Ronon sat on the edge of a bed in the Atlantis infirmary, crimson blood oozing from a small cut above his right eyebrow
Ronon sat on the edge of a bed in the Atlantis infirmary, crimson blood oozing from a small cut above his right eyebrow. Jennifer turned towards him, swab in her hand.
"This will sting a little," she warned, as she gently began to cleanse the wound. She paused conversation for a moment, focusing on the job at hand before continuing with a wry smile, "If I didn't know better, from the number of times you end up in here, I'd think you were trying to injure yourself on purpose."
"Maybe I am," Ronon replied, a teasing smirk turning up the side of his mouth.
Jennifer turned away, hiding a smile, and began to prepare the suture material she'd need. Her golden blonde hair cascaded in a ponytail, dancing over her shoulders and back as she worked. Ronon admired her from across the room. There was a beauty about her, an innocence like a child, yet also a strength he doubted even she was aware of.
Turning back to her patient, Jennifer briefly caught his appreciative gaze. Thrown for a moment, she looked away briefly, regaining composure, her professional front. "You're going to need stitches."
"Will it scar?"
"Not if I do my job right," she returned, smiling.
"Oh well." Ronon sounded disappointed.
She looked at him, confused.
He smiled playfully, "Scars are just tattoos with better stories."