Madelyn, Kurt - Thursday morning
Nov. 11th, 2004 07:34 amThe morning after the night before. Madelyn is having touble with shoes, as you would after shredding your knuckles on a punching bag. Kurt comes to the rescue, and they finally arrange payment of the dinner debt. Well, one of them.
"Dammit!" Madelyn grimaced as she tried to tie her sneakers, her grazed knuckles stiff and painful the day after the scene in the gym. She was in her suite, freshly showered after a full night's sleep, the door slightly ajar - she was on her way down to medlab again. Or she would be, once she managed to get some shoes on. Maybe slip-ons would be better...
Kurt, passing her suite, noticed that the door was ajar with a slight frown, and decided he'd better check everything was all right. Knocking quietly on the door, he called out, "Madelyn? Are you there?"
"Not for long..." Madelyn toed off the untied sneakers, tossed them balefully back into the closet and dug out the slip-on short boots Carlie had gotten her last Christmas - they were still practically new. "Come in, Kurt," she called over her shoulder, tossing her hair back out of her way. It was still damp from the shower - she'd braid it back when she got downstairs.
He did, smiling at her as he came into the room - although the smile quickly faded when he noticed the difficulty she seemed to be having with her shoes. "Are you all right?"
Madelyn flopped back onto the couch to pull on the boots - it still wasn't easy. "Shit," she muttered, realising she'd opened up the grazes on her right knuckles again with the repeated movement, the scabs softened by her shower. "Nothing you need to worry about," she sighed, giving up on shoes for now in favour of grabbing the first aid kit she kept in the kitchenette. "Completely self-inflicted." She sounded irritated - completely at herself.
His eyes widened as he saw the blood, and he moved quickly to her side, reaching for her hand. "Let me see. What happened?"
With a defeated sigh, she let him lead her back to the couch, putting the kit on her lap and trying to open the zippered case with one hand. "I got attacked by a punching bag?" she suggested. "It's all right, they're just a bit tender - I was having trouble with everything this morning because I couldn't bend my fingers properly."
He took the kit away from her and started rummaging for disinfectant and bandages himself. "That does not sound good. Has it improved a little now?"
She watched him rummage. "That one," she directed as his fingers brushed against the tube of disinfecting cream. Holding the hand out for him - the knuckles were scraped raw and slight swollen from the underlying bruising - she tried not to wince too much as he carefully applied the cream. His touch was very gentle, she realised. "I think so," she said, answering his question but not meaning the knuckles at all. "There was stuff I needed to get out, and I don't always deal well with frustration, as you've seen." She gave him a wry smile. "Irish temper. I still owe you that dinner for that time in the morgue, don't I?"
He finished with the cream and found a roll of gauze, wrapping it around her hand absently. "Two dinners, as I recall", he answered with a touch of mischief. "And now Hank is back, I believe you will have more free time to make good on them?"
"Two it is," she replied, smiling a little at the tone. "And providing there's not an outbreak of Ebola or something, I think we can manage that. How's tomorrow night sound?"
He looked up with a smile, tying off the gauze. "Tomorrow night should be fine, if you are free."
"See, now you've gone and made sure there's Ebola," she said, chuckling. She tested out the bandage with a careful flex of her fingers. Not bad at all. "I'll make sure I am - as everyone keeps telling me, I'm not essential to the place and need to take a break more often, so if anyone argues I'll have Haroun point out just how much I need a night off occasionally." The joking tone cracked a little at the end as she remembered the state she'd been in yesterday, and she took a breath, consciously pushing it aside. She'd vented, she'd deal. And there was no point wishing for what was gone.
"I do not think I would say that you are not essential to the place", he told her gently. "It is not essential that you run yourself into the ground, certainly, especially now Hank has returned... but you yourself would be much missed if you were to leave."
