A/N: Since I can't seem to make ff.net show italics, I'm going to put the words that should be in italics between two slashes.
~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Oh, fuck!"
Beka awoke to a searing, throbbing agony unlike anything she'd ever known before, and, consequently, she cursed like she didn't often curse. Someone had bound her right arm above the elbow in clean gauze and white tape, but the soft fabric was clean no longer. As she struggled to raise herself into a sitting position, she became aware of another presence in the room. Before she could positively identify it, the dark mass glided toward her, and quite suddenly, she found she was being deeply kissed by none other than Tyr Anasazi. She thought dryly that there wasn't much she could really do, besides sit there and possibly /consider/ kissing him back, with a piece of her piloting consoled nestled in her bicep. Very soon, thoughts of injury (and everything else) fled. His hands lay on either side of her face, determinedly holding her in place. It occurred to her to wonder, in a very scattered sort of manner, what exactly he planned on doing here on this uncomfortable mattress in Medical, but his hands never left her face.
After a minute, or five, or five hundred, he slowly loosed his gentle hold. While Beka was recovering from this highly unanticipated display of affection, he arranged himself so he was sitting on the edge of the bed, turned toward her. As tempting as it was to insert a light witticism into the silence, Beka bit her tongue. She definitely wanted to hear whatever Tyr had to say.
For a moment, he simply sat and ran his eyes over her face, over her wound, down her body, and back to her quiet gaze. He idly played with the fingers of her right hand as he seemed to search for some fitting words. It began to unnerve Beka, this very un-Nietzschean and un-Tyr behavior, and she wondered if she shouldn't say something after all.
"I cannot properly express my joy at seeing you alive, Rebecca." Beka shivered at the caress of his mellifluous baritone. "A serious gash even such as that should not have threatened your survival, but you were already ill, and you likely worsened it by piloting so soon after you received it." She noticed--with the tiniest hint of amusement--that he did not suggest that she had been wrong to pilot in spite of her injury. Inexpressibly glad to see her he might be, and afraid she had done herself no favors by piloting with her slashed arm he might have been, but he knew very well that if she hadn't, they certainly wouldn't be sitting here right here and chatting merrily. She also noted that he didn't speak of a hope that he had not offended her and almost smiled.
Unable to think of a reply to his first words, she carefully probed the darkest crimson patch of the gauze and winced. "Is there still a hunk of Maru in here?"
Tyr didn't try to stop her from examining the wound. Trance would, were she present, but he knew the inexplicable fascination people have with their hurts, poking and picking at them repeatedly when logic and experience told them it would cause pain. He supposed it was natural, after all, that one should wish to assess one's own damage. "Trance ran ahead of me while I was carrying you and prepared this… Medical Bay of yours for surgery." By his tone and the flash of his eyes around the room, he obviously didn't think much of it. "She refused to allow me to watch her operation, but I did wrap your arm when she finished." He hesitated. "She is… an interesting character, your Trance Gemini. A more skilled healer I can't say I've ever met."
Outside, voices raised in conversation could be heard, and a moment later, Harper burst through the door. He hurried to Beka's side, and to the surprise of all present, Tyr stood up without a word. He stepped back a short distance, so the engineer could have a private conversation with his captain.
But, like Tyr, Harper wasn't finding words enough to express himself. He squeezed Beka in a tight embrace and only let go when Beka told him softly that he was squishing her arm. Wide-eyed, he released her hastily and took up Tyr's position beside her. "Dammit, boss, you can't do that to us! First Trance, now you, playing the ever-popular Let's Make the Engineer Think We've Bought the Farm So We Can Ditch Him at the Next Drift." His voice rose and fell jerkily, and Beka eased herself forward and gingerly set her arm across his shoulders.
Beka responded as they leaned against one another. "Come on, Harper," she said affectionately, "you know I'm not gonna let you go 'til you acknowledge the Maru as the most perfect ship in existence. Shadowy, mysterious, and highly-overpaid assassins are no match for a Valentine trying to prove a point."
From a few feet away, Tyr rumbled that Harper had clung to her bedside like a starving leech since she was brought into Medical. He nodded. "Well, except when the computer announced that we had thirty seconds until total destruction, and I had to convince the engine room /not/ to kill us all in a fiery inferno." Beka couldn't believe that he hadn't mentioned his genius once as he summarized the emergency in an uncharacteristically brief fashion. "I only stepped out a minute ago cos there was something Trance /had/ to tell me in private, but I don't know…" He looked up at Tyr and studied the larger man for a moment. "We both were here," he admitted.
While the constant vigilance of her crewmates warmed Beka… "I almost hate to say this, guys, but um, was anyone on the look-out for our new friends? Was anyone on the look-out for /anything/? She truly did appreciate their probably sleepless watch--and she did hate to bring up this matter during such a moment--but she didn't like the thought of her ship drifting aimlessly and unguarded through space.
