McCoy moved behind her with a click of his tongue at the sight of the wound, the scent of melted fabric and burned flesh. He made quick work of cutting from the neck line of her shirt to her sleeve, peeling what he could back and cutting around what stubbornly clung to the wound.

His eyes flicked to the gun, if only for a moment before he was back to work, rinsing the burn, making sure there was no further damage being caused as he slowly peeled away any clinging bits of fabric. "Do you need a local anesthetic?" Business first, until then he held his tongue on calling her out.