Normandy SR2

Medbay

Zaeed sat his ass on the medbay bed closest to the AI core and occupied himself with quietly bleeding as he watched Chakwas move around medbay with that quick-yet-somehow-unhurried stride peculiar to doctors.

The bright overhead lights gleamed in her chin-length silver sweep of hair. He'd never seen that hair out of place, not even once. Her eyes were green as leaves in a face more aged by life experience than actual lines. She'd colored her lips with some ripe, rich color today. He didn't know what color it was. Didn't care. Made her look kissable, and that's what mattered.

Goddamn.

"Are you in any significant pain, Mr. Massani?"

Damn, that cool voice. His fingers tightened on the edge of the bed. Collected and British and oh-so-competent. He wondered what she'd say if he told her where the real pain was, and bullet holes be damned.

His voice sounded rustier than normal, even to his own ears. "Heh. Yeah. But I'll live."

Chakwas paused, one hand over a selection of bandages. One elegant brow arched, a perfect silver curve over those green, green eyes. "How about you let me be the judge of that?"

Zaeed thought of about nine different things he could say at that moment, all of them varying shades of inappropriate, but knew better than to voice them, at least not right then. He shrugged, ignoring the fact that it made him bleed a bit faster. "Eh, it's an in an' out thing, doc. Just needs a bandage and a smile from a pretty lady, hey?"

Now both Chakwas' hands were on her hips. "Mr. Massani, are you flirting with me?"

"Would I do that?" He leered at her. She had goddamn nice hips.

"Of course you would." She gathered her supplies and brought them over to the bed. "The only reason I'm not punching you for it is that I suspect you're going to give me quite enough to repair on you already."

"I've survived worse." Zaeed waggled his eyebrows at her, then caught his breath as the doctor stepped between his legs and produced an omni-scalpel. "Hey, now, I was just havin' a bit of fun. It wasn't that bad, was it? Doc?"

Chakwas' green eyes glinted up at him, deep and cool. "Yes. It was. Now, hold still, Mr. Massani."

She sliced his shirt right below his left pectoral, moving the blade down to his ribs. Zaeed found himself getting a little twitchy when the blade got closer to his hip. He'd survived a shot to the head that took half his face, but even he wasn't happy with sharp blades near body parts that no sane man wanted sharp blades near. He took a deep breath, inhaling Chakwas' cool scent - something minty and lemony and overlaid with the astringent scents of disinfectant and medigel - and focused on the hands holding the scalpel.

Yeah, look at those hands. That's the ticket. Long fingers. Look at how they hold that blade. Goddamn elegant, they are. Reminds me of that asari back on Omega... Fuck. How many years ago? Eh, doesn't matter. She had a way with her hands, that one. Bet the doc here has a way with hers, all cool and soft and...

Zaeed winced when he realized that his admittedly brief fantasy had had the effect of bringing his cock closer to where Chakwas was working over the bullet hole below his ribs than it had been a moment earlier.

Not that it was his goddamn fault he was so much man, but in this particular set of circumstances, reach had its disadvantages.

"Mr. Massani, if you're trying to impress me... do stop."

Zaeed blinked, for once at a loss for words, even dirty ones. Chakwas had sounded cool and amused, and when he risked a glance downward at her, he realized that she had a faint smile on her face.

"Eh, sorry, Doc. No disrespect meant." He shifted on the medbay bed, unsure if he should say anything else on the matter or just put a bullet in it and let it rot where it fell.

"None taken. This time." Chakwas hummed a little as she finished sealing up the hole in his side. "I suppose I should appreciate you voluntarily storing that much blood in a lower location. It made it easier to clean out that wound."

For the second time in as many minutes, Zaeed blinked. "You're goddamn joking, right?"

"Yes." She stepped back, taking those cool, competent hands and her cool scent with her. "Now, I've set the wound with medigel, and you were right, it was a through and through injury - "

"You're goddamn right I was right. I know my bullet wounds, Doc."

Chakwas did that eyebrow arching thing at him again. "Then you also know you should keep the site clean and dry. You'll be recovered in a day or so, but for now, I'm recommending to the commander that you be taken off combat rotation."

"This ain't a goddamn military ship, Chakwas." He slid off the table and scowled at her. "You don't have to make recommen-goddamn-dations to Shepard. Girl's got a head on her shoulders. She can see if I'm fit or not, hey?"

"Of course she can. But Shepard trusts my judgement."

Zaeed caught her wrist when she moved to gather the bloody cloth lying discarded on the bed. "Shepard trusts you, eh? You ever do anything to make her question that judgement, doctor?"

Chakwas glanced down at the large hand clamped around her wrist, and then lasered an inscrutable green glance at him. With a deft move, she rotated her wrist and yanked her arm down, working her greater leverage against the weakest part of his hold. The pressure against the joining of his thumb and forefinger broke his grip, but the doctor didn't step back.

She did, however, press two fingers - lightly - against the hole below his ribs.

"Ow! Goddamn, woman!" He clapped a hand over the pain and sent her a wounded look. "That hurt!"

Again with the eyebrow. "I'm quite certain it did." That crisp British tone grew decidedly frosty. "Now, kindly step back before I do anything else that would butt up against my Hippocratic oath, would you?"

A slow smile spread across his face. "You got spine, Chakwas. Goddamn, but that's attractive as fuck."

She sighed, and Zaeed found himself wanting to taste the air as she breathed it out. "I'm assuming you meant that as a compliment, Mr. Massani."

"You're goddamn right, I do. I like spine. Rare thing." And because he did, he stepped back, gave her space. "I respect spine, Chakwas."

"I respect manners." Her green eyes glittered at him, and there was a tiny, tiny smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

"Yeah? I'll show you goddamn manners, doc. You wait. I'm a goddamn gentleman, I am." To prove it, he thought about bowing. Winced. Nodded his head with rusty respect because that would involve a lot less pain. "Do me a favor, doc. You ever decide to give Shepard a reason to question your judgement, let me know, hey?"

She smirked. Chakwas honest to God smirked. "Mr. Massani, I think I can safely say you would be the first to know."

"Yeah?" He blinked. Tried to breathe. "You want to check my wound, because I'm clearing all the blood away for you again."

"This is what you call being a gentleman?" But her eyes dropped to below his waist. And widened just a little bit.

Well now, didn't that just make a man feel better about everything? "What can I say, doc? I was raised right, hey?" Zaeed grabbed her hand again, but this time, he raised it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the backs of her knuckles.

He felt the tremor in her fingers right against his mouth. Ah, I still goddamn got it. "Night, doc. Thanks for the patch job."

Zaeed let go of Chakwas' hand just as the door chimed softly and slid open to allow Shepard into the medbay. "Hey, kid. Good fun today, yeah?"

"Um..." He watched the commander's dark eyes lasered between him and the suspiciously silent doctor. "Yeah. If you can count husks fun. Your side all right, Zaeed?"

"Right as rain, Shepard. Right as fucking rain." Whistling a little, he offered both women a jaunty little two-fingered salute and strutted out into the mess hall.