On a bad day after a mission, feeling ill from lack of rest and with a gritty taste in my mouth from eating the shit they call 'emergency rations' (which probably is shit - I don't avoid the cafeteria for no reason), it doesn't get much worse, or so you'd think.

And oh how wrong you would be.

Craving a shower, a hot drink, some decent food, which I'd no doubt have to cook myself, and maybe some pleasant company, I got into Garden with the view that now was a great time to slink off and leave the pack of idiots that were supposedly my team on the mission. Of course, no, I got ambushed by the doc and her pack of infirmary goons.

"What's going on?" I asked her.

It turns out that I should probably have gone with my second instinct, turned around and walked right back out of Garden again. Ah, but there's no rest for the wicked. With my luck on that day, Kadowaki would have followed me anyway.

I was carrying my jacket - it was too encrusted with various substances for me to wear - which turned out to be the perfect opportunity for Kadowaki to lunge at me with a needle. She grabbed my arm, held me still (she has a strong grip when she wants to, and I wouldn't hit a woman, even a meddling doctor) and jabbed the thing into me, injecting me with whatever.

Fuck, but I hate the feeling of fluid sliding into me like that.

"Just a precaution," she explained cheerfully, releasing me as I cursed and backed away from her. "There's a bug going round Garden, it has a lot of people in bed. Can't take the risk of getting you landed in bed after surviving your mission okay."

I didn't bother to contradict her and point out that no, I wasn't very okay, but she was right. I really felt like shit, hated it, and had no wish to compound the problem with an illness and time spent bedridden in the infirmary.

By now I was absolutely sure that my bad day couldn't get any worse.

Never think that. It's just asking for trouble. Never tempt fate.

"Where's Quistis?" I asked, carefully stepping around and through the gathered medics who were immunising my squad.

I ended up in the infirmary after all, after a hasty shower, taking the coffee with me. I spent the afternoon sitting with my bedridden girlfriend, so at least I wasn't in one of those beds (that would have been even worse), playing nurse. Or so Squall said, teasingly, when he came in to hear my report on the mission.

Quistis is even bossier when she's sick; she had me fluffing her pillows, lifting her up a bit to let her puke, sponging her forehead, giving her the odd glass of water.

I didn't mind so much. I hadn't seen her so pale and sick in a while, and even though she was bossy and almost intolerable, it was somehow a good idea to stay.

"You look paler than the fucking sheets," I told her pleasantly as I pushed her back down in the bed after letting her drink.

"Thanks," she said, dryly, closing her eyes and resting while she could.

It was a bad day for both of us, I suppose.