The good news was that Smith made it back alive. The bad news Maureen brought with a somber expression, "They said the doctor went out with a rescue team to find a crewmember who had broken his leg falling into crevasse. The survey team was two days out so even with an ATV they figure he will be gone for a while. The physician associate is sick as a dog in his cabin thanks to a bad batch of berries. They say he'll be fine but he's pretty incapacitated."
"Why not ask Melissa?" Judy Robinson asked quietly. "She works in the medical division doesn't she."
"Negative, Judy Robinson," chimed in the Robot, moving closer and putting a comforting claw on her shoulder. "Melissa is listed on the crew roster as a researcher, not actually medical support."
John stood outside the cabin, watching Melissa and Smith. The woman had picked up one limp hand and was holding it, pressed tightly to her cheek. Her eyelashes looked long and heavy as if she wanted to cry but no tears streaks lined her skin.
As if sensing their probing eyes, she turned and gave them a questioning look. Seeing their sullen expressions, she knew. "They can't come, can they?"
"No, not right away. Fernandez is well out of reach. O'Doyle is locked up in the 'head' of his own ship, sick as a dog." He took a few steps closer and pulled up a chair. "We don't know much about treating anything more complex than a few cuts and scrapes and splinting a broken bone."
Hesitantly, Melissa nodded to indicate she understood. Her glazed eyes cleared a bit however, and she calmly stated, "Well, I guess it's up to us to figure out something, isn't it?" She stood up and looking directly at Will, asked him to get a pair of bandage scissors. When the boy returned, she cut off the t-shirt and did a quick exam to see if he'd gotten any bruises that might have caused hemorrhaging under the skin. Aside from a few smaller contusions there was nothing of note.
Next, she made a long cut up the injured leg, cutting away the material until she had a clear view of the thigh. Surprised, she noted that he'd been accurate in his assessment of the injury. There was nothing but a few minor scratches and one fairly deep cut that looked to be free of obvious infection, though the edges were all clearly red and puffed up.
"Bacterial infection?" Judy asked from the doorway.
Melissa shook her head, "No, I don't think so. Of course, we aren't on Earth but most bacterial infections take a longer time to bring about such dramatic systemic changes.
"He got sick far too quickly and it progressed so rapidly."
Stroking his chin with a strong finger, John asked, "You said he told you he probably cut in on brambles on the way up. Is it possible the tips put a resin inside the wound and it's something our bodies can't handle?"
"I…I guess," she responded hesitantly. "Let's get an IV started, with a broad-spectrum antibiotic added just in case Judy is right. And we'll need to figure out some way to get a fever reducer into him. He's obviously running a high temp. I can feel it. Cold compresses will help to some degree but a systemic med like Ibuprofen would work better."
Reluctantly, she got up and with Judy's help quickly located the IV bags and the antibiotic, plus syringes. One of the syringes she injected into the IV bag as planned. It had been a very long time since she'd done any phlebotomy work but, much to her immense relief, the veins on the back of his hand were large and prominent. Hitting the vein proved to be far easier than she expected and soon the IV fluids were running into his bloodstream at a slow drip. With the other vacuum containers and syringe, she drew blood samples from the other arm.
As she worked, she kept going over the events of the morning. The fall, the lake, the creature and ensuing battle to escape, her terrified flight back to land. The sounds of water splashing. Those awful sucking sounds. Despite her terror, she had turned around to see Smith…Zachary…stabbing the beast with the wooden spear, its head thrashing in agony, crashing back into the water a mere hand length away from … and then it hit her like a physical blow. She finally understood where the real danger lay. Not in the brambles or some alien bacteria or virus, but in the barbs of those awful tentacles.
Clutching the tubes close to her body, she called imploringly, "Keep a close eye on him. Please."
Maureen's beautiful eyes scrutinized her face. "Going back to you ship?"
Melissa nodded, "I'm going to run some tox screens on this.
Unconsciously John moved his tall imposing form in her path. "You figured something out, haven't you?"
"I think I know what the cause of this is but without the toxicology screens I can't be sure. Even then, I don't know if this toxin will show up."
