Working Girl

Nicquel sighed as she cleaned her hands with the alcohol sanitizer for what felt like the millionth time that shift. God as her witness, she was sure that she would have to put her poor hands into a twelve-step program by the end of her nursing career! Hell, with as often as she sanitized her hands for the sake of the job, it might not take that long! Sometimes the oddity of her existence would strike her and she couldn't help but shake her head at the strange life she led.

"Whew! The pad changes are bad enough without having to gown up every time we go in there," Martha, her partner nurse for the shift, sighed, sanitizing her own hands before rubbing at her back. Unlike their other patients, this patient was being isolated because he had a bacteria that did not respond to antibiotics as it should. When a patient was 'in isolation' as he was, the staff had to don extra layers of personal protective equipment - gowns, masks, gloves - to tend to the patient. It was something that all three healthcare workers were regretting considering how often one or more of them ended up in the room with him. "Why do we always get the three to four-hundred-pound guys?"

"I swear they pile them in when they know you're coming, Nicci," Thomas, the two nurses' health care aide, grumbled, casting a contemptuous look at the closed door of the room they'd all just exited.

"Oh, come on! It's not all bad. At least we don't have to worry about changing his pad for another few hours," the woman being addressed said with more enthusiasm than she felt. In the few hours since she met this grumpy, whiny, brat of a patient, she'd learned that he always came up with reasons for her to return to his room. He called constantly, insisting that only she could help him with whatever he needed. Whether that was fetching his remote control out of his tangled sheets (sheets that she'd been asked to untangle on a previous trip into his room), rearranging his pillows, getting his pain meds, or finding his cell phone, it seemed that it had to be her doing it. He threw fits when she wasn't the one to attend to him. But there were times like now, when he had pooped himself in his adult diaper, that it took all three of them to make him clean and comfortable. The fact that he constantly tried to flirt with her or cop a feel as they hoisted him onto his side to change his diaper made her question her sanity and why she bothered with this job in the first place. She wasn't even getting paid for her trouble! But then she'd sigh, realizing that despite all the headaches this patient and patients like him caused her on a daily basis, she truly did love her job. Nursing really was the perfect fit for her personality. It was a sight better than the other titles she had been given.

"Everything alright, princess?" a teasing tenor sounded from a little ways down the crowded hall the three healthcare workers were in. At the moment the halls of the unit were full of medical staff moving from patient to patient to assess them, housekeeping staff keeping the place as clean as possible in a building inhabited by sick people, and visitors to said patients. But she would know that voice anywhere. Nicquel rolled her eyes and smirked at the owner of that voice, a wave of sisterly affection replacing the annoyance she felt for her patient. She'd known Kenshin Himura since she was a child and had been assigned him as her bodyguard four years ago. He was a tolerant and sympathetic ear to his charge. He was also the best fighter in the land, something that irked her to no end, but not for the reasons one would think. "Princess?"

"I'm fine, Sir Kenshin," she teased back, mindful that the 'princess' jab was to remind her that traditionally 'nurse' was not a title afforded to one of her stature. But her father - God rest his soul - had always encouraged her to follow her dreams. He'd been right there in the crowd when his youngest daughter had graduated nursing college four years ago, tears of pride in his eyes as he congratulated her on her success. She'd be damned if she allowed the fact that she'd been born royalty stop her from living out her dream. Her job at the university hospital was everything she could have hoped for: she was challenged on a near-daily basis, used her vast knowledge and photographic memory to help her sister's subjects, and most importantly, got to feel useful. Evera wouldn't allow her to work full time, but the two sisters had come to an acceptable compromise in which she worked ¾ of a full-time line. In exchange, she had to keep up with her courtly training and attend all royal functions, even if it meant taking the occasional day off from work or rearranging her schedule.

