"That's normal," He looked over her again and straightened up. "I think that's about it."

Mickey nodded. "Thanks," she said, rolling her shoulder. It was stiff but not as bad.

Raven escorted him out.

Mac walked over to Mickey. "The doc's been pretty reliable for us, so I trust his diagnosis. He's dealt with a lot worse on our part alone."

"Really?" Garret asked.

"Really?" Mickey asked Mac. "What kind?"

"Well, there was this one time I nearly lost my arm in a fight with a pretty big demon. My demon form arm was barely hanging on. He sowed it shut and let the rapid regen do it's job, and I somehow didn't bleed to death. Had to walk around with a massive useless arm for a week though, for the little walking I was able to do anyway." Mac had a smile on his face the whole time he recounted it, like it was a pleasant experience or something.

"I don't think...that would be wise. Mickey maybe, but we don't know how medication would react with the demon bodies we have." Garret said.

"You seem so nonchalant about that,"

"Smells great," Commented Garret, walking back into the kitchen.

"I've gotten into my fair share of trouble this past year, too," Mickey said. "Though you guys probably know that, since you were tracking destruction to find me,"

"Yeah, but I kind of put us in this mess" Mort brought up.

"Oh well that's not true," Mickey pulled her shirt up a tad, revealing a nasty scar of claw marks deep into her side. "Got caught by a manticore."

(Who is Mort talking to?)

(He was just making a comment ot help Mickey feel better)

"Yeah, but the meat fed me for months afterwards, totally worth it, and I got a cool scar," Mickey let her shirt drop. "So...Scott was going to show me the uh...kids?"

Garret frowned, unable to deny it outright. "Your dinner is way better though, Mickey can't cook cook for shit, she can only bake."