'This is going to bring me clarity,

This'll to take the heart right out of me.'

She Is, The Fray

Chapter Three:

Iodine and Chocolate

Damn, damn, damn, he cursed aloud and to himself as he clutched his hand. He peered at his index finger and the large splinter embedded in his flesh. Damn that stupid wood sculpture. He'd tried photography, painting, music, and now even wood sculpting. He couldn't do anything. The chemicals in the photolab had knocked him out cold, he'd ended up painting more of himself than the canvas, Quatre's piano was still out-of-commission from Duo's mis-fated run in with it... and now, he'd managed to spear himself with a piece of wood sculputre.

Throwing the wood across the room where it bounced harmlessly off the bookcase before hitting the floor and shattering into multiple peices, he stormed out the door to go find something- anything- to yank this damn splinter out. And knowing him- and his current state of mind, he'd have to cut half his finger off just to get ahold of the stupid thing.

Cara jerked her head up when he stormed into the kitchen. She had the makings of chocolate brownies setting on the counter. A large bowl of fudge, a cup of walnuts, a cup of cooking oil. A bowl in her hands held a few eggs.

"What the...?"

She spun when he stomped into the room.

"Duo? What's wrong?"

"Stupid splinter," he muttered, ashamed to have anyone see him in such a ticked off mood. Especially the sweet Cara. Over the last three days, he'd come to realize just how wrong Quatre had been about her. She was actually very nice, and she didn't really hold a grudge- like she'd said, she'd had a hard time a work. Everyone needed to vent sometime or another. After that first awkward meeting in the hallway, Duo'd come to respect the young doctor. Respect and .... something more, maybe...

"A splinter? Come here," she set the bowl she was holding down, opened a drawer and pulled out a little white box.

"It's nothing," he said, a bit vehemenently.

"Nonsense. I'm the doctor here, so I'll say what's nothing." She did this for a living, he reminded himself. She knew how to handle unruly patients. But he still tried to duck out of the room before she could catch him.

She snagged his collar before he could storm away, and forcefully pushed him back against a clean part of the counter, using her hip to keep him in place. He tried not to think too much about the way her hip and thigh were touching his.

There were no stools around, so she ordered him to sit on the counter. He did so grudgingly, muttering as she grabbed his hand and looked at the viscious spinter.

"Ohh, boy. More like a tree trunk than a splinter, but we'll have it out in no time." She held on to his finger with one hand and opened the little box with the other. Duo closed his eyes and let her bend over his finger, working away, and ignored the sting when she applied antiseptic to the slinter wound, blowing gently to dry it, and then dabbed a bit of iodine over it. She had a lovely bedside manner... er, counter-side manner, he corrected. He opened his eyes and stared down at the back of her head. She'd let her hair down tonight, and it had a slight wave in it. And she smelled like jasmine.

He knew it made no sense. He'd thought that after Hilde, he couldn't feel this attracted to someone else. Much less such a pacifist doctor as Cara- despite her endless legs and her gorgeous eyes. And much less, Quatre's sister- a woman with more family than hairs on her head. But he did care, he did feel, he did want her. She laughed at his jokes, she was utterly feminine, but she could piece apart her motorcycle and put it back together as easily as she could do surgery on a human being. Cara really was exquisite. It shouldn't be a crime to feel this way. And he was Duo Maxwell... since when did he care if something was a crime or not?

"There all done," Cara set the tweezers and splinter down. "Now you can quite acting like such a..."

She looked up, and her voice trailed off. Her gaze was locked with his, her blue... his violet. He knew it was a manuever, but he didn't care. He held her gaze- an easy feat with such intense eyes as his, and then kissed her.

He kept it gentle, casual, but he gave just a little heat, telling her he wanted more- sometime or other. Through sheer will power, he didn't touch her, just kissed her softly, sweetly. Lord, she tasted like the chocolate she'd been making- she must have stolen a few bites of fudge. His tounge darted out to taste the cocoa on her lips, she sighed a little. He broke the kiss as quickly as he'd started it, then smiled at her. It was a bright smile, but more genuine than many he'd given others.

"Thank you," he said. She was confused for a moment, then she smiled back. Partly because she still held his hand. She lifted his hand, kissed the end of his finger. Just a brush of the lips, nothing more.

"To make it feel better," she explained softly, then turned and left the room quickly, forgetting her brownie making supplies still on the counter.

Duo sat there, looked at his hand, at the clean, clear skin where only a small cut and a small dab of iodine showed where the splinter had been. He recalled the feel of her lips beneath his, then the feel of those same pink lips across the little wound on his finger.

This was really something to think on.

No one had ever kissed him where it hurt before.

AN: Reveiw and comment! Criticism is welcome as well!