"Playing Doctor"
By Starhopper
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. Never did, never will, and never can. Unfortunately.
YAY! I love my one shots. This one's been bouncing around my brain for quite some time now. Try a year. But now I'm done with the first chapter . . . expect another in the near future! ENJOY!
Megumi leaned against the doorframe; the sound of the blood rushing out of her head and splashing over her ears was making it extremely difficult to focus on anything else. And that included caring for and tending to the sick and the wounded. Covering her face with sweaty palms, the doctor teetered on her legs as she tried to ignore the pounding in her temples. If only that and the lightheadedness would just go away, she would be able to save some lives today!
"Oi, Kitsune where's the bandages?"
Or save the mending hand bones of a baka-street fighter whose ears might have been stuffed with cotton for all the listening he did to her medical advice.
Or lack thereof.
With a suffering sigh, Megumi pushed herself off the doorframe and stalked over to her patient. He was waiting for her in his usual position with legs crossed and his right hand proffered on the short table she kept in this room specifically for him. Practically falling to her knees in exhaustion, she took a breath and put on a healthy face.
"What took ya so long?"
"I don't have to come running each time you call," she retorted as his hand split into five different ones, each held with care respectively in her five hands. When had she grown these extra limbs? She swallowed and shook her head while blinking her eyes and hoping that the world would not start to spin.
"Ah, but you do," he flashed her a cheeky grin and leaned in to make her aware of the accompanying wink, "Don't ya Kitsune?"
But through the haze of dizziness and fluttering fever, Megumi missed his attempt at being charming and heard only the chauvinist comment.
"Fine Tori - " glancing up at him through her bangs, the doctor found that Sano had multiplied with his hand as well. Five identical Sanosukes were staring at her intently and she settled to breathe, "- atama."
"What's the matter Kitsune?" the young man anxiously shrugged his shoulders at the vacancy he saw in her eyes. He didn't anticipate her to faint, but dove across the table to catch her in his arms when the breath holding her up was let out.
For a moment Sanosuke just lay there with her head resting on his shoulder. His arms wrapped around her shoulders, he wondered why this couldn't have happened when she wasn't unconscious. It would've been nice to feel her response as he placed a soft kiss to her temple and hugged her harder.
Dr. Genzai ambled in with Suzame and Ayame in tow just as the gangster's lips drifted off her skin and over to his own shoulder in thought. The nineteen year old could feel the heat of her body against his chest, setting him to sweat under the fire of her fever. Pushing a stream of cool air through his teeth, Sano watched his ice-breath ruffle her bangs, but Megumi still remained impassive, unblinking, dead. Shuddering at the morbid thought, he crawled around his side of the table to hers, leaning his torso over the table so as not to disturb and stretch her body further. Having succeeded in this endeavor, Sano proceeded to turn her over and pull her into his lap, waving off the heat with his left hand while his right stroked her arm in what he hoped was simply comfort.
His ears twitched at the muffled chuckle and out of the corner of his eye he saw the old man smile. He was convinced they were being watched by these wise old eyes when Dr. Genzai coughed. But when he turned towards the door, the senior doctor was chatting quietly with his granddaughters . . . and directly in the doorframe so as to draw attention to their presence and the old man's advice.
"Seems Auntie Megumi worked too hard," Dr. Genzai consulted with Ayame, "We always tell her to take a break now and then, don't we?"
With an emphatic nod, Suzame crossed her arms and flashed a smile. "That we do,"
Sano suppressed a laugh. The little girl had spent one to many times playing with the scarred ex-hitokiri.
"Well, I think a cold compress is in order, and plenty of sleep."
"Who'll look after her?" Ayame chimed in tune with an inquisitive bell. "I can't,"
"I can't either," Suzame added wistfully.
"And I can't, because I have to run the clinic," the doctor supplied with a wink. "And Kaoru-chan and Ken-san can't possibly do it."
"Nani?" The girls replied in a pitying chorus. Complete with clasped hands held in front of their throats and glimmering eyes, Sano noticed. He knew that Kenshin and Jou-chan had vacated the dojo with just a little too much haste when they discovered the tofu bucket was empty. Jou-chan was practically skipping down the street to be catch up with Kenshin. Ah, when would those two ever see it?
Dr. Genzai explained exactly what the nineteen year old had taken into account before turning towards the ex-fighter for hirer who currently held the woman-in-need, and gestured towards him.
"What about you, Sanosuke-san?"