"I gotta go chart this guy's behavior," the woman tossed over her shoulder as she walked away from her friends and towards her bodyguards, who just happened to be sitting at her workstation. She would chart on her patients here and then move off to answer call bells, give medicine, or just talk to someone. Afterward, she always returned to her workstation. That was the arrangement she'd had with Kenshin since she'd started working at the hospital. It hadn't always been this smooth; at one point the Knight had insisted on following her around like a shadow, but it was just too jarring and disruptive to have a man ghosting her every move while she tried to do her job.

Her musings had taken her halfway through her note about Reginald's unruly behavior. After four years on the job, she had become very good at organizing and articulating her thoughts quickly.

"You misspelled 'adequate'," a sinfully deep voice sounded near her ear, startling her. She flinched away from that velvety voice, nearly falling out of her chair as her concentration was shattered. Oh yeah… She'd almost managed to forget about her latest headache.

The dark-skinned man next to her reached out and steadied her on the rolling chair before it could tip and pitch her out of it. "Relax," he said simply and she could feel those intense brown eyes of his burrowing into her as he slowly lowered himself to her eye level without relinquishing his hold on the chair she was holding onto as if it were her lifeline. Once the two were level, his gaze still drilling into the side of her head, he smiled in that unabashedly sexy way that sent a powerful jolt straight to her lower belly. God, what the heck was the matter with her lately? She'd enjoyed an easy friendship with Kenshin for years now. And - according to her handmaiden, Kaoru - he was hot sex on a platter. But if that was the case, then Tyr Anasazi was a whole banquet of sexy. What with his strong square jaw, high cheekbones, long, barely tamed dreadlocks that reached to his waist, chocolate-brown piercing eyes, and those full, plump lips that just begged to be kissed…

The way he stalked along the halls, that direct gaze ever analyzing, ever calculating… It reminded her of the great hunting jaguars her father had taken her on safari to see as a child. Even as she'd feared them, she'd found their undeniable grace and power weirdly compelling even from a young age. So too did she find herself drawn to her newest bodyguard, this Knight of whom she had yet to hear the story. She just couldn't seem to find the courage to ask him straight out who he'd pissed off to land himself in this bullshit assignment. It was scary and exciting to be in his presence; she had never in her life felt such an odd mixture of conflicting and coercive feelings at once. It would have been downright funny if being near him didn't make her feel nauseous and dizzy and elated simultaneously. It was like her brain flat-out refused to function properly in his presence. It was maddening!

After the longest thirty seconds of her life, as she refused to meet his eyes for fear of what might happen if she did, he smirked and backed off of her, removing his arm from her chair. Nicquel shivered even as her whole body felt aflame, sensitized, and throbbing. What the hell was the matter with her? All at once, she felt the urge to shout at herself in anger or burst into tears! According to her handmaidens (why the heck would she need more than one?), she and her sister were constantly surrounded by some of the most attractive men in the world. Why was this one getting to her so badly? Shaking her head as subtly as she could to clear it, she corrected her typing mistake and finished her note. She barely noticed the tear that rolled down her cheek until it plopped onto her arm. Shit!

"I-I… I have to go to the bathroom," she announced and immediately fled. She needed to get her emotions in check if she planned to get through the last few hours of her shift in one piece. It was only midday. She still had three hours left before her shift was over and she could go home and be free of her tormentor. Evera didn't usually require her to be shadowed so closely in the castle, requiring only one guard - usually Kenshin. After all, the youngest daughter of Agatha and Philip Equascious was not given to mischief or troublemaking. On her days off, the young woman was often found in the library, crocheting some blanket or other creation while reading voraciously to keep up with her co-workers in terms of knowledge for her practice. When she wasn't continuing her studies, she was dodging the few suitors looking to make a name for themselves by wedding the Equascious sister that did not run the country of Ardennes, practicing with the guards so as not to be a victim should the need to protect herself arise, or blending in with the servants in the way that only a lesser royal sibling could.