She blushed, the colour clearly defined against her probably too-pale skin. "Now you're teasing me," she told him, suddenly remembering that she had been in the middle of putting her shoes on. Hiding her flaming cheeks behind the damp, loose curls of her hair, she bent and awkwardly tried to pull the first boot on. "No need to worry, I don't think I'm fleeing the place just yet," she said, growling at the obstinate footwear. Maybe flip flops were in order, only they weren't safe for the lab...
Kurt was debating whether or not he should take the boot away and put it on for her, eyeing her hands in concern. "Not at all. And I am glad to hear it."
She caught his look and surrendered the boot with a sigh. "Okay, defeated by yet another inanimate object. Help?"
He nodded with a faint smile, taking the boot and casually lifting her foot to put it on. "Of course. I did not like to ask, in case you wanted to do it for yourself."
"You know me too well," she said with a laugh, moving back and turning around to face him so he could actually get her boot and foot to mesh. "Too damn independent for my own good. Which was probably pretty obvious these past few weeks." She had the good grace to look a little ashamed. "If I ever get that stupid about work again, promise me you'll kick me in the ass?"
He pulled the boot on easily, and reached for the other. "It is not as though you had no reason to be, as the only fully qualified doctor here for so long. But now that that is no longer true, yes, I promise."
"Moira, as she reminded me in that scarily motherly way of hers, may not be qualified in this country, but she has more than enough experience and knowledge." Madelyn curled the now-booted foot under her other leg so he could put the other one on, squeaking a bit as he accidentally brushed the highly-ticklish bottom of her foot. "Me being stubborn again. But I promise, no chasing you down the halls with the tranq gun if you do kick my ass."
He chuckled, pulling on the other boot and releasing her foot. "I will remember that. Does the same apply if I decide to kidnap you again?"
"See, I like your kidnappings," Madelyn said, turning back around and placing both feet back on the floor with a satisfied thump. Yay for shoes. "So no tranqing required." She reached up and pulled her hair back from her face, using the elastic on her wrist to tie it loosely at the nape of her neck. "So, now you've helped me get dressed, I feel like I should ask you for my bagged lunch and a kiss goodbye, just like my Mom used to do," she snickered.
Kurt, in the middle of saying something in response to the "no tranqing required", heard the last part of what she'd said and stopped, suddenly very glad that blushing didn't show up on blue skin. Or at least, he hoped it didn't.
And he might have gotten away with it, with anyone else except one of the medical staff, who were practiced at determining changes of skin colour under unusual hues. Madelyn caught the slight darkening of his skin, and clapped her hand over her mouth. "That so didn't come out the right way..." she managed, before there was a shrill beeping from the pager hooked onto the waistband of her jeans. Saved by the bell. Literally. Grabbing it, she read the screen, frowning a little. "I'm sorry, Kurt, I've got to go. My essential self is needed downstairs."
He nodded, perhaps a little relieved himself. "Yes - I will see you tomorrow night, for dinner? What time did you want to go?"
Well, at least he was still talking to her, even if he still had that skittish look. "Um, seven-thirty? Is Salem Centre all right? I'm not up for crowds lately - unless there's somewhere you'd really want to go, that is, seeing how this is my treat."
"Salem Centre will be fine", he answered, forcing the skittish look away in favour of a smile. "And quiet sounds very good."
"I'll see you in the garage at seven thirty then." Smiles were good - Madelyn grinned back at him, glad she hadn't offended him too much. "Because I have a hankering to borrow Scott's car, and I think I've earned enough brownie points this week to get him to let me drive it." Her pager beeped again, and she sighed. "Damn thing. Bamf me down there before Hank sheds any more fur?"
"The garage at 7.30", he agreed, before nodding and reaching for her hand to teleport. "In the interests of keeping the medlab de-furred, I would be happy to."
It was strange, how easy it had become to give Kurt her hand. His fingers closed over hers, careful of the newly-bandaged bits. "There's no place like home," she quoted, before he activated his power and they were gone in a cloud of noisome-smelling smoke.
"Dammit!" Madelyn grimaced as she tried to tie her sneakers, her grazed knuckles stiff and painful the day after the scene in the gym. She was in her suite, freshly showered after a full night's sleep, the door slightly ajar - she was on her way down to medlab again. Or she would be, once she managed to get some shoes on. Maybe slip-ons would be better...
