Meeting an Immovable Object
Meeting an Immovable Object
Summary: When an irresistible force (Tais) meets an immovable object (Micah)
Date: 121 ACH
Related Logs: None

Micah is sitting up in bed at the moment, tucked into a pair of fatigues and standard-issue tank tops, and in the process of trying to lace boots onto his feet. Which is a difficult task, with one arm in a sling.

Tais enters the recovery room and seeing the Lieutenant's dilemma, brushes his hands away, bending to tie the boots herself. "It is alright to ask for help, you know."

Micah tenses right up, the second someone's hands are on his, pushing them away. If she'd been any more sneaky in her approach, it's safe to say she'd probably have been shoved for her efforts. As it stands, a disconsolate grunt suffices while she bends to tighten laces. "Didn't need help. Just needed a few more minutes."

Still bent over, her face lifts to look at him, a rush of color warming her cheeks. In embarrassment, she straightens and steps back, the final gromets still unlaced, "Of…course. Do forgive me, Lieutenant." To hide her discomfort, she opens his chart, her face nearly pressed to the contents. "Do continue. I can wait."

Micah leaves them unlaced for the present, and remains hunched there on the bed, broad shoulders and dark, disheveled hair lending him a faintly thuggish appearance. It's Tais he's watching curiously now. Or perhaps more accurately, her blush. "What the frak am I forgiving?" He stares a moment or two longer. "But word of advice, don't sneak the frak up on me like that again. Sir."

Tais's eyes meet the man's from but a few feet away, another bloom of color and a furtive nod. "Of..course not." Lifting her arm as though promising, "I will announce my presence at least," she glances down at her watch, "Four seconds prior. That should theoretically give you sufficient time to steel yourself so as not react in a tactical manner." Her eyes behind the darkly framed glasses are wide and earnest.

Micah's tongue sneaks out to swipe over his lips, eyes still fixed upon the flustered little doctor with an expression approaching smug amusement. "I don't bite, you know. Don't matter what they say 'bout me." The last part's mumbled as he ducks his head again to finish lacing his boots. It's awkward, and fumbling, but he's getting the job done. "Got a name, doc?"

Tais nods silently, then realizes, with his head down he can't see it. "Tais. Pomona. Doctor." How those are placed is at your discretion. Her fingers press the glass' bridge to her nose as she catalogs your physical efforts in doing mundane procedures.

There was a wince as he bent forward, probably those cracked ribs giving him some pain. Not like he's going to say a word about it. "That's three names," he points out with a grunt as he manages to finish tying off one boot, and moves to the next. "You care which one I use?" His head might be down, but he can still watch her booted feet. And likely does, now and then, as if keeping tabs on how scuffed they may or may not be.

Tais follows his eyes to her boots and she resists the urge to lick her finger to wipe away a bit of dirt on the toe. Straightening her back as though trying to remember her training she returns in as professional a response as possible, "Of course not. I believe we all put our pants on one leg at a time, though I am aware of the Colonial instruction of addressing one another per rank, though these also could be considered quite extraordinary times at best." Which, in and of itself truly did not answer the question.

"You're pretty fruity.." Another grunt. Ow, that hurt. "..for a doc. Doc." Which seems to be the name he's picked. His fatigues are patted down briefly, then he's shifting with some discomfort to reach for his jacket. Who knows whether he's allowed out of here yet, but he's certainly going to make a play for it.

Tais's single brow lifts, his observation of her unflattering at best, though she knows it is far too late to rectify that now. "Regardless, Lieutenant, I'm giving you pain medication and instructions to your superior for light duty. No heavy lifting and no flying." Her hand flies across the paper, noting her concerns and directive for the pilot. "Take your medication, please and if you find yourself feeling sleepy, score the pill to one half."

Micah misses that little brow lift. He's a blunt instrument, subtle's not in his vocabulary. "Aye, sir," he mumbles, looking none too pleased at the directive of taking pain meds. Getting his broken arm into that sleeve simply isn't going to happen, so he leaves the sleeve dangling as he pushes to his feet. "Major seems pretty scarce 'round here, you know when he's usually on duty? Need to have a word with 'im, about my pilots."

