4 – Patience

Though the silver-colored handles on the outside of the clinic doors had been made hot by the midday sun, the air inside was cool and gently moving. Despite the prehistoric landscape and the humid jungles around them, it perpetually managed to smell like a doctor's office- something he had come to appreciate over the years. Upon entering, Jim ventured through the front entryway in search of a very special lady. Only a few nurses and visitors passed by him as he went, so he guessed it had not been an overly busy day.

When he finally located his wife, she had her back turned to him and appeared to be talking with another doctor or nurse over a holographic display panel. As they held it up to see better and comment back and forth, Jim noted it appeared to be internal scans of the bones and muscles of someone's leg. It was probably that MacManus boy again, he mused, he always seemed to have a broken leg or a broken arm.

So although the clinic was relatively empty, she appeared busy at the moment. But that was alright, he thought as he looked around, he could be patient- he could wait.

"Excuse me," he said quietly to grab one of the passing attendants, his gaze regularly switching back to his wife. "When Doctor Shannon is available, could you tell her she has a patient waiting in this bed?" he asked politely, touching the curtain that enclosed said bed.

"Of course Mr. Shannon," she replied, continuing on her way.

He paused for a short moment, wondering how this person, who he certainly didn't know on a first-name basis, should known who he was, but then stopped in that pursuit upon remembering that he was a frequent visitor to the clinic and that his wife, unlike himself, was well-known.

Elisabeth still had not turned around, so he silently drew back a section of the curtain and stepped through gingerly, drawing it back behind him. Since the bed was empty, the curtained-off room was somewhat dark. He took another moment to look around again as another nurse's blurry outline passed on the other side of the curtain before hopping up onto the bed and reclining into it. He nestled himself down and folded his hands over his chest, always surprised at just how comfortable these beds actually are when you are not bleeding or breaking out in a rash from giant heismess itching leaves. As an afterthought, he repositioned one of his arms so that his eyes were covered by the bend in his arm.

He lay there for a short while, listening to the sound of his own breathing as the cool plastic began to filter its temperature through the back of his shirt. After waiting there in the dark for those few moments, just as he was about to look up, he heard the curtain being pulled away.

"Jim?" he heard the voice of his wife say.

He did not respond or change his position, only continued to lie there with his arm over his eyes as her footsteps suggested she had drawn closer.

"Jim, what's wrong?" she asked, now standing over him, only mildly concerned at this point.

"Uhh," he groaned, tilting his head slightly under his arm.

"Jim?" she repeated, not encouraged by his response.

"Elisabeth?" he croaked weakly.

"I'm here," she said, gently trying to move his arm off his eyes. "I'm here, what's wrong? Talk to me."

"Elisabeth," he groaned slowly, letting his arm fall as his head lolled to one side. He kept his eyes closed.

"Jim?" she repeated.

"When are you gonna get off woooork?" he said at last, his words slurring for emphasis, and finally let the smile he had been holding back slip out.

She smiled too although he didn't see it, relieved that nothing was seriously wrong, but still slightly distressed at his childish prank. "Why would you do that?" she protested. "I thought you were hurt."

"I was bored," he said, finally opening his eyes to see her relieved frustration, still drawing his words out a bit.

"Did you just come in here to scare me?" she asked.

"Yeah," he admitted, stroking her hand. "Were you busy?"

"No," she told him.

"The MacManus boy?" he inquired.

"Who else?" she agreed.

"Mm," he sighed, "I'm glad our kids aren't self-destructive."

A/N: A short chapter; what do you think should happen next?