1. Sunlight reflected off the white snow and slanted upward through the windows, coloring the whitewashed walls amber. The hospital looked like a living photograph.
The illusion was blurred when the Doctor's door opened. He ushered out another syphilitic villager. "Drops, Pelageya," he demanded gruffly, shrugging away from the burly farmer. "Are we through for the day?"
As if she could answer that, what with the sick and demented showing up at the door at all hours. But she wanted him in a good mood, so she nodded. "Anna's taken the time to scrub the operating room, and the feldsher's out with the horse." She stood, beckoning the villager toward the dispensary. "Come along - let's see to those drops, eh?"
Once the patient departed, Pelageya tidied up the foyer, discreetly freshened up in the bath, then went to the Doctor's door. She knocked lightly. Then she knocked a bit harder. When there came no answer, she called out in a tone she hoped was trivial and wouldn't arouse Anna's attention. "Doctor? Are you in there?"
At that, she heard a small crash and some shuffling. "Er, yes! Just a moment!"
Pelageya adjusted her habit, stepping back a bit from the door. It'd been a few days since their disappointing assignation, and she was flushed with the hope he'd be able to make this time count.
The Doctor opened his door at last, pale and sweating. "Yes?" he demanded, sounding breathless.
Pelageya frowned. It wasn't unusual for the Doctor to exert himself between patients - calisthenics, he'd explained - but he appeared unwell to the midwife.
"Doctor? You look - here, allow me." Unbidden, she laid her hand on his cheek, then his forehead. He wasn't overwarm but he felt clammy. She pushed past him into the room. "Come, to bed with you. It won't do to lose your skill, what little there -" Pelageya cut herself off when she saw the uncorked brown bottle and the spent syringe on the Doctor's bedside table.
"It's not what you think!" the Doctor said, backing up until he ran into the door, shutting them both inside. Quickly, he moved to cork the morphine. "It's those pains in my stomach, you know, just horrible."
Compassionate though she was, the midwife was not stupid. Still, she could read the pleading look in the Doctor's eyes, and she was moved. "Yes, Doctor, I'm sure the pain is unbearable." She swallowed hard, then began to chide him. "I do regret you felt you couldn't have asked my help, though - self-administration is fraught with complications, as you well know." Pelageya laid a gentle hand on the Doctor's arm, guiding toward the bed. "Come now, into bed with you, and allow me to assist."
Her smile was beguiling as she tucked the blankets around him. She prepared a thin solution of the opiate, swabbed his sweating skin, and sank the plunger in with practiced efficiency.
"Oh, Pelageya," the Doctor sighed, smiling up at her. He lifted his arm weakly, made a pass for her cheek, but landed on her shoulder. "Thank you. You're so very... very..." His eyes closed.
The Doctor's pulse remained strong and his breath came normally, so she set about tidying the room. She fretted over what to do with the remaining morphine. If Anna found the dispensary deficient, there'd be a price. And if an inspector came 'round? It'd be the end of the hospital.
Still, that was a worry for a later moment. For now, Pelageya was content the Doctor had some opinion of her, even if it remained unspoken.
2. "Nika?"
The Doctor's eyes fluttered but remained closed.
Pelageya sank back against the Doctor's overstuffed pillows with a sigh. She'd been closer than ever before, but again, he'd simply passed out before the act could be completed. She was no stranger to doing for herself, but it still rankled that she should always be giving and he always taking.
Still, there was no sense in just going to bed in a pique, so she reached between her thighs, tipped her head back, and searched her recent memory for something worthwhile. Nika had shown particular fondness for her bared breasts, so she recounted to herself every moment she could recall of his thorough exploration.
Unbidden, an image swam before her. The Doctor, to be sure, but older, more distinguished, despite his boyishly shaven face.
"My lovely Pelageya," this vision murmured, bending to nuzzle her neck. "You're even more radiant than I remember. A brilliant crocus in this wasted land."
Pelageya smiled. "Whoever you are, please stay."
He nibbled a line along her neck, then her shoulder. "As long as you'll have me." He slid the blanket away from her breasts, and his hands took over where Pelageya's memory stopped. "Magnificent," he murmured, reverential.
His hands explored lower. "I'm sorry it's not like this with him."
Pelageya looked toward the flesh-and-blood Doctor, sleeping beside her, and saw him as through the wrong end of a telescope. She could feel his narrow frame pressing into her side, but he seemed removed from her by several arshin away.
"Will it ever be?"
He smiled slyly down at her, one lock of hair falling forward across his forehead. He looked younger, almost the mirror image of the Nika she knew. "Sometimes, yes. He's not always a fool. But enough about him." His hands slid between her damp thighs, pressing insistently against her.
Pelageya moaned, rocking her hips into his touch. He channeled his inherent dexterity into pleasing her, and it wasn't long before he took her over the edge.
As she regained her senses, the vision left her, and all that remained was his pale, snoring reflection, drooling onto her pillow.
3. "He didn't mean it."
Pelageya couldn't hear him, though. Her whole world was angry, confused, miserable tears.
"He did love you. You were all that kept him going." He looked at the door to the dispensary guiltily. Well, that was a lie she couldn't hear, but he regretted it nonetheless.
"I'm sorry, Pelageya. I hope you know he's... I'm... we're..." He stopped, swallowing hard. The midwife had stopped sobbing, but was now just crying piteously into the mop water she'd prepared. He laid a hand on her shoulder, though of course she couldn't feel him there. "I am a stupid man to have done this to you, Pelageya. You deserve better."
Once she was through pumping, Pelageya wiped her red, puffy eyes on her sleeves, hauled the steaming bucket off the floor, and marched back to the operating room, leaving him alone.
"I do love you," he called after her. She still couldn't hear him, but at least that wasn't a lie.