Like he hadn't seen this coming. "Hai, hai." He replied even as he hooked his left arm under her knees and hoisted her up against his chest. "I guess I could," Now standing with an unconscious Megumi draped over his arms, he shrugged his shoulders. "They won't miss me at the game,"
"Ah, arigato," the fakers bowed and stepped aside to allow the two passage to the hall. As Sanosuke passed the old man, he rolled his eyes and growled. "Whatever could you be thinking, ojii-san?"
"Iie, nothing. Just finding someone available." He pointed down the hall and to the left absentmindedly and directed, "Just set up the futon in the middle of the room, directly in front of the entrance to the porch and I'll bring in the compresses."
"And what about her clothes?" his skin was starting to stick to the fabric of her working outfit.
"Ah," the eyes of the old man danced with a very young, very familiar spark of mischief. Starting with the younger man's feet, he let them travel over the fitting pair and finally settled on the telling eyes of Sanosuke. "I'll let you be the judge."
"Yatta," Sano replied, his voice lacking the enthusiasm needed for celebratory exclamation. However, he stopped halfway to his destination and twisted around to question the doctor. The retreating backs of the three conspirators met his inquisitive gaze and with a perplexing frown, he continued his walk with Megumi's rasping breath echoing his footsteps.
Once in her room, Sano stopped and shifted her slipping limbs closer to his chest. Surveying the area of her modest room, he found a futon prepared flat on the ground and with a quick kick, it was in place directly in front of the porch shoji as Genzai had instructed. He kneeled, casting a quick glace about the room in curiosity. She had only arrived at the clinic with the clothes on her back and the dagger Shinomori had given back to her. A folding screen was erected in the corner, and over that he spotted her sleeping yukata. He imagined it had belonged to Dr. Genzai's wife, judging from the age of the piece. The crane that spread its wings on the rice paper was a nice touch, homey.
In the opposite corner was a short desk not dissimilar from the working table she used to fix him. Some papers were stacked in neat piles and a brush lay diagonally across the stack.
Untying her working smock, Sanosuke used one hand to press her against his shoulder for support and worked the material off with the other. A darkened kimono lay underneath and without hesitation, he started to peel the neck back to reveal her skin shining with a thick coat of sweat.
At this point, Sano bit back the bile of worry. He had seen sick people, been sick before, but he had never taken care of one. And her life may very well lie in his broken hands. Shaking away any thoughts dragging down his need to help her with a swing of his head, the teenager moved his supporting hand to her lower back and extracted one arm from the endless tunnel of her right sleeve. Her white shoulder exposed, he shifted her weight onto his other side and finding himself losing balance, sat up on his knees and pulled her up with him.
The fox would surely have his chicken-head if she woke up at this moment. However, he could always argue that gravity wasn't on his side today, and that's why he pinned her knees together between his. Mentally reasoning his way out of the predicament, Sanosuke continued to slide the left sleeve off her arm while he leaned over her, dipping her over his arm.
The neck of the kimono gaped wide, the natural weight of the sleeves pulling it lower and lower until her bound chest was exposed. Pushing all hentai thoughts out of his head, the young man decided now was the time to put Megumi on the futon. Easing her back against the bed, her legs slipped out from beneath her and skidded across the floor between his legs. However, this lovely little occurrence went unnoticed as Sano took each moment to set her softly down and not disturb her.
As her head was set against the pillow, Megumi whimpered and a sleepy lid fluttered to find a hand at her spine forcing her to arch her back as Sanosuke crouched over her.
Suddenly the sleepy lid was not so sleepy.
Fevered delusions of this favored patient doing unspeakable things began to assault that overworked mind of hers as she realized her kimono had been partially removed. First panic, then anger, and finally blazing rage trickled through every vein that had momentarily shut down in her collapse. She was awake now, and irritated beyond belief.
And the only means of defense was a well-placed kick to the most sensitive place on a man's body. She knew what the results would be only too well . . . she had used the move on Kanryuu too many times to count.
And look at that, her legs were under his spread ones. Perfect.
One second he was placing an unconscious fox-doctor on the futon, and then next he was glaring daggers at a very conscious, not to mention smug Megumi as he curled into a ball next to her.
"Can I ask you a question Tori-atama,"
"Kuso, Megitsune," he ground out while trying to sit up.
She smirked and folded her arms behind her head as he gave something between a growl and a yelp and settled to fold himself around his injury. "I'll take that as a yes." Her head still lying on the pillow, she stared at him intently. "Just what were you planning to do?" After all, this was Sanosuke, he'd never . . .
"Take care of you, you ungrateful Kitsune,"
"Is that what you call it?" she barked out harshly, folding her arms across her bound chest. In her sickness, rage was quickly fading to the dark end of fear. Protection.
