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xp_logsKane and Jean spend some time together that ends badly.
"Hey Doc." Kane was still in his leathers. "I need a hand. Just... I don't want it logged in the medlab because it shows how much my powers are gone. But I think I cracked a couple of ribs."
Jean's eyebrows rose in surprise, and she was silent for a moment or two. The idea of not charting something made her feel like she was breaking every one of her doctor codes. Luckily she kept her own private records.
"Okay. Take off your shirt. I need to do an exam."
"Sure." The gash on his temple had stopped bleeding and already had a field patch on it, even if it made him look bloody and hollow-eyed. He peeled off his leather jacket carefully, wincing as he did so before pulling off the undershirt. The left side of his torso was already an impressive mottling of emerging bruises, "And before you say anything, I've already sent a message to Scott pulling myself from the active duty roster and let him know why."
"Damn, I wanted to make a fuss," Jean mused with a light smile. "Well, you're still going to get a little bit of one." Rising from her chair, she grabbed a small emergency medkit she kept in her room because you never knew when it was needed. Like now.
"On a scale of 1 to 10 how bad does it hurt?" she said, motioning for him to sit on the bed.
"Painwise, it's about halfway between a kick in the fork and having to listen to Kyle karoake." He joked, earning a stern look before shaking his head. "Sorry, right, you're the doc, Doc."
***
"If you're going into private practice, you need to start charging more, Jean. I mean, one cocktail for a consultation suits my budget but it's not going to get you that new Lexus." Kane said as he brought over her drink - her price for the quick once over - and set it down in front of her with his pint. Harry's was quiet, save for a few tables watching the Rangers game.
"I don't know what you're talking about. I just wanted to get your shirt off," Jean said with a smirk, glancing over the top of her drink before taking a sip.
"Kidding." She glanced around the bar. A thought was stuck in her mind. "Are you going to ever tell the others about your...condition? It's probably going to get worse before it gets better."
"Hey, I've got eyes. I've seen myself without a shirt on." He joked. "I'm thinking about it. I'm off the roster for now in any case. Gives me a little while longer to think about it before it becomes obvious. Be nice to have a few more weeks to pretend being normal though, eh?"
"So what you're saying is this was all a ruse to get yourself injured so you could chill out and enjoy the winter season without having to fight zombies and ghouls?" Jean said. She nodded thoughtfully. "Makes sense."
"I know, right? I get to spend all winter in Boiler Beach with cocktails. It's a plus one invitation if you're interested." He gave her the Groucho Marx over the rim of his pint as he took a sip.
"Alas, one of us is not beaten all to hell and has to patch up the ones who get that way. But I'd be happy to stop by for a lounge when I get free time."
"So when I'm not beat on and you have free time. Well, we just determined that isn't going to happen." He said, but his smile lightened things. "We're both too dedicated."
"Well...we've got the time now," Jean said, raising her glass. "And the cocktails. So I say we make the most of it."
"Agreed!"
***
Jean shifted and Kane surfaced, not a long sleeper but due to his loss of powers, closer to a normal schedule. His arm was snaked around her waist and both of them were well cuddled under his blankets. The wolf surfaced, but Kane flicked him away vigorously, not wanting to subject her to the wolf's affectionate but slobbery attentions.
Suddenly keenly aware of Garrison's touch on her nearly bare skin, Jean's eyes snapped open. The drunken, uninhibited haze of the previous evening had lifted, save for the aching throb of a small hangover. Picking up his arm, Jean quickly climbed out of bed, ignoring the hiss of cold enveloping her body as she searched for her clothes. Oh no oh no oh no.
"Oh, hey, you okay?" Kane said, suddenly roused fully awake. "You need... anything?"
"My pants. Where are my pants?" Jean mumbled. "I need to go."
"Yeah, they're all on the couch." Kane said, puzzled. He was still in his boxers and she was in her underwear. "We- uh. We decided we'd had too much to drink so we kept everything else on."
Her frenetic pace slowed for a moment, and she nodded a little. "Right," she said as the memory slowly came back to her given his reminder.
"I--" She quickly grabbed her pants, awkwardly pulling them on.
Forgetting her shirt, she started for the door. "I need to go." She said that already, but she didn't know what else to say.
"Oh- I mean. Ok. I mean..." But Jean was already gone. He stood there for a moment as the wolf came and joined him at the door. He nuzzled him and Kane dropped a ruffled of his ears. "Sorry buddy. I don't think she's coming back." He sighed. "Well done, dickhead." He muttered to himself before nudging the wolf back.
