Man That Itches (PG-13)
Settings and warnings; Just after Scratch 'n' Sniff. Warnings and rating because there are some things you might not want to be explaining to your 12-year old.
Thanks: To Vinegardog for the beta, and Jo for the challenge.
Disclaimer: Not mine
Words: 610
Man That Itches (PG-13)
"Frankly, John I don't see why you insisted on coming here first," D'Argo loudly hectored his human friend.
It had been less than two arns since they had landed the transport pod, having been thrown off Moya by Pilot for the second time in a weeken. Unlike on LoMo, there didn't seem to be much to do for fun on this ball of rock, so, bored and exploiting the possibilities for antagonising John, D'Argo had accompanied his friend to the first diagnoscian that they could find.
"I would have been happy to take a look at it for you first, given you my opinion," D'Argo stated as they sat side by side on the black, sticky, faux-leather, wipe-clean waiting room bench. One or two of the room's other occupants looked their way at the sound of his booming voice. John sank a little deeper into the upholstery, as though by doing so he might encourage it to open up and swallow him, or at least conspire in making him invisible. "Why didn't you let me take a look at it?" the Luxan continued, like a big, red public address system.
"Because," John hissed between gritted teeth, "There are some things a guy doesn't want to show to another guy even when they're like bros… scrub that, especially when they're like bros." He paused and looked intently at the floor. "And unexplained little rashes in delicate areas are pretty damn high on that list," he added sotto voce.
"You could have got Jool to take a look at it for you," D'Argo continued, tossing what appeared to be a close approximation to an issue of National Geographic back onto the low table in front of them. He turned his gaze to the ornamental tank full of almost-but-not-quite fish. "I'm sure she'd have been pleased to…"
"No! Just… No!" John insisted side-eyeing the big Luxan, who was now huffing, hands on thighs and staring back at anyone who looked their way. Which included just about everyone present. "And can you PLEASE keep the volume down a bit?"
D'Argo harrumphed and then, catching the pretty receptionist's eye, flashed her a hopeful smile. She dismissed him with a haughty turn of her head. D'Argo shrugged and returned his attention to verbally torturing John.
'~'
John stomped out of the daignoscian's consulting room, eyes averted and face like thunder. It must be bad, D'Argo decided. Still, John was pretty close to a Sebacean in anatomy, so hopefully one of the treatments which had been perfected for them would also help John with whatever he had caught?
"Oh, my friend, I'm sure the diagnoscian will find a cure. And even if he doesn't, well, umm… " D'Argo's attempt at comforting words trailed off as John frowned and glared at him. Without saying a word the human stopped, stooped and picked up his leather coat from the waiting room bench. He shrugged it over his shoulders, still silently glaring at his friend.
"So, is it the Palgarian Pox?" D'Argo winced slightly at the thought. He'd known a Sebacean once who'd contracted that. Messy, painful, and all but incurable. "Mivonk Necrosis Virus?" He ventured. Even worse… and he wasn't sure that Luxans were immune to that one. Maybe he ought to get himself checked out. After all, they'd both been with the same pair of feathery ladies. "Halodian rash?" he added more hopefully. At least that one was fairly minor - most species even got over it without treatment. Luxans were completely unaffected.
"Feather allergy," John mumbled, coughing into his hand as he spoke evidently to cover his embarrassment. "C'mon, let's blow this pop-stand, go get a drink!"
The end