Tyr came the closest to smiling he had so far today. Beka would wager he hadn't forgotten those demands on his survival. "Trance /did/ dismiss us from time to time. Forcefully, in Harper's case. She couched the order by insisting it was necessary she check your wound in a strictly sterile environment." Another expressive look around Med declared that he hadn't believed a word of it. He chuckled very quietly and under his breath muttered, "It seems that your Trance made a very lucrative living as an able puppet master at one time."
Beka and Harper exchanged glances, then looked questioningly at Tyr. "Uh, care to share with the class?
A bright voice issued from the doorway, asking what they were going to share. Harper turned. "Sorry, my magnificent miracle-worker, no show-and-tell here. I think the strain's finally gotten to be too much for Tyr, and he cracked--he just started talking to himself."
He twirled his index finger in a small circle near his forehead. Beka laughed, and Tyr shot him a very dry, pot-calling-the-kettle-black sort of glance. It was a sudden, brief moment of camaraderie that touched Beka strangely.
Trance met Beka's eyes, and they shared a tiny smile at the scene. She spoke up after a minute, telling Harper and Tyr that it was that time again; she needed to check Beka's injury, and they had to check the ship's. She hustled out a reluctant Harper, and Tyr turned around to meet Beka's eyes before he left. Trance and Beka chatted lightly during her examination, and Trance announced that she was healing wonderfully.
In the same upbeat tone, Trance informed Beka that she would prepare to remove the last bit of debris in just a moment, as soon as she could ready her equipment. Beke blanched. "You say it so casually, Trance. 'You're doing great, great progress, back on your feet in no time… and I'm about to perform major and quite /painful/ surgery on you. Why didn't you remove all of it earlier?"
Trance bustled around, clinking shiny instruments and murmuring to herself. "Oh, well I didn't want to take all of it out at once. It seems kinda funny, but that piece of plastic was actually staunching the blood a little. I was afraid that if I took it all out at once, it would start spurting and…" She turned her head and caught Beka's queasy expression.
"Uh, thanks Trance. Coulda spared me the visuals." The purple pixie just smiled and continued to flit around, arranging her silver and very sharp surgical tools. Beka caught a whiff of… herbal something, and Trance disappeared into a shadowy corner, then brought out a steaming cup of a mysterious dark liquid. Beka raised an eyebrow but took the cup and inhaled deeply. Her unofficial chief medical officer always gave her this or another tea before an operation, knowing well her captain's aversion to more traditional medicine.
The fragrant concoction barely touched Beka's lips before she drifted into a deep, painless sleep.
~~~~~~~
And the first line of the next bit!
/I've been waking up from drugged sleeps a lot recently/, Beka observed as she awoke from yet another unnatural--though healing, she had to admit--rest.
~*~*~*~*~*~*
"Oh, fuck!"
Beka awoke to a searing, throbbing agony unlike anything she'd ever known before, and, consequently, she cursed like she didn't often curse. Someone had bound her right arm above the elbow in clean gauze and white tape, but the soft fabric was clean no longer. As she struggled to raise herself into a sitting position, she became aware of another presence in the room. Before she could positively identify it, the dark mass glided toward her, and quite suddenly, she found she was being deeply kissed by none other than Tyr Anasazi. She thought dryly that there wasn't much she could really do, besides sit there and possibly /consider/ kissing him back, with a piece of her piloting consoled nestled in her bicep. Very soon, thoughts of injury (and everything else) fled. His hands lay on either side of her face, determinedly holding her in place. It occurred to her to wonder, in a very scattered sort of manner, what exactly he planned on doing here on this uncomfortable mattress in Medical, but his hands never left her face.
After a minute, or five, or five hundred, he slowly loosed his gentle hold. While Beka was recovering from this highly unanticipated display of affection, he arranged himself so he was sitting on the edge of the bed, turned toward her. As tempting as it was to insert a light witticism into the silence, Beka bit her tongue. She definitely wanted to hear whatever Tyr had to say.
For a moment, he simply sat and ran his eyes over her face, over her wound, down her body, and back to her quiet gaze. He idly played with the fingers of her right hand as he seemed to search for some fitting words. It began to unnerve Beka, this very un-Nietzschean and un-Tyr behavior, and she wondered if she shouldn't say something after all.
"I cannot properly express my joy at seeing you alive, Rebecca." Beka shivered at the caress of his mellifluous baritone. "A serious gash even such as that should not have threatened your survival, but you were already ill, and you likely worsened it by piloting so soon after you received it." She noticed--with the tiniest hint of amusement--that he did not suggest that she had been wrong to pilot in spite of her injury. Inexpressibly glad to see her he might be, and afraid she had done herself no favors by piloting with her slashed arm he might have been, but he knew very well that if she hadn't, they certainly wouldn't be sitting here right here and chatting merrily. She also noted that he didn't speak of a hope that he had not offended her and almost smiled.
Unable to think of a reply to his first words, she carefully probed the darkest crimson patch of the gauze and winced. "Is there still a hunk of Maru in here?"
