Well, Jeremy had hoped she might be more reasonable than her uncle has been, what with the assassination attempting and running away stuff. And it wasn't like she wasn't being reasonable. But that look was very Matheson and he recognized it as such. He still arched an eyebrow.

"I'm gonna leave what he should have done between you and him," he said, holding his hands up. "But given they have weaponry beyond what we expected, he's probably going to argue that." When he could. But Jeremy was going to keep that to himself, because he didn't need any of the men doubting the President was going to be fine.

He chose not to respond to what she thought he should have done. He'd been trying to keep her safe while Bass couldn't. Even now, she was in danger, and that was going to bite him in the ass more than likely.

"In his tent." They'd come in sight of it--the biggest one, in the center of the camp so it would be hard for an enemy to make it through to it. It was well set up, with the nicer things that he tended to have on long campaigns - his desk, a screen for privacy, the larger bed, though it was still a camp bed. There were two guards standing at the entrance, with a few more scattered around the area, clearly on watch for anyone unauthorized who got too close.