"No," he had managed to quell the burning pain and roll onto his knees, his face inches from hers. "You're sick, I'm taking care of you,"
She didn't back down from the challenge his nearness presented, and jutted her chin out. "Playing doctor?" she sniffed contemptuously, "I don't believe it."
"You could call it that," he mused aloud, studying the ground where the tatami mat met the quilted softness of her futon. "I'm in charge now,"
"I disagree," she grinned, adding a bite to her voice to draw his attention back to their argument. She was already feeling much better than she had when she first woke. But now she wanted him to back off and let her breathe.
And the world was swimming behind his head. Her room was slowly dissolving into swirls and dancing curly-cues about her, but Sano was the only figure that remained constant and crystal clear. Right down to the folds in his bandana, the deepness of his brown eyes, and the faded scars of past battles lining his chin and cheeks.
"Your body is weak, all you can do is mouth off."
"Big talk for a man who just was kicked in the cro-"
She was cut off as he dug his hands into the folds of her kimono and started to pull the remaining sides off her sticky skin.
"Just what are you doing?" to her surprise, he was right. All energy was generated in her retorts, but to do something as simple as swatting away his hands she was as limp and lifeless as one of Suzame's dolls.
"Getting you cooled off," he worked steadily until she was laying on top of her kimono and much to her irritation, feeling . . . better. Cool air was a blessing from Kami-sama. But she continued to glare at him as he took a moment to run his hand down her hamstrings. Sensing her glare, he flashed her smile. "Nothing to worry about, it's a trick I learned from the Seikihoutai, gets the blood flowing again,"
Megumi could only growl. As well as ignore the firecracker sparkler that seemed to roll up and down her spine as his hands touched her legs. It rolled faster as his stroking steadily increased to the point that she was closing her eyes to shut out the image of him rubbing her skin with so much intense care.
"Daijoubou Kitsune?" Sano glanced up and found her squeezing her eyes shut and biting her lip. With a dejected sigh, he nearly growled, "Come off it, my hands aren't that rough,"
But they were, oh they were.
Taking a breath, Megumi tried to shake her head into some sense, but the fever forced her to keep her head still. From outside wherever he had sent her to, the doctor shook her head and chewed her lower lip. "Baka, you don't do that with a person who's hot. I'll be overheated in no time now,"
The tone in his voice was hurt and then some. "Forgive me for trying to help you," but then the same kick and jibe was back as he took her legs in his hands at mid-shin, "You ungrateful Kitsune."
Abruptly her eyes were forced open as he gingerly flipped her over like a fish. She continued to flop just as insistently as any mackerel would while her body unwittingly rotated to rest on her stomach. Strength had continued to allude her imminent grasp, much to her irritation. For when Sano straddled her legs, she couldn't buck him off or deliver an insistent kick demanding her release.
Sensing her 'displeasure', (as if she would ever phrase the feeling so delicately) he picked himself up, but not before patting her back.
"Daijoubou Megitsune," His tone was jovial and not the least bit sympathetic to her plight. What was meant to still fears only riled them. "I'm sure I can find – some – way of cooling you off,"
She tried her very best to squirm in protest, resulting in an imperceptible shimmy. "Just wait until I'm healthy,"
"That all depends on me Fox," she could perceive the audible smirk. How one person could fill such a phrase with that much ego and cockiness, she'd never know. Though it was easy when he was confident in his accuracy of such a remark. "If you're just the slightest bit nicer, I might forget about the 'kick'."
"You would have done the same thing, had you been in my position." She growled back, adding a jab of her leg for emphasis. It should have done damage, but in her state, the great mule-kick turned into a slight tick of her knee.
"Your strength is comin' back I see," Sano mused under his breath, casting a hopeful glance to the doorway for the cold compresses Dr. Genzai had promised for him. Disappointed, he took a breath and turned determined brown eyes to his patient.
Megumi could feel herself under his gaze and tucked her elbows into her sides. The old habit of preserving modesty had resurrected itself at an unneeded moment.
Rolling his eyes, the ex-gangster crossed his legs and fell to the floor ready for a long chat. "Listen, I didn't do anything that I thought would make ya embarrassed on purpose," as an aside, "I'm not – that – much of a brute,"
"You're nineteen!"
"That's got nothin' to do with it, and you know it!" he barked back, suddenly holding his wrapped hand to his chest. Briefly, he wondered at the reaction, but a sudden scuffle at the doorway dragged away his attention from yelling at a helpless vixen.
Yeah, right.
