A Well Meaning Gesture, Showdown at the White Room

Bah, not in my house. Too many cats - -

I do not in any way claim to be associated with the creation of the Gundam Seed series, characters, or animation designs. In fact, I DISCLAIM it! Ha ha..get it…disclaim…it's a disclaimer…bows out with what little dignity she has left

After a good nights rest in her newly acquired bedroom, Tamuril felt ready to face Yzak again, she knew she couldn't avoid him forever. She rubbed her hand across her eyes, giving a sharp yelp when she realized she had used the one in a splint. She rubbed it idly trying to soothe it, but decided it would go away better on its own. Looking down at herself, alternating glances between the hospital gown and her wrist, she decided she would simply throw on a pair of jeans and a sweater to avoid having to pull anything over her head. As she lay on her bed, wriggling into jeans with one hand to pull and fasten with, she went over a plan of action in her head. I'm sorry simply wasn't going to cut it with him. As long as her ship was immobilized as it was, she decided that she should be the one to care for Yzak. Doubtless, she knew nothing of how exactly to make it better, but every good pilot knew first aid, bandaging, cleaning, feeding another injured person, of course this was possible. She had smaller hands then the medical staff, and this way they could pertain to more pressing problems around the ward. Slipping a lightly loose black cable-net sweater over her slim shoulders and shook her hair free of its bun, braiding it with many a wince as she exercised her paining hand. With a determined chin she stepped out of her room/closet and made her way down to the hospital section of the ship, having to float backward at some instances to keep a hold on the guide bar. During one of these trips, she felt a hand about her waist which whipped her around and began waltzing around with her in the air. Looking up, a light scowl pierced her already harried features. 'Ah, of course, the inevitable run-in with Dearka,' was the first thought that came to mind. He frowned, giving her a half mock, half serious look. "Not happy to see me, Little Princess?" At once, her harsh expression softened. "No Dearka, it isn't that at all." "Then what, you silly little ballerina you?" 'Ballerina? What on- Oh…the dancing.' "I was on my way to see Yzak…" At once, the blonde haired boys expression brightened. "Aha, a trip to Mr. Grumpy-pants! I will, of course, have to accompany you to make sure he doesn't do anything lascivious to you, my dearest young lady." With a wink, he cheerfully took her free hand and began skipping down along the corridor, looking amazingly silly, as each skip took him ¼ the way down the hall, pulling her along awkwardly. As they entered the hospital wing, Dearka drew a dramatic hand across her tanned forehead, wrinkles springing from nowhere with play-acted despair.

"Oh, Yzak, my fallen comrade-at-arms, I have brought with me a fair maiden, to ease your sorrows." Yzak merely stared at the wall, his huddled, but dignified back ignoring them in every way. A stately Athrun chose this moment to appear in the doorway, framed on one side by the image of a frazzled Nicol, wringing his hands, hair plastered to his forehead, sweating with obvious anxiety. "Dearka, you're wanted in the Docking Bay, something about a piano being stuck in a doorway…" Athrun winked at Tamuril, his nonchalance a complete act. Although he did not wish for the piano to be damaged, or to be blocking the hallway as it was now, he found the entire ordeal rather humorous. Off the there went, Nicol shouting about how it wasn't just stuck, but wedged firmly between the Docking Bay and the hallway that led to the dining room. Tamuril was left alone, staring at the forlorn shape of Yzak. She knew the anger and resentment she would face, but was prepared to stand her ground. While in the middle of drawing up a chair, she changed her mind. Chairs could be thrown. Yzak's restraints had been removed after a night on painkillers and some light tranquilizers. Tamuril took a seat on the edge of Yzak's hospital bed, about halfway down his body.

"The repairs on your Gundam are going well…" She said, hoping to entice him into some sort of conversation through something she hoped they were both passionate about. It seemed a likely middle ground. "Why exactly should I care, being holed up as I am here." He said softly, despair and menace only thinly veiled in his voice. There, he had her caught. Making sure that the door was tightly shut, and locked, she began to cry. Yesterday, she had made a very conscious effort to hide the sound of her distress. Now, she did not make any such move. She wanted him to see how she felt about this, that her feelings were genuine, her deep regret sincere. Yzak turned around and stared at her coldly, watching hot tears spill own her face until she covered it with her hands, drips coming through the crack between her two middle fingers to land on his sheets. After a long period of this, she sniffed and wiped her face with one of her sleeves. "If you are done…could you get me a glass of water," he stated, rather than asked her, staring blandly at the ceiling. She nodded and quickly did so, remembering not to add ice so they would fall on him when he tilted the glass. "Can you sit up, Yzak?" she asked softly, wondering if this was a sore spot for conversation. It was, "No…" She simply nodded, swallowing a gulp and taking the glass over to him, pulling up a chair this time after setting the glass on the tray beside his bed. He looked over at her, not questioning her change in seating arrangements, and narrowed his eye with disgust. "If I try and drink a glass that full, it will surely soak me. Half full or less." Quickly she got up and dumped half of it, wiping up the few drops that escaped down the side of the glass and brought it back to him, holding it out for him to take, which he did. She watched awkwardly as he finished his glass, taking his time with it so as not to spill, or perhaps he just really wasn't that thirsty.

"Why are you still here?" He asked curtly, handing her the glass to put it back on his little table, which he couldn't reach at his angle. She shifted nervously in her seat, the glass clinking as her shaking hand placed it on the metal tray. "Because I want to help you get better again. My Gundam is damaged, like yours, and will require new parts. These will take a while to arrive, so…I want to become your nurse. I-I'll always be at your beck and call, anything you want to make you feel better. I understand all this is my fault, and I am prepared to do my part to try and make it right, although I understand if you don't want me to…" "You will not tend to me, go away." Instead of slouching out dejected, as he had assume she would do, Tamuril stood up, prepared for confrontation with her hands balled into fists, biting down on a small yelp from the pain in her hand she relaxed her grip. "I will be your nurse, and you will get better. There is nothing else I can do for you, so I will do this." Yzak didn't reply to this, instead he said. "Go away, I'm tired." So she did, after a reverent bow which she had to almost force herself to complete. Not completely dissatisfied with the results, as he had not actually given her an order not to go anywhere near him, she set off on a course to the mess hall, giving a curious glance to a huddled group of muttering people staring at a strange-angled grand piano blocking off one of the less used corridors. Tossing her braid over her shoulder, she prepared for the onslaught of dinner with "the boys".

So long since my last update! Please forgive this lowly one TT

Tibby