Looking very much afraid, the beautiful matriarch of the Robinson family instinctively moved to join her husband. "What toxin? Is this something in the plant life?" she asked, not exactly having all the details yet.
"No. Professor Robinson will fill you in, but there was a beast that attacked us. It had claws on the edge of each tentacle. I thought they served only one purpose. That was to hook the prey and draw it too the mouth, kind of like an earth hydra or anemone. And I just assumed that it physically aided the creature in feeding itself. But that is only part of the story. I think when it finally ran off it must've accidentally bumped Za… Dr. Smith's leg. That's probably where he got the scratches."
She paused to roll one dark red tube between her fingers, awed by the thought that she was holding his life's blood in her hand, just as his life itself now also rested in her hand. When she spoke again, the awe in her voice was unmistakable. "I'm taking these to run through the analyzer. If we are lucky the computer will identify the foreign substance and suggest an antidote."
"And if we aren't lucky?" John asked the obvious question.
"He'll have to either ride it out best as he can or else he'll …." She choked back a sob, unable to continue. When she finally composed herself, Melissa skirted both Maureen and John, before heading to the lift. In moments she was gone, but not before giving one final anguished glance at the doctor's cabin.
Maureen willingly took over the chore of bathing Smith's feverish skin with cool water and monitoring his vital signs. For a brief minute or two he came around, only partially attaining consciousness. But it was enough to get some liquified ibuprofen into him. He took it, barely, coughing as it went down and called out a single word, "Lissa." A second or two later he passed out again.
For the next hour, everyone in the Robinson party, prowled around or near the cabin. William eagerly left now and then to replace the water and to see if he could locate Melissa on her return trip. The wait seemed interminably long. Even Don wasn't immune to his long-time adversary's occasional groan of pain.
Another hour went by, with comatose periods broken only by brief bouts of delirium. Judy took over for Maureen, who had only taken a break long enough to splash cool water on her face and to get a drink. John was standing by the galley and pulled his wife gently in his strong arms. She hugged him tightly, desperate for the reassurance.
Then they both heard it, the heavy tread of boots above them. Legs appeared on the ladder and Melissa jumped the last few feet. A bag was slung over her shoulder and she shifted it in front of her.
The tentative smile on her face brought about some hope. "The screens came back positive," she commenced without preamble. "The computer readouts say that the poison's composition is vaguely similar to that found in black widow bites. Not the exact match but close enough to for the computer to suggest an antivenin that might work. "
Hefting the bag before her, she dumped out several vials and syringes onto the sickbay station's countertop. "The computer suggested that a concoction of several antivenins might be most effective." Melissa was already filling the needle, flicked out the bubbles and squeezed the plunger until only the correct amount of fluid remained. Careful to recap it, she hurried to the doctor's side, sat down on his bed and injected the serum directly into the IV's port.
"Now what?" John asked, already knowing the answer but feeling the need to talk just the same.
"We wait," Melissa explained the obvious. "If this works we should see some improvement fairly soon." But she didn't bother to explain how long 'fairly' soon was. Instead she picked up his hand once more, the one with the IV needle and tubing taped to it, and lightly stroked the dark hairs of his forearm. She had no idea if he could feel it but wanted him to know she was nearby just in case.
Since there was nothing better to do at the moment, she pulled bloody gauze off of the thigh scratches, cleansed the wounds thoroughly, and applied three butterfly bandages over the worst one to join the edges together. It was the best she could do, considering that she had no experiencing suturing skin.
Satisfied that she had done all she could for him, she pulled a chair over, carefully interlaced her fingers through his, leaned back and closed her weary eyes.
Melissa's intent had been to rest a few moments. Dozing off had definitely not been on the agenda. She awoke to memories of his hand caressing her face, lips meeting with such desire that her body ached for more. With a sigh, she tried to focus on reality and realized the lower deck of the ship was dark. Light flooded down the ladder well, and she heard some murmuring from the deck above her. Someone had turned out the bright light of the cabin and replaced it with a small swing arm lamp attached to the edge of a shelf.
The water bowl and cloth had shifted position since the last time she saw them and she realized someone, most like Maureen or Judy, had come in and checked on Smith's condition. Briefly she was flooded by guilt. Mentally she slapped the thoughts away. Zachary had been in good hands. The Robinson's would never have left the doctor unattended, whether she had slept or remained alert. Feeling immense gratitude just the same, she sat up and immediately felt for a wrist pulse. This time it was steady and definitely stronger.