"There've been times when I can be a pretty good guy,"
Yes, but there were his stupid times too that outnumbered the good. "Like the time you bet that thug you couldn't shatter a wall,"
A healing muscle in his right hand pinched a bit at that memory. "Hey, he threatened Jou-chan, and Kenshin wasn't there! But I did win enough to pay ya back for Kyoto,"
"Tori-atama, there isn't enough money in JAPAN that you could get your hands on to even cover all the hundreds of treatm - "
"Did somebody need compresses?"
Setting the side of her head to the futon, Megumi joined Sano in their appraisal of Dr. Genzai. He held a box of compresses in one hand and the handle of a water-bucket in the other. For a clinic, this was very normal. But the two granddaughters who stood at each leg smiling with their own packages was enough to make a brave man like Sanosuke swallow in fear.
"How are you feeling Auntie-Megumi?" They chorused softly, the care they took in talking to the sick doctor tugging at the ex-gangster's heartstring. First Ayame, then Suzume ducked out from behind their grandfather, hurrying over to their adoptive aunt on a blur of little legs. Kneeling by Megumi's head, a patient's yukata and chilled spongecake were proffered, much to the doctor's thankful smile. She looked so beautiful, the sweat sheened at the corners of her cheekbones to bathe her face in a heavenly glow. It reflected in her eyes as she swallowed the tiny cut of cake popped into her mouth by Suzame.
"You seem to be smiling yourself."
Smacking his palm to the side of his face, Sanosuke quite literally knocked himself back into a conversation he'd taken up with Dr. Genzai when he'd joined the grandfather at the doorway. But he couldn't harden the soft tone that overwhelmed the next words.
"It's good to see her smiling again," his brown eyes connected to hers and she immediately turned the smile into a smirk. "She had me worried there for a moment,"
"Ah, not to worry Sanosuke-san," the old man clapped a hand to Sano's back before shoving the compresses into his stomach. As the fighter clambered to get a hold on the box, Dr. Genzai chuckled. "Just make sure she gets no hotter than she is now. These cloths should do the trick nicely,"
The mentholated material quickly began to cool off a very hot Sanosuke, who hadn't really noticed how warm he'd gotten while taking care of the fox. "I can almost agree with you Genzai-sensei,"
The old man winked at that term of endearment, then turned his attention to calling his granddaughters back. After some whispered secrets between just the girls, the two came running back, wearing grins that were ill fitting and immature compared to their grandfather's. His was glimmering with a twinkle known only to him.
Sliding the shoji shut with the toe of his shoe, Sanosuke looked back over to Megumi. Chin resting on folded arms, she thoughtfully chewed on another piece of sponge cake, seemingly disinterested in the goings on between men. In fact, she looked rather pleased with herself from the few moments she'd been granted to talk with the youngsters.
Sanosuke felt drawn towards her by the secret that made her act exceedingly pompous.
"So what was that about?" his neck was craning to pick up any more clues in her body language. However, the maleness only pointed out the female attributes and did nothing for solving such a mystery.
When she finally turned her head to look at him, cross-legged and lazily balancing the box on his knees, she rolled her eyes. "Why do you want to know? We're only silly women after all,"
His beak snapping on his tongue, Sanosuke took a deep breath as he grabbed for a compress. He hated it when she avoided questions like that. "Do you find yourself hot kitsune?" without answer, he lightly slapped the cloth against the patch of skin stretched between her shoulder blades. "Not to worry, I'll be sure to cool ya off,"
At the slightest crack of the material, she rose up on her elbows eyebrows, knit in seething dislike for the conditions at hand. "You won't if you continue to do that,"
"Is that a," he twirled the end of a rag on his finger, "threat?" With the last word, he let it snap onto her shoulder. "You're in no position to be making threats," Megumi followed the finger-point to her exposed left breast, "are you?" and grew red in anger as she flopped back down.
"Why didn't you say anything Tori-atama?"
His pet name, gritted and demanding as it was, did nothing but stretch his arm over her back and apply a fresh compress to the small of her back. Sano couldn't help but notice at how the rest of her body arched around the pressure applied there.
"I was frankly enjoying the view Megitsune,"
"Low enough to sneak a peak?" she snorted again, that contemptuous, disbelieving snort that irritated her usual patient to no end. "I would've thought by now that you'd be bored by the sight of them,"
He stopped dabbing a small circle of coolness around her spine to squeak a very confused "Huh?!"
"I mean, you being the ladies man you've claimed to be, you'd have seen your share of women's chests." Her voice chastised his very character. He could not let her get away with it.
"If you can see it my way, then I won't ask about your other male patients," he spat back with just as much, if not more venom than what she had dripped from the needle of her voice. At this, she reared to her knees, enraged out of her skin and not the least bit cognizant of a severe draft breezing about a very naked chest.
