I didn't say anything. I wasn't gonna
::reluctantly hands warm, sweat-damp kelsie_wildman
over to her mother, watching her latch onto bottle with no hesitation::
I just hate to have her so out of it at a time like this.
What do you expect her to do if she's lucid, Andrew, pick up a phaser and defend you from the big bad intruders if they stomp in?
::softens snap with a smile before turning to friend::
You could stick some of that in with his inoculation too, if you like.
Don't think I haven't considered it. The only thing stopping me is the knowledge that I'd be hearing about it for eternity.
::reaches up to lift son's chin, giving his cheek a light smack just because::
Andrew, breathe. You're making everyone else hyperventilate too.
::shakes off both touches, crossing suddenly empty arms in annoyance while deliberately focusing eyes across room::
::narrows them when a certain other quarter Ocampan hits view::
Sorry we can't all be perfect.
::twists to follow his gaze::
:: releases a very deep sigh::
::turns back, replacing slap for a cheek peck::
Nobody's perfect. And you're mine. That counts for more than something.
::hastily scrubs cheek with sleeve, pretending not to hear not even much muffled laughter from everyone nearby::
Go back to not caring, before you convince me we're all gonna die.
::parts lips for a retort, but ends up reaching out to grab an arm instead when ship rocks again and lights flicker::
::follows own advice and breathes, releasing his sleeve and smoothing it down while trying to force some calm into tone, for everyone's sake::
I'll just go back to work, how's that? I think it's time we inoculated.
Whatever makes you feel better.
::swallows pride and draws rest of present family a little closer, tucking the both of them securely under an arm::
::has to admit, whatever was in that bottle worked...the kid is out, and looks a lot more peaceful than she has for hours::
::catches half-Ktarian's eye, trying for reassuring grin::
Hey, don't worry. We don't need K's help for defense, Mom will catch them at the door with loaded hypos.
::ripped away from almost
finished vial, crosses arms, staring up at ltcmdrtomparis
with very limited patience::
::tries not to look too
relieved that he's still in one piece::
Is there something you need?
::grimaces...yep, every single one of them the same::
I need to know what's wrong with good old-fashioned stairs. How often do those break?
...I'd also like your more professional opinion
before I let you in on the real news and ruin any chance of polite discourse once and for all.
...have you seen Chakotay in here lately?
You'd be surprised at how many more injuries I'd probably have to treat if we had stairs. Humans in particular can be very, very clumsy.
Yes, Vorik and Megan will be fine, no, I won't release them for duty just yet, and it was very kind of you to inquire.
No, I haven't seen him in several hours.
::releases a silent blue streak this time, turning to stare across room at grandson and his snort of laughter::
::after earning a meek nod, turns back to daughter, choosing to ignore most of her rapid-fire diatribe::
I wasn't talking about jaywalks through the ship, I was talking medically, Doctor.
Have you treated him for anything lately? When was his last physical?
If I or the Doctor had seen him for anything serious enough to be your business, you would already know, Commander.
...his last physical was fine.
::tilts head, nonetheless mentally reviewing memories of it::
::twitches fingers, fighting temptation to rub temple::
He looked a little peaked in the briefing earlier. Unfocused. Tired.
::lifts eyes...the joys of amateur diagnosis::
I haven't seen anyone today who doesn't. Considering responsibility for how this ends rests squarely on his shoulders, I think he has he right to look more than a little peaked.