It was not an easy or pleasant waking. He came to awareness in a rush, the relief of consciousness warring with the lingering pain of healed injuries. His side ached
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Tina had taken the time to finish her coffee after getting the message from Rien that one of their patients had disappeared - again, damn it. Why did they bother having security? - but was still feeling the effects of the night before more than she would have liked. That she was going to have to deal with the even ruder-and-creepier-than-her-own bearded Spock did not improve her mood.
She made her way to the quarters that had been assigned to him, and pounded on the door with a little more force than was probably warranted.
He HAD actually been sleeping. The pounding at the door woke him instantly and he drew one of the knives the medical team had not removed.
He received no impression of need or urgency from Christopher - he was off being quiet, probably speaking with someone, his attention not on the bond at all.
Spock rolled to his feet with an inner grimace, ready for defense.
Tina breezed in, ready to firmly insist that the recalcitrant patient accompany her back to sickbay and take care of the whole issue as quickly as possible. As she took in the room, its occupant, and his knife with increasingly widening eyes, she realized that she would have to revise her plans. This would call for some delicacy.
"What the hell are you doing?" she demanded. "Put that down!"
Okay, maybe she hadn't had enough sleep to manage delicacy just yet.
Tina scowled. "I'm here to haul your noncompliant ass back to sickbay. You're supposed to be under observation, mister. Do you want your collarbone not to heal, for some reason? Or maybe you'd like to bleed out internally because our scans didn't catch a ruptured organ somewhere in there because they're not calibrated properly for Vulcans."
"No," Tina said flatly. "You don't get to make those decisions. Dr. M'Benga wanted you in sickbay for observation, and that's where you should be, commanding officer or not. If we let all of our patients decide for themselves when they could leave, we'd have a lot fewer people on board this ship, believe me."
She narrowed her eyes. "You know, I was thinking I'd just run a few tests and let you go again. The observation time M'Benga mandated is close to up, anyway. But now I'm starting to think you might need another 24 hours. Or maybe 48. I haven't decided."
No mention now that he had agreed with her then and that agreement had been cemented by the events of the away mission.
"You think you can force me back into your Sick Bay?"
His stance was more aggressive; he would not be moved. He'd injure himself again before he'd return to that place in such vulnerable condition - and the logic of that was not precisely sound but he did not particularly care at this moment.
Tina blinked. "Are you saying 'make me'? And you want your boyfriend - who is not a medic - to be in charge of observing you, here, in a room with no biobed or medical scanners. I'm sorry. I assumed I was talking to an adult person with some sense. How old are you? Fifteen going on 'fuck you'?"
Spock was not an unintelligent man. His intellect was as fierce as his violent tendencies. He had spoken Standard his entire life.
"I do not even know what that means, human woman."
He was baffled enough to ease his stance and simply stare at her.
It hit him then, realization sharp as his blade. She was not afraid of him. Oh, there was the fear anyone would have of those stronger than they are, he smelled that even from here, but she was not truly afraid, believed that she was capable of forcing him to return to sickbay all by herself.
The shock of it forced a rare laugh from his throat.
The laugh surprised her, and Tina could feel herself relaxing a little in the face of it, her lips twitching into a smile despite herself. She knew damn well that Vulcans don't laugh, and that if this one was, it probably meant that he was even more unstable than she'd believed.
But the situation was funny.
"It means I think you're being a dumbass," she said. "But I'm probably being a little unfair to you. Let me try this again. I know you feel fine and think you're okay, but I am concerned, and would like you to come with me and sit still for a few scans. Just to be sure."
She paused. "Honestly, I can see from here that your collarbone could do with another pass of the osteogenic regenerator. Can you feel that your shoulder is drooping? That means that that your trapezius is trying to carry the weight of your entire arm, which, trust me, it can't do indefinitely."
An assassin would not speak in such a fashion. Probably. If it was a plot to move him to a location where he would be more vulnerable, well, it still did not make any sense. Now that he was actually awake instead of awake and ready to defend himself, he remembered how she had spoken to her acting captain in the same manner - brusque and passionate about providing care.
Fascinating.
He can give her at least something of an explanation for her daring.
"I do not feel comfortable there - our sickbay is not so dedicated to... healing. I will sit for your scans but I will not stay there - it is too open and vulnerable."
His rationale made Tina wonder, but lots of people were afraid of doctors and medicine for all kinds of reasons. And his sounded like it might, horrifically, be more logical than most.
"Okay," Tina said. "We can fight about that in twenty minutes or so, how about. I'll tell you now that I'll be a lot more likely to let you go without argument if you behave yourself while I'm trying to fix you up, understand? And I can set up the equipment I need in a corner so you can sit with your back to a wall if that makes you feel better. Hell, I'll even hold your hand if you want."