"I HAVE NEVER DONE ANYTHING THE LIKES THAT YOU ACCUSE ME OF!" she roared, before collapsing back down into her stomach, gasping for breath. "And stop . . . making . . . me . . . hot,"
"But then I won't be able to cool ya off," Sanosuke answered her with a compress to her forehead, continued, "It's too much fun to quit now,"
"Immature,"
"You like me young and you know it," he waggled his eyebrows suggestively while letting his voice drop low to a rumble.
"I repeat, immature,"
"I'm mature enough to know how to take care of ya when you're sick," Sanosuke didn't realize he was talking aloud and in a defensive tone. But at a sudden shift beneath the hand at her back, he heard her.
"I guess you have me there, thanks."
"What was that? Did you just thank me?"
She nodded, suddenly silent and preoccupied with pulling the fresh yukata on if only to cover her naked front. "Now, could you continue applying the compresses? It's working really well. I can feel my fever going down."
"Told ya it would work," Megumi didn't need to see his chest puff up to know he was taking pride in her compliment. And being as tired, not to mention thankful as she really was, she let him have the moment to reference for future conversations. Hopefully he'd learn that being gracious got him something better than an earful. But she was caught completely off guard when the next moment she felt the back of his hand testing her forehead.
"Verifying a fact?" she mumbled, closing her eyes to avoid any potential eye contact.
"Uh-uh," he moved his hand over a fraction and she could feel each piece of gauze through that small space of contact. "You're just a little too warm for my comfort, t'sall." A compress was applied to her shoulder this time, followed by a soft puff of air at the base of her neck.
All heat was forgotten as a spider web of tingles wove about her body.
Several moments of silence passed, in which only the sounds of life echoed about Megumi's room. Slowly, regretfully, her breathing eased and softened in rhythm with her caretaker's while Sano's strained as he stretched over her back to touch a hot spot or two with a compress tip. It was between dreaming and deep sleep that the touching stopped. She knew it immediately, but due to sick exhaustion, Megumi swallowed deeply and let go of the last threads of consciousness.
Sanosuke continued to sit back against the wall and watch her sleep. He supposed there were more interesting things to do, like rifling through the stack of papers on her desk. But he could think of finding no better piece of information than seeing her sleep before him.
Crossing his legs and arms, the nineteen year old tilted his head to see her face in a better light. The previous one had ground out her curt little chin into flab, and made her eyes look unbecomingly narrow.
"That's better," he nodded to himself aloud, grinning from ear to ear that he'd made her look so good. Catching himself, he added, "Man, I do have an ego, I mean, here's a beautiful onna like the Kitsune and I'm takin credit for makin her that way."
It wasn't any surprise. He'd always been able to appreciate the robust curves of a female.
But with the Kitsune, it was . . . different. There was something about her that incited that same something within him. She was calling to him with the bat of her eyelashes, sashay of her hips, and pleading pout when he had had enough and was ready to call it quits. How could he talk with such an infuriating woman? But he could watch her easily enough without any stress.
Well, that wasn't exactly true either. The stress of fighting with himself to answer everyone of her unspoken questions, the struggle that tore through him to ignore whatever womanly wiles this fox was imploring caused great frustration. He felt physically exhausted every time they fought, and yet . . .
Satisfied. Exulted. Like he had tossed the winning dice game and someone had been there to witness it, to congratulate him afterwards on being a hero.
Feeling his eyes become heavy, Sanosuke leaned against the wall and cast a sleepy glance over to the slumbering Kitsune. Her beauty was gleaned from life-experience, something the slum of the underworld could never achieve. It was her tough exterior that made her glow with all the shit she had been through.
"We're so different, too different," he whispered without voice. If he had given body to it, the grating luster of his tone would have cracked under the emotion straining in his heart.
"They're so similar, too similar,"
From his post at the door, Dr. Genzai watched the last longing look settle on the doctor. After he was sure both were asleep, he shook his head.
Both were too different and yet all the same to ever recognize their similarity.
Both too proud to ever see beyond the veneer of their friendship to the grains of concern and lines of respect running true underneath.
Both were so damned stubborn and stuck in their ruts that neither would budge even if Megumi bent first. After this last attempt by the ex-fighter-for-higher, she would have to be the next to make another move.
Shuffling back to his own room, Dr. Genzai waved off all their differences with a sure grin. Regardless of what didn't happen, there was one thing he was sure of . . . the help he alone was offering wouldn't be enough.
He'd have to call in the reserves.
A/N: Well, what do ya guys think? PLEASE REVIEW so I can strengthen my writing skills. Constructive Criticism is more than appreciated, it's encouraged!
Thank you all, and peace be with you for the this cheerful holiday season!
Starhopper