Tyr didn't try to stop her from examining the wound. Trance would, were she present, but he knew the inexplicable fascination people have with their hurts, poking and picking at them repeatedly when logic and experience told them it would cause pain. He supposed it was natural, after all, that one should wish to assess one's own damage. "Trance ran ahead of me while I was carrying you and prepared this… Medical Bay of yours for surgery." By his tone and the flash of his eyes around the room, he obviously didn't think much of it. "She refused to allow me to watch her operation, but I did wrap your arm when she finished." He hesitated. "She is… an interesting character, your Trance Gemini. A more skilled healer I can't say I've ever met."
Outside, voices raised in conversation could be heard, and a moment later, Harper burst through the door. He hurried to Beka's side, and to the surprise of all present, Tyr stood up without a word. He stepped back a short distance, so the engineer could have a private conversation with his captain.
But, like Tyr, Harper wasn't finding words enough to express himself. He squeezed Beka in a tight embrace and only let go when Beka told him softly that he was squishing her arm. Wide-eyed, he released her hastily and took up Tyr's position beside her. "Dammit, boss, you can't do that to us! First Trance, now you, playing the ever-popular Let's Make the Engineer Think We've Bought the Farm So We Can Ditch Him at the Next Drift." His voice rose and fell jerkily, and Beka eased herself forward and gingerly set her arm across his shoulders.
Beka responded as they leaned against one another. "Come on, Harper," she said affectionately, "you know I'm not gonna let you go 'til you acknowledge the Maru as the most perfect ship in existence. Shadowy, mysterious, and highly-overpaid assassins are no match for a Valentine trying to prove a point."
From a few feet away, Tyr rumbled that Harper had clung to her bedside like a starving leech since she was brought into Medical. He nodded. "Well, except when the computer announced that we had thirty seconds until total destruction, and I had to convince the engine room /not/ to kill us all in a fiery inferno." Beka couldn't believe that he hadn't mentioned his genius once as he summarized the emergency in an uncharacteristically brief fashion. "I only stepped out a minute ago cos there was something Trance /had/ to tell me in private, but I don't know…" He looked up at Tyr and studied the larger man for a moment. "We both were here," he admitted.
While the constant vigilance of her crewmates warmed Beka… "I almost hate to say this, guys, but um, was anyone on the look-out for our new friends? Was anyone on the look-out for /anything/? She truly did appreciate their probably sleepless watch--and she did hate to bring up this matter during such a moment--but she didn't like the thought of her ship drifting aimlessly and unguarded through space.
Tyr came the closest to smiling he had so far today. Beka would wager he hadn't forgotten those demands on his survival. "Trance /did/ dismiss us from time to time. Forcefully, in Harper's case. She couched the order by insisting it was necessary she check your wound in a strictly sterile environment." Another expressive look around Med declared that he hadn't believed a word of it. He chuckled very quietly and under his breath muttered, "It seems that your Trance made a very lucrative living as an able puppet master at one time."
Beka and Harper exchanged glances, then looked questioningly at Tyr. "Uh, care to share with the class?
A bright voice issued from the doorway, asking what they were going to share. Harper turned. "Sorry, my magnificent miracle-worker, no show-and-tell here. I think the strain's finally gotten to be too much for Tyr, and he cracked--he just started talking to himself."
He twirled his index finger in a small circle near his forehead. Beka laughed, and Tyr shot him a very dry, pot-calling-the-kettle-black sort of glance. It was a sudden, brief moment of camaraderie that touched Beka strangely.
Trance met Beka's eyes, and they shared a tiny smile at the scene. She spoke up after a minute, telling Harper and Tyr that it was that time again; she needed to check Beka's injury, and they had to check the ship's. She hustled out a reluctant Harper, and Tyr turned around to meet Beka's eyes before he left. Trance and Beka chatted lightly during her examination, and Trance announced that she was healing wonderfully.
In the same upbeat tone, Trance informed Beka that she would prepare to remove the last bit of debris in just a moment, as soon as she could ready her equipment. Beke blanched. "You say it so casually, Trance. 'You're doing great, great progress, back on your feet in no time… and I'm about to perform major and quite /painful/ surgery on you. Why didn't you remove all of it earlier?"
Trance bustled around, clinking shiny instruments and murmuring to herself. "Oh, well I didn't want to take all of it out at once. It seems kinda funny, but that piece of plastic was actually staunching the blood a little. I was afraid that if I took it all out at once, it would start spurting and…" She turned her head and caught Beka's queasy expression.
"Uh, thanks Trance. Coulda spared me the visuals." The purple pixie just smiled and continued to flit around, arranging her silver and very sharp surgical tools. Beka caught a whiff of… herbal something, and Trance disappeared into a shadowy corner, then brought out a steaming cup of a mysterious dark liquid. Beka raised an eyebrow but took the cup and inhaled deeply. Her unofficial chief medical officer always gave her this or another tea before an operation, knowing well her captain's aversion to more traditional medicine.
The fragrant concoction barely touched Beka's lips before she drifted into a deep, painless sleep.
~~~~~~~
And the first line of the next bit!
/I've been waking up from drugged sleeps a lot recently/, Beka observed as she awoke from yet another unnatural--though healing, she had to admit--rest.