Determined to control her fear, the nurse took a few precious moments to relieve herself, allowing herself a few tears for her confused heart, before ruthlessly closing off her emotions as best she could. Looking at herself in the mirror, she appraised herself as she always did when forced to take herself in. The woman was honest enough to acknowledge that she was no great beauty like her older sister. Evera was drop-dead gorgeous, her features calling to mind the great ancestral queens of the past. Taller than her by a few inches, the queen had a breathtakingly angular face, her round nose, and ears perfectly suited to her. Her body was a perfect hourglass, maintained by her personal trainers and a strict diet. And while they shared the same general facial features by virtue of sharing the same family stock, Nicquel could never quite pull off the confidence that had put her sister on the most coveted bachelorette list back when she was single.

The nurse herself was a slender woman, muscled from her training and completely natural. She lacked the curves and preternatural grace of her older sister, but she could admit to being 'cute' after her own fashion. Her honey-gold skin was unblemished and had the springy feel of youth at least. She didn't bother with the cosmetics that many of the court ladies used. What need did a nurse have for such things? Her own dreadlocks, which were as narrow and tidy as Tyr's, was caught back in a high ponytail that touched the back of her thighs. When let loose at the end of her shifts, it fell past her knees; if there was anything about her that she was vain about, it was her hair. She'd never cut it and her handmaidens helped her keep it in perfect condition.

As composed as she could manage, the woman left the bathroom and returned to her workstation. She sat gingerly on her seat, ready to flee should Anasazi come at her again. No amount of self-recrimination could make her face him head-on. Truthfully, she didn't know what he wanted from her. What, did he get some sick thrill from seeing her sweat?

She didn't know.

She wasn't brave enough to find out.

"Nicquel," a smooth, cultured voice called her at the perfect volume to grab the attention of all around her but still be considered feminine. Briefly, Nicquel wondered if her sister practiced that voice at night. Dismissing the thought as altogether beneath her, she stood and curtsied as best she could in her scrubs.

"Your Majesty," she said pleasantly. Those around her bowed and her bodyguards, who had been engaged in an intense conversation, both jumped up to bow in respect. Ignoring everything around her, the woman rose from her curtsy and smiled happily at the Queen of Ardennes. "What brings you down here to slum with us mere mortals, sis?" As she'd wanted, that heavy, troubled look that was always behind her eyes lately lifted at the familiar address. It was bad enough having her staff and everyone else around her bowing and scraping at her feet; even her husband of two years seemed to defer to her an unnecessary amount of the time. She'd be damned if she allowed her sister to get a swelled head from excessive flattery on her part!

"Hello, Babygirl," the woman said with a warm smile that few outside of her sister's presence had ever seen. "I wanted to see for myself that you were alive and well. You've hardly been home these past few days."

Nicquel giggled. She couldn't help it. Imagine, the Queen of the most powerful and lucrative country on the planet taking the time to look in on her little sister! And it wasn't like this was the first time she'd ever worked four shifts in a row; her twelve-week rotation was riddled with them. This left the question: what was her dear, overprotective sister up to?

Opting for honesty, at least until she could figure out her sister's game, she shrugged. "I've been working hard, sis. It's been a hellish four days, but at least it's over after this shift is done."

"Until your next stretch of 'hellish shifts'," the monarch said with a raised perfect brow. "You're working too hard, little girl."

"I'm doing my part to ensure the health and welfare of our citizens, majesty," she retorted in the curt tones of one that has had this argument before, both privately and publicly. "I really don't see what the problem is. I'm not in the way and I'm making myself useful. Daddy loved the idea of-"

"Daddy found the idea of a working princess amusing, Babygirl. He didn't 'love' the idea," Evera corrected sharply. "And I think that you could 'make yourself useful' by producing heirs."

Nicquel's skin started to feel blotchy as her expressive brown eyes widened in embarrassment. "Produce heirs? What, are you crazy? I think you're forgetting just which sister is in charge of the country, Your Majesty! Or do my adorable twin nephews not count somehow?" She refused to mention that the queen was pregnant again. An official press release hadn't been made yet. Besides, the mention of the twins was more than enough to make her point. Adam and Samuel were more than enough to secure the continuation of their line. So, what exactly was the point of this discussion?

