A bit of crack with some fluff and steam for good measure ;) This is set between S2 and S3. Thanks to akachankami for the beta!

What A Chancellor Can Order

"Take off your clothes." Abby demanded, making sure the war room door was closed. She heard Marcus' sharp intake of breath behind her and she turned, a frown on her face. "What?"

His dark eyes stared back at her, unreadable. He licked his lips and averted his gaze, rubbing the back of his neck, a light blush on his cheeks. "Nothing." The flush concerned her more than his clearly embarrassed behavior. "Look, Abby, I'm fine…"

She glared. "Did you or did you not fall down a ravine?"

He did look the part, in any case. There were leaves tangled in his hair, there were patches of dirt on his face, his hands and his neck were scratched, and his clothes were torn in some places…

It was Bellamy who had told her because, of course, fool that he was, Marcus had come back from the recon mission and had headed straight to the war room to update the map instead of stopping in Medical where he ought to be.

"Nothing that glorious. It was more of a ditch." he joked, his lips stretching into a small smile.

She didn't smile back. She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Are you limping?"

She had seen it. He had tried to hide it as soon as she had stormed into the war room, demanding to know why he hadn't come to find her immediately if he was hurt but she had seen it. He could downplay it all he wanted, she had been a doctor long enough to know the signs of a sprain when she saw it.

"It's nothing." he insisted. "I twisted my knee. I'll stay off it and…"

"I will be the judge of that." she declared, placing her hands on her hips in a commanding attitude. "Take off your clothes now."

"Abby." he protested, some annoyance in his voice.

"It's an order, Commander Kane." she snapped. "Take off your clothes now."

Again, he froze and stared at her with that unreadable gaze… His pupils were blown and she wondered if he had hit his head at some point, if he had a concussion, if…

"I'm not sure you're really allowed to order that, you know." he pointed out, finally unzipping his guard jacket and tossing it on the chair behind the desk.

The shirt was next and she cleared her throat while he pulled it off because she had been a little focused on making sure he was alright but now she was starting to understand why he was so reluctant. The moment he started slipping the shirt off, she felt the tension that had been simmering between them for weeks rising up another notch.

She should have dragged him back to Medical. Medical was neutral ground. Medical would have been a doctor examining her patient...

The war room…

The war room was anything but neutral. The war room was theirs: their mug waiting side by side on the desk, the blanket he had brought from his room to leave on the couch for when one of them fell asleep there, the drawings Clarke had left and she had propped here and there to brighten the room, the flowers he picked outside sometimes, the book she had started and never finished because of the pile of reports they shared every evening…

The war room was intimate and theirs and…

Any wayward thought disappeared when she caught sight of his torso though. She went back in doctor mode really fast. Her hands were on him before he even had time to toss the shirt on top of the jacket and he hissed – more because of the impressive bruises that were beginning to form than because of her fingers on his skin, she supposed.

She probed and poked until she was satisfied he had no cracked ribs but the way he was subtly shuffling his weight on his left leg didn't escape her and she eventually, nudged him toward the couch.

He didn't protest and seemed actually relieved to be able to sit down.

"How did it happen?" she asked, to keep him distracted while she flashed her small flashlight in his eyes to check he didn't have a concussion.

"You're going to laugh at me." he grumbled.

"Probably." she hummed with a small smile, briefly trailing her hand down his neck and his shoulder to keep herself steady. His eyes snapped up to her and, there it was again: the tension. It was a little hard for her not to notice how firm the muscles were under her palm. She knew he was strong – of course, she knew, she was his doctor, she had seen him undressed before – but it was a totally different context now and… She cleared her throat. "I need you to take off your pants now."

"Be honest, how long have you been waiting to ask me that?" he joked, probably trying to lighten the mood.

"A while." she answered seriously before she could stop herself.

His hands froze on the buckle of his belt and he swallowed hard but he went on without comment, propping himself on his good leg to lift his hips and push them down. She crouched down to inspect the knee and slip the fabric down to his ankles and it was probably the most awkward she had ever felt with Marcus in her whole life.

She kept her features schooled, reminded herself she was a doctor – not to mention the Chancellor – and not a schoolgirl on her first serious date, and focused on the badly bruised knee.

"You said you twisted it… Did you feel something snap?" she asked, manipulating it as gently as she could.

"No. Honestly, Abby… It's just a small sprain. It's fine." he persisted.

She dismissed his protests. "How did you twist it?"

He sighed and let his head drop against the back of the couch with a small thud.

"There was a fawn." he said slowly.

"A fawn?" she frowned, looking up at him.

He was carefully not looking at her, his eyes straight on the ceiling and making an obvious effort to keep his breathing deep and regular. She supposed that, hurt or not, the sight of her crouching between his knees was bringing up thoughts that could be embarrassing given the fact that he was in his underwear.

