Instruments whirred in the medbay, the soft scent of disinfectant barely noticeable on the air, as though it had been used many hours before. A precaution for his senstitive lungs, he imagined. Judging by the air, she also ran a dehumidifier before every visit, cautions he appreciated more for the care they showed than the affect they had on his body. Karin was so used to being unseen that she hadn't yet realized he noticed these small touches, but he had.

"Your blood tests look normal," she said as she moved around the examination table. "Your lung function is holding steady. Staying active seems to be helping a great deal." She paused and looked up from the datapad. "Of course, I would be remiss if I didn't mention how much better the results would be with a lung transplant."

"Better for my body's lifespan, perhaps," he agreed as he lifted himself off the bed with the kind of grace that made healthy people jealous. "But it would not cure me of the disease."

She leaned heavily against the counter nearby as she watched. A note that wasn't quite hopeful crept into her voice. "It might make your time within your body a little easier."

"Thank you for the concern," he said as he pulled the collar of his coat around him with a flourish. "But I have been disconnected for much of my life already." He stepped nearer to her, peering into the features she had trained not to show any disappointment, but he could still read it in the lines of her face.

"I am ready to be whole once more," he explained gently.

She breathed deeply at his decision, resolved but not satisfied. "And then I suppose the rest of us will be disconnected," she admitted honestly. "Though we humans call it heartsick."

He lifted a hand to brush his scaled fingers across her smoother cheek. "I am confident the hearts I leave behind are in the hands of a very capable healer."

A smile threatened in her features like a sun peeking around a horizon. She had long since passed the age where pretty gestures overrode unhappy sentiment, but she appreciated it just the same.

"And who will heal the healer?" she asked.

He dropped his eyes, the second set of eyelids blinking. "Time," he said simply, and for a brief moment his shoulders seemed to sit heavier on his form. "It is an advantage humans have that drell do not."

She lowered her own gaze and, noticing the zipper of his uniform wasn't laying right, reached to straighten it.

"I can't help but feel as if I am failing you somehow," she admitted as she flattened the zipper's flapper. "I've never lost a soldier to anything so… slow before." She lifted her chin. "Usually I work in trauma situations. I'm not used to inaction." She hesitated thoughtfully and then shrugged. "Or failing, I suppose."

His brow ridges twitched uncomfortably. "It is not your responsibility to spare my life, siha. It is my responsibility to make the most of the time I am given." He lowered his chin in an attempt to catch her gaze. "You have helped more with that than anyone."

His eyes sparkled, then, a subtle hint of facetiousness that was only visible to those who knew how rigidly he held himself in any other situation. You had to know him even better to hear the quiet note of mischief in his graveled voice when he added, "In more ways than one."

She glanced up at him, sweeping his features curiously, but upon recognizing the expression she laughed bashfully and turned to hide her blush in the palm of his hand. His lips curled slightly on one side. She was beyond flattery, but she was not above everything that was girlish and blithe.

"I thought a siha was a 'tenacious protector?'" she replied to regain control of the conversation, eyes still dancing as she looked up at him. "I'm just an old woman; I've only ever been on the sidelines of war."

His expression softened. "Protectors come in many forms, siha. To face inevitability and still fight takes more courage than a battle for victory." His voice was softer as he repeated, "You are the very definition of tenacious."

This time when his expression softened it was such a perfect blend of mischief and fondness that it seemed to lift his entire face. He dropped his stare to her mouth and brushed his thumb lightly along the fullness of her bottom lip.

"In… more ways than one."

This time, the smile that teased at Chakwas' mouth was not accompanied by a bashful laugh, but something quietly bolder.