Evera sighed heavily, physically restraining herself from rubbing her hand over her face and smudging her makeup. Why didn't her stubborn sister get it? "I want you settled, Babygirl. You flitting around from fancy to fancy unattached is… worrying to our people."

"'Flitting'? What exactly is 'flitting' about choosing a career, working towards it, and accomplishing that goal? And as for my 'attachment', that's not a concern of anyone but you. And as long as you're settled, there's no problem." The two siblings glared at each other. They had been having this discussion off and on for the last two years. Evera had never been this insistent before, and never in public. "Perhaps we can discuss this at another time, a time when I'm not in the middle of a busy shift?"

Evera sighed yet again, dropping her eyes first. God, her sister was so stubborn! According to their father, she'd inherited that particular trait from their mother in spades, but still! She was stubborn and surrounded by a naiveté that was astounding for one her age. At least about some things. Why couldn't she see that a number of men were looking to tie themselves to their beloved homeland? Just because the oldest of the Equascious line was wed and settled didn't mean that it was over! Especially with Heinlein - a small, densely populated land that was known for its warlike proclivities - persistently pushing for an alliance through marriage. Her eyes narrowed at the very thought of her baby sister in the clutches of that brutish bastard of a king or his sniveling son. King Cephalon was known for his boozing, womanizing, and the fact that he had spent half of his nation's wealth one year at the gambling dens while his people starved.

The son was… well he was nowhere near as bad, but he was still under the rule of his father. It was truly disgusting to know that such a pig as the former was counted among her sister's marriage prospects. Cephalon had made it clear that he wanted Nicquel for himself, son be damned. Damon was so docile as to just go along with it! And while she knew that the evil man wouldn't dare lay a violent hand on her, there were many other ways to break such a free spirit as her sweet, naïve sister. That's why she was pushing so hard to see her Nicquel married. Were she to fall in love, the idea of marrying Cephalon or his passive son would not be an option.

But why couldn't she just explain the situation to the person who was most likely to understand? Because that self-same woman was just as likely to snap and challenge the king for upsetting her sister! The idea of her little sister defending her honor was amusing to be sure, but it would surely lead to war. Cephalon was a bully and a coward who didn't respond well to rejection. He would rally his army and while Ardennes could win if it came to it, war was such a messy business. No, better to pressure her younger sibling into picking a suitor.

Of course, that was the other problem with her plan. For all that her sister claimed to be a sophisticated woman of the world, she was completely innocent when it came to men. The girl had never so much as had a crush on a boy, not even as a child. She would have taken it as a sign that the opposite sex simply did not appeal to her, but she knew for a fact that Nicquel was attracted to men. It was in the way she talked of the concept of love, the way her eyes would soften as she described the characteristics of her dream man. It was just that no one had tweaked her nerves yet. Well, it was time to attempt tweaking those nerves before it was too late! The Queen refused to force a marriage on her, especially knowing just what that marriage would entail. But it was high time for the younger child of the Equascious line to choose a husband and start having kids.

"I just want to see you settled and happy, like I am," she tried one last time. The dubious look on her little sister's face was highly amusing. Even her guards looked suspicious. Oops. Maybe she'd been laying it on a little thick. "Anyway, how are your bodyguards working out?" When in doubt, try misdirection.

"Okay, I guess," she shrugged, casting one last skeptical glance at the Queen. "Though I still question the wisdom of wasting resources like this. You know that you need them much more than me."

"I find it very important to protect a member of the Royal family from harm. In fact, I find it so important that I have assigned my best to you."

"And that's the problem, isn't it? Majesty, these poor guys are the best of the best and you've reduced them to just glorified babysitters. No one cares that I'm here! No one is worried about what I'm up to! You're the important one!"

No one was even pretending not to be listening at this point. Evera looked around the hall and saw plenty of interested faces, most friendly, but some shrewd. Taking a deep, cleansing breath, and feeling Ortho's impatience since she was scheduled to meet with her advisors in a half hour and it would take a good twenty minutes to get set up properly, she nodded. "We will talk about this again, Babygirl. For now, I'll leave you to your work."