Careful not to wake him, Melissa gently placed the back of her fingers against the still heated skin of his cheek, grateful to see that the fever had lessened slightly. His skin, previously tanned from exposure to the suns of many worlds, was regaining some of its normal color. That was good news. He'd apparently survived the worst of it and bedrest was now the best medicine of all.
She checked the IV catheter site to make sure it was still open and felt his fingers curl around her hand. An odd mixture of anxiety and relief welled up within her.
What would be things be like when he was finally awake and back to his old self? She wondered. After all, he'd been poisoned down in the lake and probably not in his right mind by the time they stopped on the ledge.
'Don't forget the apology the first day you saw him here' she chastised herself. The sight of him groveling on his knees, begging for her forgiveness had been both painfully forthright and boyishly playful, so very typical of the man she had known and cared about years ago. Smith had distinguished himself as someone who was always so unpredictable and therefore never boring. Extravagantly flamboyant, hardnosed, ingenuous, haughty, compassionate. Utterly selfish in one breath and charitable the next. She'd seen it all during their time together. But there was one thing he had never done and that was lie to her. No matter how difficult any admission might have been, she had stuck by him and continued to believe in his own innate goodness.
Smith had consistently scoffed at that attitude. It wasn't him and he knew it. A fantasy…'a figment of her imagination', he'd insisted during one of their heart to heart discussions and yet… The barrier had been breached. The sharing of his deepest self became so natural with Melissa. It had been an incredibly purifying and liberating experience for both of them. And it was one of the reasons why she had forgiven him yet again.
Suddenly Smith gave a shuddering gasp and flailed out with his arms as if fighting off some horrifying demon.
Jumping to her feet Melissa grabbed both arms near the wrists to keep him from accidentally tearing out the IV. Soon, the combination of her touch and some soothing words, managed to get him to relax.
After checking his vital signs, she gently wiped the sweat from his face. Smith muttered something incoherent, forced one bloodshot eye open and saw her hovering nearby. "Don't leave me," he finally rasped, sounding very child-like.
Reaching for a cup she gave him a sip of cool water, and said with a slight grin, "Is that in the next hour? Or for good?"
A muscle tugged at one corner of his mouth, drawing it back into an enigmatic half smile. Before any comment could be made, the doctor's eyelids drooped, and he visibly fell limp again.
"DRAT!" she said aloud, frustrated by the lack of a good answer to her question, as well as his renewed unresponsiveness.
"Something wrong, dear?" Maureen poked her head around the corner. She came in and sat on the corner of the bed down by Smith's feet. "Want me to take over for a while? You can't do much more for him. Now it's just a waiting game."
Shaking her head solemnly she spoke in a low voice, "I would really rather stay, if you don't mind my being here so long."
"Don't be silly," Maureen said with a broad smile. "You are welcome anytime." With that comment, she glanced at Smith meaningfully as if she realized that any developing relationship between Melissa and Smith would only be of benefit to the both of them.
Despite herself, Melissa blushed. She knew exactly how Mrs. Robinson meant it and felt a flush of gratitude to these people who had cared enough to keep their stowaway around despite the stories she'd heard about him since the reunion. They were certainly exceptional people, the kind of humans who were probably the perfect representatives to colonize a new world.
"Thanks," she said, smiling with her eyes. "I guess, I'll make myself comfortable in here for a while."
She changed the dressing on his leg, noticing the redness and swelling around the wound had markedly decreased. It was also time to pull the IV and she did so in such a manner so as not to wake him.
Although she knew he couldn't hear her, Melissa said with a wry twist of her lips, "Good news Zach, you'll live to go on making everyone crazy, including me. And believe it or not, I wouldn't have it any other way!"
Kicking off her shoes, she leaned back in the chair by his bed until her rear end was practically falling off, propped her feet on the bed, and with folded hands on her stomach, allowed her mind to drift off to more pleasant memories. She was sleeping soundly in less than 5 minutes.