"Hey Doc." Kane was still in his leathers. "I need a hand. Just... I don't want it logged in the medlab because it shows how much my powers are gone. But I think I cracked a couple of ribs."
Jean's eyebrows rose in surprise, and she was silent for a moment or two. The idea of not charting something made her feel like she was breaking every one of her doctor codes. Luckily she kept her own private records.
"Okay. Take off your shirt. I need to do an exam."
"Sure." The gash on his temple had stopped bleeding and already had a field patch on it, even if it made him look bloody and hollow-eyed. He peeled off his leather jacket carefully, wincing as he did so before pulling off the undershirt. The left side of his torso was already an impressive mottling of emerging bruises, "And before you say anything, I've already sent a message to Scott pulling myself from the active duty roster and let him know why."
"Damn, I wanted to make a fuss," Jean mused with a light smile. "Well, you're still going to get a little bit of one." Rising from her chair, she grabbed a small emergency medkit she kept in her room because you never knew when it was needed. Like now.
"On a scale of 1 to 10 how bad does it hurt?" she said, motioning for him to sit on the bed.
"Painwise, it's about halfway between a kick in the fork and having to listen to Kyle karoake." He joked, earning a stern look before shaking his head. "Sorry, right, you're the doc, Doc."
***
"If you're going into private practice, you need to start charging more, Jean. I mean, one cocktail for a consultation suits my budget but it's not going to get you that new Lexus." Kane said as he brought over her drink - her price for the quick once over - and set it down in front of her with his pint. Harry's was quiet, save for a few tables watching the Rangers game.
"I don't know what you're talking about. I just wanted to get your shirt off," Jean said with a smirk, glancing over the top of her drink before taking a sip.
"Kidding." She glanced around the bar. A thought was stuck in her mind. "Are you going to ever tell the others about your...condition? It's probably going to get worse before it gets better."
"Hey, I've got eyes. I've seen myself without a shirt on." He joked. "I'm thinking about it. I'm off the roster for now in any case. Gives me a little while longer to think about it before it becomes obvious. Be nice to have a few more weeks to pretend being normal though, eh?"
"So what you're saying is this was all a ruse to get yourself injured so you could chill out and enjoy the winter season without having to fight zombies and ghouls?" Jean said. She nodded thoughtfully. "Makes sense."
"I know, right? I get to spend all winter in Boiler Beach with cocktails. It's a plus one invitation if you're interested." He gave her the Groucho Marx over the rim of his pint as he took a sip.
"Alas, one of us is not beaten all to hell and has to patch up the ones who get that way. But I'd be happy to stop by for a lounge when I get free time."
"So when I'm not beat on and you have free time. Well, we just determined that isn't going to happen." He said, but his smile lightened things. "We're both too dedicated."
"Well...we've got the time now," Jean said, raising her glass. "And the cocktails. So I say we make the most of it."
"Agreed!"
***
Jean shifted and Kane surfaced, not a long sleeper but due to his loss of powers, closer to a normal schedule. His arm was snaked around her waist and both of them were well cuddled under his blankets. The wolf surfaced, but Kane flicked him away vigorously, not wanting to subject her to the wolf's affectionate but slobbery attentions.
Suddenly keenly aware of Garrison's touch on her nearly bare skin, Jean's eyes snapped open. The drunken, uninhibited haze of the previous evening had lifted, save for the aching throb of a small hangover. Picking up his arm, Jean quickly climbed out of bed, ignoring the hiss of cold enveloping her body as she searched for her clothes. Oh no oh no oh no.
"Oh, hey, you okay?" Kane said, suddenly roused fully awake. "You need... anything?"
"My pants. Where are my pants?" Jean mumbled. "I need to go."
"Yeah, they're all on the couch." Kane said, puzzled. He was still in his boxers and she was in her underwear. "We- uh. We decided we'd had too much to drink so we kept everything else on."
Her frenetic pace slowed for a moment, and she nodded a little. "Right," she said as the memory slowly came back to her given his reminder.
"I--" She quickly grabbed her pants, awkwardly pulling them on.
Forgetting her shirt, she started for the door. "I need to go." She said that already, but she didn't know what else to say.
"Oh- I mean. Ok. I mean..." But Jean was already gone. He stood there for a moment as the wolf came and joined him at the door. He nuzzled him and Kane dropped a ruffled of his ears. "Sorry buddy. I don't think she's coming back." He sighed. "Well done, dickhead." He muttered to himself before nudging the wolf back.