It amused her more than was probably appropriate.

And she couldn't help but steal a few glances between his legs. It was right there, not quite staring at her in the face but very obviously yearning to.

"It came out of nowhere, it surprised me, I stepped back… There was a root… The ditch was right there… Do you really need me to tell you the sad tale of how a baby deer got the best of me?" He chuckled suddenly. "It wasn't my proudest moment."

The idea of Marcus Kane being frightened by a fawn was far too amusing and she did her best but eventually she couldn't help her laughter. It didn't seem to hurt his feelings because he laughed too.

She shook her head. "You were right to be frightened because that fawn did a number on your knee. I don't think it's too serious. Lie down on the couch, I will get you an ice pack."

"I have to go check with Miller about…" he started to argue.

"If Miller has something to report, he will find you." she retorted, attacking the shoelaces of his boots. "You're getting some rest. Doctor's orders."

"It's funny how my doctor seems to want to get me naked." he teased, bending down to take care of his other shoe.

She got rid of the boot and tugged on the pants' leg before he could think about pulling it back on. Two could play that game after all.

"Maybe your doctor likes the view." she shrugged, fighting a smile.

"Maybe my doctor should realize she's playing with fire." he warned, a little more seriously than before.

"Not in the state you're in, no." she denied, batting his hands away because being bent in two was doing no good to the bruises on his chest. She was only satisfied once he was in his underwear. She gave his shoulder a light push. "Lie down."

He did, his eyes tracking her every move.

Fetching an ice pack didn't take long but she was out of the room for long enough that he had hopped from the couch to the desk and back. If he thought she wouldn't notice the suspicious amount of reports that had magically moved to where he could grab them, she was wrong.

She sat on the edge of the couch and wrapped the ice pack around his knee without warning as punishment, making him hiss. He wasn't unaware of why he was getting the rough treatment and his pout really shouldn't have been as endearing as it was.

The scar on his thigh was glaringly obvious and she retraced it with her fingertips before she could stop herself, all flirtatious thoughts fading when she was reminded how close she had come to lose him so many times. There was another scar on his inner wrist that had almost proved itself fatal. He had a stupid tendency to try and die on her.

"I'm okay, Abby." he said quietly, covering her hand with his.

"You should be more careful." she whispered. "Didn't I order you to be more careful?"

She had. She knew she had.

He let go of her hand to gently brush her loose hair behind her shoulder. "I tripped."

"Down a ravine." she snorted.

"A ditch." he corrected.

"Not according to Bellamy." she countered.

"Bellamy made it bigger than it was." he promised.

She was more inclined to trust the boy than her fellow councilman who would hide the truth from her not to worry her.

"Do me a favor and stay clear of deer from now on." she sighed. She grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and tossed it on him to keep him warm, a little sad to lose the nice view of his practically naked body. Then she fetched her medical bag and started the boring but necessary process of cleaning the scratches on his hands and neck. They were superficial wounds but you never knew. "You're my worst patient, by the way. You always make me chase you all over the place and you're back every five days."

"Maybe I just like when you take care of me." he challenged with some amusement.

"Maybe you would like it better if you weren't hurt when I do." she retorted. "Think about that next time."

"But then you won't have an excuse to order me to strip down…" he pointed out seriously, even though the smile tugging at the corners of his lips betrayed him.

"I'm sure I will think of something." she replied just as seriously.

He smiled, eyes twinkling, reaching out for her hair again. "I'm looking forward to that."

He was playing with her hair distractedly but his gaze was riveted to hers, warm and tender and… She wasn't sure when exactly his fingers left her hair to cup her cheek. She wasn't sure if he pulled her or if she just leaned in or if it was more of a combination of the two… All she knew was that she wanted to kiss him, had wanted to kiss him for some time now, and that she was going to kiss him.

At least that had been the plan until the door was rudely opened without any warning.

She straightened quickly and Marcus' hand dropped from her face but too late for Bellamy not to see.

"Sorry." the young man winced. "I wanted to see if Kane was alright and Jackson was looking for you, Abby… I didn't mean to… interrupt."

There was a hint of amusement in Bellamy's voice that would probably mean hours of teasing from all the kids.

"Maybe you could knock next time, then." Marcus suggested, obviously not very pleased.

"Yes, sir." Bellamy answered, managing to make the respectful honorific sound anything but respectful.

Abby shook her head, a smile on her lips. "I have to go back to Medical. Stay off that leg, Marcus, I mean it." She stood up and grabbed her medical bag, briefly resting her hand on Bellamy's shoulder on her way out of the room. "Make sure he doesn't overdo it."

"I don't need a babysitter!" Marcus complained to her retreating back.

Abby ignored him.

She knew better. Something would come up, he would forget all about taking it easy and he would end up right back where they had started with her having to patch him up.

Next time, though, she would remember to lock the door.