Kurt, passing her suite, noticed that the door was ajar with a slight frown, and decided he'd better check everything was all right. Knocking quietly on the door, he called out, "Madelyn? Are you there?"
"Not for long..." Madelyn toed off the untied sneakers, tossed them balefully back into the closet and dug out the slip-on short boots Carlie had gotten her last Christmas - they were still practically new. "Come in, Kurt," she called over her shoulder, tossing her hair back out of her way. It was still damp from the shower - she'd braid it back when she got downstairs.
He did, smiling at her as he came into the room - although the smile quickly faded when he noticed the difficulty she seemed to be having with her shoes. "Are you all right?"
Madelyn flopped back onto the couch to pull on the boots - it still wasn't easy. "Shit," she muttered, realising she'd opened up the grazes on her right knuckles again with the repeated movement, the scabs softened by her shower. "Nothing you need to worry about," she sighed, giving up on shoes for now in favour of grabbing the first aid kit she kept in the kitchenette. "Completely self-inflicted." She sounded irritated - completely at herself.
His eyes widened as he saw the blood, and he moved quickly to her side, reaching for her hand. "Let me see. What happened?"
With a defeated sigh, she let him lead her back to the couch, putting the kit on her lap and trying to open the zippered case with one hand. "I got attacked by a punching bag?" she suggested. "It's all right, they're just a bit tender - I was having trouble with everything this morning because I couldn't bend my fingers properly."
He took the kit away from her and started rummaging for disinfectant and bandages himself. "That does not sound good. Has it improved a little now?"
She watched him rummage. "That one," she directed as his fingers brushed against the tube of disinfecting cream. Holding the hand out for him - the knuckles were scraped raw and slight swollen from the underlying bruising - she tried not to wince too much as he carefully applied the cream. His touch was very gentle, she realised. "I think so," she said, answering his question but not meaning the knuckles at all. "There was stuff I needed to get out, and I don't always deal well with frustration, as you've seen." She gave him a wry smile. "Irish temper. I still owe you that dinner for that time in the morgue, don't I?"
He finished with the cream and found a roll of gauze, wrapping it around her hand absently. "Two dinners, as I recall", he answered with a touch of mischief. "And now Hank is back, I believe you will have more free time to make good on them?"
"Two it is," she replied, smiling a little at the tone. "And providing there's not an outbreak of Ebola or something, I think we can manage that. How's tomorrow night sound?"
He looked up with a smile, tying off the gauze. "Tomorrow night should be fine, if you are free."
"See, now you've gone and made sure there's Ebola," she said, chuckling. She tested out the bandage with a careful flex of her fingers. Not bad at all. "I'll make sure I am - as everyone keeps telling me, I'm not essential to the place and need to take a break more often, so if anyone argues I'll have Haroun point out just how much I need a night off occasionally." The joking tone cracked a little at the end as she remembered the state she'd been in yesterday, and she took a breath, consciously pushing it aside. She'd vented, she'd deal. And there was no point wishing for what was gone.
"I do not think I would say that you are not essential to the place", he told her gently. "It is not essential that you run yourself into the ground, certainly, especially now Hank has returned... but you yourself would be much missed if you were to leave."
She blushed, the colour clearly defined against her probably too-pale skin. "Now you're teasing me," she told him, suddenly remembering that she had been in the middle of putting her shoes on. Hiding her flaming cheeks behind the damp, loose curls of her hair, she bent and awkwardly tried to pull the first boot on. "No need to worry, I don't think I'm fleeing the place just yet," she said, growling at the obstinate footwear. Maybe flip flops were in order, only they weren't safe for the lab...
Kurt was debating whether or not he should take the boot away and put it on for her, eyeing her hands in concern. "Not at all. And I am glad to hear it."
She caught his look and surrendered the boot with a sigh. "Okay, defeated by yet another inanimate object. Help?"