Nothing out of the ordinary interrupted her dreams, yet a sixth sense told her something had changed. With a start, she awoke and found herself covered. Not that she could see the blanket. All the lights were out in the Jupiter 2 except for some panel lights near the science station. The smooth material of the blanket covered her clear up to her chin.
Waiting until her eyes adjusted to the practically non-existent light, she looked for her patient. Even in the dimness she could see the bed held no person. In fact, someone had placed the blanket on her instead. Worried that Smith might have had a relapse and was wandering around outside and delirious, she threw off the cover and bolted toward the only bright light in the area, the lift well.
Not bothering to wait for it, she climbed the ladder to the main deck. At first glance, she took in several facts. The viewscreen revealed a sky of the deepest navy blue. On a world with bright moons, the color was not unusual. Instrument panels were switched on and pulsing at odd intervals to show that various scans were under way. Again, that wasn't atypical since her own commander never trusted this world enough to sleep without forcefields on.
And then she saw him, or just the top of his salt and pepper hair rather, in one of the command chairs. He was sitting so low in the chair that she thought he'd shrunk quite a few inches. Laughing at herself Melissa instantly figured out that he was just semi reclining in the large seat.
She hastily walked his way, with two prominent queries in mind. How was he doing physically and what was a mental state.
Pulling to a stop behind him, she placed one questioning hand on his shoulder and was rewarded with a warm smile.
Facing him finally, she asked, "Don't you think you should be downstairs resting?"
When he spoke, his voice was soft. "I was contemplating that very action when you arrived. But perhaps we should stay here for a while."
The way he used the word 'we' sent delicious little shivers hurtling up her spine. "Come on Zachary, you were just subjected to a great deal of trauma. I would really be upset with myself if you suffered a relapse."
"My dear, your doctoring skills were unsurpassed and this patient is well on his way to a full recovery." In a smooth gliding motion, he slid his fingers around her wrist and pulled her closer.
"Perhaps, but not technically recovered just yet. Back to bed with you!" She sharply waved a finger toward the lift.
Smith shot her a suggestive smile in response. 'Not alone' the look seemed to say. Rather than voicing it, however, he stood up with difficulty and intertwined his fingers through hers. "Come outside with me, the night sky is exceptionally beautiful."
Melissa sighed through pursed lips and studied his unfathomable expression. "It's late!" she protested half heartedly, though his touch was stirring up a powerful, heated feeling in the pit of her stomach.
"1 AM" confirmed Smith with a slight nod. "Regardless of the late hour, I suddenly feel the urge to stretch my legs and would certainly rather do so in the company of a lovely young woman than suffer the company of that blasted bodyguard." With a slight jerk of his chin toward the airlock, he indicated the Robot, standing silent and alert. "I presume the Professor posted that rolling rattletrap by the exit to keep his 'sensors' on me."
"You've cut me to the quick," the Robot stated rather indignantly, waving a claw toward his heart as if he'd just been stabbed. "The Professor did no such thing."
Smith stiffened his back with some obvious effort and spoke more loudly than before. "Liar! You perfidious popinjay…don't deny it!"
"I do not deny the order…only that the Professor ordered it. It was in fact," the Robot swiveled his torso to face them squarely. "the Major's doing."
"Figures," grumbled the doctor. "that man is always looking to make my life miserable."
Laughing at the renewed fervor in his tone, Melissa suggested, "Zachary, maybe we should surrender while we are ahead."
"Surrender? I? BAH!" he sputtered indignantly, sounding very much like the man she used to work with. "That word is not part of my vocabulary." With Melissa still in tow, Doctor Smith pulled her toward the airlock. He tried hard not to limp but wound up hobbling just the same. The Robot only made a half-hearted attempt to block him but Smith brushed on by, pulling her along behind him.
Once he got to the bottom of the ramp, he twisted slightly, jabbed a finger back at the silver sentinel trailing after them and said, "I am in good hands you … you…"
"You lascivious lothario," the robot stated, extending a claw to point at the Doctor and erupted in a grating, coughing sound that clearly was intended to be laughter."
"How dare you!" Smith growled, puffing out his chest.
Melissa's chuckles caught his attention and he grinned sheepishly.
