"I'm so fucking tired of tonight already," Jag muttered, not really in answer to her words, but he did reach out to take the hankie and hold it to his wound. He was pissed, pissed off, and had lost blood. He was staying on the ground for now. And here was a posh bint ready to play good samaritan? "I'm all right," he told her. "Cheers for that. I'll be fine." Could she sod off already? The last thing he needed was for her to get an ambulance.