pleased at Simon's reassurance on the truth of the matter. Hopefully, if Chef didn't believe her, Simon's word would make it more plausible; the boy seemed a lot more truthful and honest than she did, Annabel supposed.

Still a bit sore, no pun intended, at being pulled into the bandage early, Annabel's mouth was fixed into a scowl. His reasoning was... well, reasonable, really. But that didn't mean it hadn't been a cheap trick. This WAS still on the show, though. ...So something like that? Really, she should've been expecting it. Releasing her deathgrip on the unsuspecting bedsheets, Annabel drooped slightly.

"I... guess that makes sense. Sorry for yelling." She mumbled, more out of fear for her own hide than genuine feeling. Shifting a bit, Annabel was silent.

Until she'd realized that he'd given them the go-ahead. Quickly bundling the sheet around herself, Annabel's giddiness returned full-force, and the girl desperately tried to keep the grin off her face.

"No puppet show needed, sir! I can bundle up!"

Looking over to Simon, her neutral facade very near cracking, she finally smiled at him- very cool and collected, however.

Only the sight of her tail wagging gave away her excitement.

She couldn't help the small giggle that escaped her lips, curling into Simon once more as he lifted her up. Alright, so maybe he did reduce her to a little puddle of goo- so what? It was perfectly acceptable to have at least one boy you swooned over. Totally, one hundred percent normal. No reason to question how tough she was, at all. Snuggling up against Simon as she was, Annabel was entirely in possession of her masculinity.

And denial. But, you know, whatever. Pulling the blanket a bit more about herself, Annabel gave a quick look to Nurse Hatchet- hiding the shudder that she visibly felt from looking at the man, she gave the man in a dress the best smile she could manage- admittedly, looking at the man, it wasn't a terribly great one.

"S-so long, Chef. Thank you very much!" She said quickly, turning back as to not think about the large Audio in a skirt. Re-acquainting her face with Simon's chest, Annabel closed her eyes, drawing a deep breath. Yes, yes, this was much better than spending the night in the makeshift hospital. No Chef-in-Skirts, and Simon carrying her back...

"A-and thank you too, Simon. I.. I don't know how to repay you, really... and I sort of probably won't be able to get into my bunk..." It wasn't that these were entirely pressing concerns; rather, Annabel was trying to distract herself, and monologuing tended to do the trick.

Being this close to Simon was definitely helping, as well.