He nodded with a faint smile, taking the boot and casually lifting her foot to put it on. "Of course. I did not like to ask, in case you wanted to do it for yourself."
"You know me too well," she said with a laugh, moving back and turning around to face him so he could actually get her boot and foot to mesh. "Too damn independent for my own good. Which was probably pretty obvious these past few weeks." She had the good grace to look a little ashamed. "If I ever get that stupid about work again, promise me you'll kick me in the ass?"
He pulled the boot on easily, and reached for the other. "It is not as though you had no reason to be, as the only fully qualified doctor here for so long. But now that that is no longer true, yes, I promise."
"Moira, as she reminded me in that scarily motherly way of hers, may not be qualified in this country, but she has more than enough experience and knowledge." Madelyn curled the now-booted foot under her other leg so he could put the other one on, squeaking a bit as he accidentally brushed the highly-ticklish bottom of her foot. "Me being stubborn again. But I promise, no chasing you down the halls with the tranq gun if you do kick my ass."
He chuckled, pulling on the other boot and releasing her foot. "I will remember that. Does the same apply if I decide to kidnap you again?"
"See, I like your kidnappings," Madelyn said, turning back around and placing both feet back on the floor with a satisfied thump. Yay for shoes. "So no tranqing required." She reached up and pulled her hair back from her face, using the elastic on her wrist to tie it loosely at the nape of her neck. "So, now you've helped me get dressed, I feel like I should ask you for my bagged lunch and a kiss goodbye, just like my Mom used to do," she snickered.
Kurt, in the middle of saying something in response to the "no tranqing required", heard the last part of what she'd said and stopped, suddenly very glad that blushing didn't show up on blue skin. Or at least, he hoped it didn't.
And he might have gotten away with it, with anyone else except one of the medical staff, who were practiced at determining changes of skin colour under unusual hues. Madelyn caught the slight darkening of his skin, and clapped her hand over her mouth. "That so didn't come out the right way..." she managed, before there was a shrill beeping from the pager hooked onto the waistband of her jeans. Saved by the bell. Literally. Grabbing it, she read the screen, frowning a little. "I'm sorry, Kurt, I've got to go. My essential self is needed downstairs."
He nodded, perhaps a little relieved himself. "Yes - I will see you tomorrow night, for dinner? What time did you want to go?"
Well, at least he was still talking to her, even if he still had that skittish look. "Um, seven-thirty? Is Salem Centre all right? I'm not up for crowds lately - unless there's somewhere you'd really want to go, that is, seeing how this is my treat."
"Salem Centre will be fine", he answered, forcing the skittish look away in favour of a smile. "And quiet sounds very good."
"I'll see you in the garage at seven thirty then." Smiles were good - Madelyn grinned back at him, glad she hadn't offended him too much. "Because I have a hankering to borrow Scott's car, and I think I've earned enough brownie points this week to get him to let me drive it." Her pager beeped again, and she sighed. "Damn thing. Bamf me down there before Hank sheds any more fur?"
"The garage at 7.30", he agreed, before nodding and reaching for her hand to teleport. "In the interests of keeping the medlab de-furred, I would be happy to."
It was strange, how easy it had become to give Kurt her hand. His fingers closed over hers, careful of the newly-bandaged bits. "There's no place like home," she quoted, before he activated his power and they were gone in a cloud of noisome-smelling smoke.
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Date: 2004-11-11 04:15 am (UTC)And she called me dense. Pbbbhhht!
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Date: 2004-11-11 04:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-11 04:20 am (UTC)"Tomorrow night should be fine, if you are free."
Come on, that is so a date line.
*grin*
You are never going to live this down. Ha.
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Date: 2004-11-11 04:22 am (UTC)Don't you have a coma you're supposed to be in? ;)
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Date: 2004-11-11 04:25 am (UTC)Details, details!
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Date: 2004-11-11 04:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-11 04:37 am (UTC)*smug*
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Date: 2004-11-11 04:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-11 04:26 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-11 04:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-11 04:35 am (UTC)