[Starbase 69 clinic]

[rn_chapel]

After getting found outside the cargo bay, Tina collected Darcy from Dr. Kuhn in her office - resisting the urge to "just check in" on everyone. She was not back to work yet! - and went down to the informal party/social/whatever for the people who'd been playing the hide and seek game. Where she didn't see Jim or Martha, even after quite some

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[npc_69]

Paul had been consoling his brother about not winning when at home he was the BEST hide and seeker, Paul, the BEST, when the call came in.

Landon was down.

"I have to go," he said. "It's a partner thing."

"Sure, go," Anthony said, manfully sniffing. "Are you going to get the bad guys?"

Hell yes he was. "You bet," Paul told him. Anthony had a huge crush on Martha. Which Paul was pretty sure neither he nor Martha actually knew about. "I'll go see if she's okay first and let you know, all right?"

"All right."

Paul nearly broke the no-running-unless-emergency rule getting to the sickbay, but came to an abrupt halt when he saw his partner looking even paler than normal, eyes closed in her bed. She looked small and fragile.

That wasn't right, not for someone who regularly put him on his ass in training.

"Is she going to be okay?" he asked the nurse. Some blonde woman, the baby one. Tiny?

[rn_chapel]

Tina looked up from the biobed readout. It wasn't changing, but Darcy was asleep, and there was nothing else for her to focus on.

"Yes, she is. She got hit pretty hard by something, but there won't be any permanent damage." She smiled at the security guard. "Martha's a friend of yours?"

[npc_69]

Paul let out a breath and nodded.

"She's my partner," he explained, and extended his hand. "Paul Kaphoor. So no one knows what happened?"

[rn_chapel]

"Tina Chapel." She leaned over Martha to shake his hand. "No, not yet. Blunt force trauma."

She shrugged. "My guess is someone whacked her with something on purpose. You don't see that kind of injury from tripping and falling, usually."

[npc_69]

Paul hustled the smuggler into sickbay, as per orders, almost wishing that there had been a flight of stairs he could have conveniently fallen down.

Martha was propped up in bed, looking a lot steadier, and also very bored. But her eyes narrowed when Paul came in with his prisoner. "That's him," she said.

[space_pimping]

The guard gave him a neat little professional-ish shove and Harry glared as he straightened out his trenchcoat.

"I see you're still alive," Harry offered to the blonde woman. "It seems to be a fact that most people don't hold in particularly high regard of late."

He stepped forward before the security officer could accidentally bump him into a tray of medical equipment and looked for a staff member.

[axe_kicker]

"Oh, I'm grateful," Martha assured him sweetly. "As far as that goes."

She was almost glad to see him. He had tried to get them both out of there, after all, even if he'd been a jerk about it, and his intervention had undoubtedly saved her life.

What he seemed to be missing was that if he hadn't been engaged in criminal activities, he would never have been in a position to pull that ludicrous gun on her and get her stuck in the first place.

Tina was distracted. Martha swung her legs out of the biobed and covered the couple of steps between her and Leo.

She pulled the punch. But the way his head snapped back as it landed on the bridge of his nose gave no doubt that he'd felt it.

Martha clung to the end of the bed and grinned dizzily at Paul. "You'll have to report that," she said. "But it was SO worth it."

[space_pimping]

Harry stumbled back and fell, predictably, over a tray of medical equipment. It clattered to the ground loudly around him and, judging by the sharp sting in his hand, had most likely given him a pretty, new lifeline. He blinked a few times as he sat up, his hand pressed tentatively to his nose.

Hell, it was broken, plain as day.

This endless procession of degrading shenanigans was beginning to take its toll. Maybe he should have just gone along with Badass, the hyena of a man was looking less and less objectionable. Hell, being marooned in Canton was seeming less and less objectionable. No. No, Harry had standards. That mud pit was beneath even this. Harry pulled his hanker-chief out of his pocket and pressed it to his bleeding nose as he stood up.

"You kick be in the burn mark and I'm the one who gets punshed?," Harry complained carefully.