She stopped for a moment, rethinking that last statement, which might have sounded way more like a come-on than she had intended. Oh well.
"Will you come along now, or should I shout some more? But put that knife down first. You'll make my staff piss themselves."
"Everyone is so concerned about my behavior. I have done nothing but reunite with my mate - who you belittle with the term "boyfriend" - and, oh, go on an ill-conceived away mission to rescue your captain."
He slid the knife back into its home at his forearm and looked for his boots.
"Better to reserve your shouting for a time when it is actually appropriate."
This Spock was not as blind to innuendo as some others might have been. But it is, in some regard, a friendly sort of innuendo.
Tina rolled her eyes and started counting off points on her fingers.
"First, I don't really care about what other people are concerned about. Second, 'boyfriend' isn't an inherently belittling term. That was my tone of voice. Third, you know I agree that the away mission was ill-conceived. And finally, shouting is never appropriate. That's why it's so satisfying."
She made her way to the quarters that had been assigned to him, and pounded on the door with a little more force than was probably warranted.
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He received no impression of need or urgency from Christopher - he was off being quiet, probably speaking with someone, his attention not on the bond at all.
Spock rolled to his feet with an inner grimace, ready for defense.
"Enter."
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"What the hell are you doing?" she demanded. "Put that down!"
Okay, maybe she hadn't had enough sleep to manage delicacy just yet.
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"No. What do you want?"
If this was some sort of assassination attempt, it was very odd.
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"You are no commanding officer of mine."
And the indignity of it!
"I was resting, as instructed. I cannot do so in your sickbay. There is nothing wrong with my organs."
Not that he'd been allowed to properly test them. He was still a little disgruntled at Christopher about that.
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She narrowed her eyes. "You know, I was thinking I'd just run a few tests and let you go again. The observation time M'Benga mandated is close to up, anyway. But now I'm starting to think you might need another 24 hours. Or maybe 48. I haven't decided."
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No mention now that he had agreed with her then and that agreement had been cemented by the events of the away mission.
"You think you can force me back into your Sick Bay?"
His stance was more aggressive; he would not be moved. He'd injure himself again before he'd return to that place in such vulnerable condition - and the logic of that was not precisely sound but he did not particularly care at this moment.
"Christopher will return and he can observe me."
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"I do not even know what that means, human woman."
He was baffled enough to ease his stance and simply stare at her.
It hit him then, realization sharp as his blade. She was not afraid of him. Oh, there was the fear anyone would have of those stronger than they are, he smelled that even from here, but she was not truly afraid, believed that she was capable of forcing him to return to sickbay all by herself.
The shock of it forced a rare laugh from his throat.
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But the situation was funny.
"It means I think you're being a dumbass," she said. "But I'm probably being a little unfair to you. Let me try this again. I know you feel fine and think you're okay, but I am concerned, and would like you to come with me and sit still for a few scans. Just to be sure."
She paused. "Honestly, I can see from here that your collarbone could do with another pass of the osteogenic regenerator. Can you feel that your shoulder is drooping? That means that that your trapezius is trying to carry the weight of your entire arm, which, trust me, it can't do indefinitely."
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Fascinating.
He can give her at least something of an explanation for her daring.
"I do not feel comfortable there - our sickbay is not so dedicated to... healing. I will sit for your scans but I will not stay there - it is too open and vulnerable."
Reply
"Okay," Tina said. "We can fight about that in twenty minutes or so, how about. I'll tell you now that I'll be a lot more likely to let you go without argument if you behave yourself while I'm trying to fix you up, understand? And I can set up the equipment I need in a corner so you can sit with your back to a wall if that makes you feel better. Hell, I'll even hold your hand if you want."
She stopped for a moment, rethinking that last statement, which might have sounded way more like a come-on than she had intended. Oh well.
"Will you come along now, or should I shout some more? But put that knife down first. You'll make my staff piss themselves."
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"Everyone is so concerned about my behavior. I have done nothing but reunite with my mate - who you belittle with the term "boyfriend" - and, oh, go on an ill-conceived away mission to rescue your captain."
He slid the knife back into its home at his forearm and looked for his boots.
"Better to reserve your shouting for a time when it is actually appropriate."
This Spock was not as blind to innuendo as some others might have been. But it is, in some regard, a friendly sort of innuendo.
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"First, I don't really care about what other people are concerned about. Second, 'boyfriend' isn't an inherently belittling term. That was my tone of voice. Third, you know I agree that the away mission was ill-conceived. And finally, shouting is never appropriate. That's why it's so satisfying."
She grinned, sharp-edged but sincere, and led the way to sickbay.
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