Seeing that her older sister was done - at least for now, Nicquel nodded back. "As you like, your Majesty." The two hugged and parted ways. She seriously didn't understand the Queen at times. She didn't act like a busybody like some of her handmaidens, but… Oh well…

The nurse turned back to her bodyguards and cringed at the knowing smirks on their faces. Oh God, had she accidentally inflated their egos?

"'The best of the best', huh?" Kenshin grinned.

"Shut up," she grumbled, deciding that this was the perfect time to take a set of vital signs on all her patients that needed it. Her face still felt blotchy and her ears were burning with embarrassment. As she walked by the two men, Tyr threw up an arm to block her escape. The woman stopped immediately a scant inch from his outstretched arm.

"You shouldn't concern yourself with our comfort or well-being," he murmured next to her ear. Nicquel flinched from the honey golden tones of his voice, feeling cold where his warm breath had been caressing the sensitive skin of her ear. See, that was the thing: how the hell did one get sensitive ears? Suddenly furious with herself, she did what she hadn't had the courage to do since he'd become her bodyguard three days ago. She looked directly into his eyes as she spoke to him.

"Wouldn't you like to be where the action is instead of babysitting some spoiled princess?" The woman immediately regretted her decision and lowered her gaze from those piercing eyes. Tyr slowly lifted her head by placing one of those wonderfully calloused fingers on the air under her chin. He'd never put his hands on her person unless it was some kind of emergency, but her response to him in her personal bubble was to retreat. And the infuriating man seemed to delight in living in her personal bubble. What was his deal? She could have ordered him to back off; it was her right as a princess. But her confused feelings wouldn't allow that. She liked him in her personal space, as much as it made her heart race and her body tremble.

As soon as he captured her expressive eyes again, he smiled at her, slow and sexy, and spoke. "While I admit that I might feel that way if you were a spoiled princess, you are most certainly not. I find this assignment uniquely fascinating, your Highness." She blinked, automatically searching those bottomless orbs of his for traces of ridicule or deceit. Finding none, she immediately rushed away from him, sure that her face was turning red from how disconcerted she felt at the moment. Why, why, WHY was she so unbalanced in this man's presence?

… …

Kenshin watched his young charge once again retreat from his partner, something that the stubborn girl had never done before she'd met him.

"Stop teasing her, Tyr. I warned you before-"

"You want her to continue to believe that she has to 'rescue' us?" the infuriating man asked with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. Kenshin looked him over belligerently, but turned away, watching the area half-heartedly for danger. The princess was right about one thing; this was a joke assignment. He'd been assigned it as a cruel gag by his sadistic master four years ago. The man lived to torture him and Kenshin had every confidence that Hiko was still laughing to this day at the idea of the most feared and skilled assassin in the land watching over the old king's youngest daughter. If the girl had been anything other than she was - a driven, focused young woman with enough compassion to touch the heart of a cold-hearted murderer - he would have grown to resent this assignment. As it was, the time spent with Princess Nicquel Equascious had soothed him and calmed his murderous spirit. Their conversations had mollified his guilt over the lives he'd taken during the last great war Ardennes had engaged in a decade ago. The thirty-eight-year-old would never have suspected the nurse to have the wisdom to not only put his past in perspective, but introduce him to the love of his life, her handmaiden Kaoru Kamiya. The redhead owed her on several counts and was determined to render the best service he could afford to the woman.

His old partner had believed that this assignment was beneath him at first, but Nicquel's optimism and spirit had gotten the best of him as well. He'd retired from the service last week, being a full two decades and a half older than Kenshin. He'd expected another near-retiree for this position. Instead, he'd been partnered with a man that treated their charge like his latest conquest. The twenty-eight-year-old barely seemed to respect her position in the royal family, constantly getting into her personal space and whipping her hormones - hormones that he hadn't been aware that she had - into a frenzy. Part of him was deeply amused by her behavior around the newcomer. But mostly he was aware of his responsibility to the Queen. Three days and the princess was a mess. Queen Evera would need to be informed.

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