051 ][ VIDEO

[worksmart]

[Chase is strolling down a familiar white lit hospital corridor, ear to a phone.]

First seasonal case of sledder's testicle this morning. On his stomach, too fast down the hill, slipped through one of the slats... yep... other one was relatively unscathed, though. If I'm lucky that's my last clinic session this year.

[He pauses for the other side

Comments

[byweavinglives]

[Speaking of getting coffee, that's where Saya is, bundled up as usual, but still managing to look sleek and stylish as she gets an espresso. She's peppering it with something from a flask that she pulled out of her purse]

[byweavinglives]

That would be nice. He was going to look at my shoulder.

[She takes a sip]

I'll bring it up to Nigel.

[worksmart]

If he wants to learn about anatomy, he could do worse than learn from a prosthetic specialist. Provided Doctor Cooper's amenable. [And the coffee is the perfect temperature, now.] Shall we go?

[byweavinglives]

[She nods and shoulders her purse onto her good arm, and sips her coffee]

Well, I certainly can't teach him, unless it's about a car.

[worksmart]

Different kind of bodywork.

[Chase agrees, leading the way out of the increasingly cramped little place. He looks down at her with a smirk.]

I find both interesting.

[byweavinglives]

[It's right in the the spot that's most cramped, under an awning, that she turns and looks at him.]

Of course. Both are.

[And she kisses him on the mouth, her empty hand winding in his hair. She's a very good kisser.]

[worksmart]

[And he's not, by any description of the word, shoddy. Although it takes him a moment longer to react, his arm is soon a guide at her waist, tipping her back very slightly as he leans into the kiss.]

[byweavinglives]

[She probably tastes like coffee, and something deeper, and salty, and bitter. She holds onto him, her mouth moving on his, her eyes open. After a minute, she moves away slightly, still in the circle of his arm]

I see mistletoe.

[worksmart]

[He holds a moment, blinking blue eyed at her and catching his breath. Then lets go and looks up, still almost vulnerable in unfocused haze.]

I must have missed it.

[byweavinglives]

Are you protesting?

[Her fingers are callused against the back of his neck, her brown eyes fixed on his blue ones]

[worksmart]

[It's not exactly the kind of feminine touch he's used to, but it doesn't feel bad. It feels not-bad enough to make him bite down on his lip.]

It's only a curse.

[byweavinglives]

[Her hand moves down, and then back up, just once]

Yes, it's only a curse.

[worksmart]

[Pause. The thought hangs in the air -- and then he steps away, nodding toward the hospital.]

No point in protesting when nobody listens. Come on, don't want to miss my slot.

[byweavinglives]

[She takes another sip, and begins to move]

Your slot for what?

[worksmart]

Theatre. [He glances across, using the walk to settle back into feeling right about himself.] I'm assisting in surgery this afternoon.

[byweavinglives]

Anything complicated, or are you simply looking forward to spending an afternoon out of the public eye?