"Begone, boobie!" he commanded imperiously. "We have no need for a peeping tom. The forcefield is still active and we have no plans of going beyond the safety perimeter."
The Robot's bubble clunked down in agonized defeat. "How tragic," he muttered loud enough for them hear as he rolled away, "that such a devoted, unselfish, understanding servant such as myself should be treated like a mere machine."
Smith opened his mouth to say something, then choked on a fountain of laughter which ultimately left him speechless. It had been such a long time since she'd seen him laugh like that and the infectious nature of it had her joining him. Not wanting to offend the Robot, she worked hard at stifling the sound but only barely succeeded.
"You are bad!" she advised him.
"No, my dear girl, I am actually quite good as I'm sure you have already discovered." And since he still had one of her hands clasped tightly in his, Smith was able to pull her closer.
With a tight grin he probably couldn't see, she stated, "Yeah, good and vain!" but she allowed him to close the gap between them.
Surprisingly, Smith chuckled. The distance remaining seemed charged with electricity that beckoned her. Yet, for some reason she hung back.
Sighing contentedly, the doctor threw his head back and looked up into the dark, star filled night. "Look," he suggested softly. His pointing finger was barely visible in the reflected glow of the upper deck viewscreen.
When she followed his lead…she took in the breathtaking expanse of the universe laid out before them. Huge clusters of stars boldly glittered in the canopy above them. The lack of pollution lent a crystal clarity to the tiny bright jewels suspended in the velvety blackness. Two glowing moons were waxing large above them, one enormous, gray mixed with burnt umber in color and heavily cratered. The second loomed not far from the first, oddly speckled in a pinks and greens.
Melissa had certainly seen those moons before, and had wondered what geological makeup of the rocks there could have caused the various colorations but tonight they were simply something to be appreciated.
"What an indescribably beautiful sight," he sighed blissfully. "How pathetic that I should have been immune to such a glorious vista until this night!"
Inclined to agree fully, she was even more aware of the way his thumb was lightly caressing her skin, sending little embers of delight coursing up her arm.
"Yes, it is certainly incredible. Isn't it ironic that sometimes we have to lose everything before we can fully appreciate the other things we would never have noticed otherwise?"
This time, Smith turned to face her, and with a shuddered sigh, he pulled her tightly into an embrace. He stood there, enveloping her with both arms, her head resting on his chest. She could hear every beat of his heart and the primal rhythm of it spoke meaningfully to her.
Placing a knuckle under her chin, he brought her lips within reach. Smith placed a single, brief and tender kiss there, before encircling both arms around her once more.
"Lissa? Things will never be the same again, you know that, don't you?" he asked, barely above a whisper. He tried to hide the insecurity in his tone but failed at the attempt. "I…I'm not an easy person to be around…"
"Tell me something I don't know," she responded seriously, then began to rub the tense muscles of his back.
Smith groaned with pleasure when she pressed her body fully against his.
"Alright, how about this to start. I almost lost my life yesterday and for the first time in my entire existence I don't regret having put someone else's best interest before my own. For the first time since being trapped aboard the Jupiter 2, I can honestly admit that I couldn't care less if I never get back to Earth. There's probably nothing back there for me anyway. "
After a brief contemplative moment, Smith finally continued, "Your direction is out there," and he nodded up toward the stars, "and… and I want to be with you. The only thing I honestly regret is not being able to court you properly."
Nuzzling the material of his shirt, Melissa felt a huge lump forming in her throat. "I left Earth to get away from the material things, Zachary. You needn't buy me things. I only want your trust, respect and love."
"They are yours for the asking, my dear," he murmured into her soft curls. "For now and always…if…you'll have me."
Melissa's only answer was to meet his satiny lips with a caress that more than adequately sealed the promise to be his.
Author's note: This story was created for a friend , who asked me one day if I'd create a story in romance novel style, with Smith as the lead. I thought it would be fun and wrote it for her, which is one reason why this is so different from my other LIS stories. You, the reader, probably think it's weird but now you know there was a method to my creative madness. Susie became a good friend of mine and often encouraged me to write. She was in her mid-30's when she developed colon cancer (about a year after my writing this story in 2004) and passed away June 2006. She is sorely missed!