You say, "Make an appointment, would be your best bet, Lieutenant." Fingers smooth a lock of hair behind her ear, the same motion moving to her glasses in order to secure them to her face. "That's about what we have to do, as well." She takes the container of meds from the nurse and then hands them to the pilot. "One now, one when your arm starts to tweak, then every four to five hours after that. I want you to return in two days for a follow up.""

The pills are accepted, grudgingly, and tucked into a pocket of his fatigues. Obviously he missed the bit about 'now'. Or maybe he just missed the whole damned thing, since getting out of here as quickly as possible is his prerogative. "Aye, sir," he repeats, finally lifting his eyes to meet Tais' briefly. Which doesn't really require too much lifting, since he's got several inches on her. "Ta again." He winks, and then starts trudging on out.

Tais observes the angle of his arm, causing her to move forward and then come to a halt. She turns to follow him, moving to his front, eyes lift to his as she gently asks, "May I?"

Snatch comes in from Sickbay.

Tais is standing in front of Micah, preventing his flight from Sickbay for the moment.

Micah halts as well, having been on his way out of the ward. He looks perplexed about something, and glances down at himself like he's expecting to find his fly open. Tais is given a bewildered look.

Snatch is, contrariwise, on her way into the ward, having been apprised as to Jailhouse's current location from his squadmates. But there's also a Tais in her way as she jumps over the threshold, putting on the brakes before she bumps into the doctor, then leaning to one side to peek around from behind her, "Han, Jailhouse," she calls, with a wave.

Tais's touch is at once professional and gentle as she adjusts the sling to fit lower against the pilots abdomen and then cradles it against her body before slipping it into the sheath. Fingers straighten the mesh of the sling, the rasp of velcro loud within the room. She then steps back with further instructions, "When you shower, hold the arm stationary and then place it back in the sling as soon as possible." She looks pointedly at the pocket holding the pills, instructing a nurse to procure water. She brooks no argument while waiting for the pain pill to be swallowed…now.

Apollo on a frakking pogo stick, Tais is really serious about that pain pill. And Snatch's timely appearance, popped around the doctor's shoulder, earns a grimace from Micah as if plying her for sympathy while the sling's properly fitted. He doesn't much like being touched on the best of days, but all that fiddling has muscle tensing until he's stiff as a board. He nods here and there to signify he gets her instructions, and gives a little roll of his eyes when the nurse with the cup of water approaches. Argh. FINE. Out comes the pill, tossed into his mouth, a sip taken before he finally greets the snipe with a 'hey, Mopsus Doe'.

"Ah left yin sommat back'n yer bunk, ou-ais," Mopsus Doe drawls on from behind Tais, not interrupting the medical procedures, "Ah got Nicky t' keep it safe for yin 'til y'ns git back thar," she explains further, "Ah hear't als y'ns war still 'roun's bout o'er here an' Ah reckon't Ah'd com' an give mahn thanks person-wise," she smiles at him warmly. "Thems vittles gone faahn' good use 'roun' theens parts, ou-ais."

Tais sees the pill taken and with that, she moves out of his way, a brief smile and nod for the Petty Officer and a murmured, "Flee, Lieutenant. In two days I want to see you."

There probably aren't many remaining in the fleet, who can properly parse what Snatch just said. Micah, it seems, is one of them. He's actually got the good grace to look mildly embarassed, awkward, when she gives her thanks. "Then you're lucky you caught me on my way out, before I went an' sat on it," he answers with a weary-looking grin. The expression softens, just a touch, as he regards Tais for a moment. Then he's headed out, crooking a finger for Mopsus Doe to follow. The other arm, notably, is in a sling and he still looks a bit bruised about the noggin.

Micah leaves for Sickbay [o].

Snatch peeks to the doctor with a brief smile, too, "An thanks t' yin fer paitchin' up ourn boy, ou-ais," she adds before she toddles away after Jailhouse.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License