Progress

(Many thanks to Bobby for RPing this with me. Thanks, Bobby!--Maer)

An excerpt from Peripatetica, by M.K. Sebastien, Engr. ret.


Saturday, 23 Dec 2519
Kuiper II Class, Summer’s Gift
En route to Cortex Relay Station
Blue Sun (Qing Long) system
15:00 hrs, ship’s time

        I found Arden in the new med bay. We’d actually found an exam/operating table along with a powerful surgical lamp and managed to wrestle both aboard and install them. The med lab used to be cramped but thanks to our expansion into the pod bay we had more room and while it still wasn't spacious, at least you didn't have to step outside change your mind. I paused in the doorway to watch Arden putter in his new lab, gauging how well it worked for him. It seemed to suit him and casting an appreciative eye over the newly remodeled space, I had to admit the job hadn't been too badly done. Pleased, I turned my eye back to our doctor.
        He wore a bright green sweater underneath his white lab coat. Dark brown jeans and low work shoes completed the outfit and catching the line of his jaw as he turned, I saw as was his usual he apparently hadn’t bothered to shave that morning. He looked to be counting boxes of medical stuff in a cabinet and then marking a tally on a hand held comp screen. His back was to me for the most part and his body hid most of his movements. He whistled tunelessly as he worked and I winced.
        "God, Arden, if you were a piano, I'd be forced to tune you," I said as I finally crossed the threshold. I automatically checked the anchor on the light overhead, remembering how it was a bitch to hang. The weld job was nice and solid, ground mirror smooth. Just the way I liked it.
        Cabinets, he's going to need more cabinets for all the stuff he's scavved.
        Boxes and bins lay here and there against the bulkhead, on the stainless counters I'd fabricated for him, and a few smaller cartons lay on the exam table. Which reminded me why I was here.
        You can admire your handiwork later. This is a business call.
        "You said you wanted to see me."
        "Did I?" Arden looked surprised for a moment, the classic absentminded professor, and then struck a dramatic thinking pose. "Oh yes.... three months ago! But given how busy you are and your aversion to anything that might be construed as resting, that means you are right on time!" He smiled to show that he was teasing.
        "So..." he crouched and opened a cabinet pulling out one of those backless paper gowns that they make you wear in hell, and handed it to me with a grin. “You know the drill.”
        Working with Christian over the past four months had slowly worn down my instinctive flinch from touch and I’d had it in mind when I got that notice from Arden to see just how far I’d come. I’d already changed out of my coveralls before going over and standing in front of him now, I sent a silent prayer Heavenward and plowed forward.
        “Why bother? It’ll just cover up what you need to see.”
        And I pulled off my shirt.
        Arden’s eyebrows made a dash for his hairline and I could see his surprise was genuine.
        "Er, ah," he said intelligently and went pink. Then he recovered and turned around to get his stethoscope. He paused a moment and faced me again, his professional face firmly screwed on.
        "Not nice to surprise your doctor, Rina," he said sternly and then lightened by grinning. "But it does establish that I am heterosexual."
        "I never doubted it," I said. Encouraged by his restraint, I skinned out of my bra next and put it on the table beside my shirt. I joined it a second later and dangled my legs over the side. "That was never the issue."
        I straightened with a deep breath and looked at him.
        "You gonna stand there gaping or are you gonna check my shoulder?"
        "I am a professional. I never gape,” Arden replied, feigning affront. “I focus intently." He moved closer as he warmed the stethoscope with his hands and put the instrument's head on the joint in question. "Okay, slowly rotate your arm..."
        Business as usual.
        And the examination proceeded. And while Arden was professional, I was fully aware he noted and enjoyed a pretty woman when he saw one, and judging by his reaction when I took off my shirt, he must have thought I fell in that category. I tried not to think too deeply about that as he gave my shoulder the once-over and made a note to discuss it with Christian the next time he had me on his table.
        Finally Arden stepped back, the exam done.
        "Looks like your shoulder is fine. And the rest of you as well." He blushed. "What I mean is you don't have any lingering symptoms or effects from the injuries or the exposure to whatever else we found on Miranda."
        “Good to know. Christian’s been helping me with the rotator cuff,” I added. All part of the process we’d agreed to. Getting stripped to the waist and hopping on a table had become almost routine under Christian’s hands and I was glad to discover it didn’t feel much different with Arden. Mind, both situations were strictly business with Christian a therapist and Arden a doctor, but I wasn’t about to quibble. Progress was progress and I’d take what I could get. I took my time getting dressed again, resisting the urge to cover up quickly and dash out. “I was surprised how strong his fingers actually are. They’re slender, but they’ll fool ya.”
        "Massage is good therapy," Arden agreed. “That and not stressing the arm is what has made you almost as good as new. You still need to baby it as much as possible. Joint injuries take six, nine months to fully heal."
        My shoulder twinged pulling the bra on over my head. Six to nine months of this, I’d be ready to chew my arm off and be done with it. I was more careful donning my shirt and my shoulder let the action slide. I tried not to grouse but couldn’t keep my aggravation from showing when I answered him.
        “It is good therapy,” I said, thinking how true it was on too many levels. “I just wish it was faster. I landed flat on my back because I couldn’t baby myself for six weeks. I don’t know how I’m gonna manage six months.”
        "Just baby it," Arden ordered. "Nothing special. Just don't do anything strenuous. For example you can move stuff around, but if you have to think about doing it, then you should get help. You can lift a book. But if you have to lift something or other in the engine room and need both hands, call for help." With a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he added, “You could call Jake. I am sure he wouldn't mind… helping."
        "Watch it, you," I growled, annoyed. "I still have one good arm to pound you to a pulp with." I jumped off the table and raked my fingers through my hair to settle my nerves. I'd done better than I expected but I'd just reached my limit and wanted out of there. "Jake's not getting anything from me but 'please' and 'thank you' and the time of day. I'm not angling for a romance in the engine room. There's enough in there to keep me occupied already. I don't need Jake adding to it."
        Arden laughed, clearly not intimidated. "You never know until you try it, as my crèche-mother used to say. In any case, you seem to be in prime condition, just let that shoulder heal, massage it, baby it, sing it lullabies, whatever works for you. Just give yourself time to heal."
        “Fine.” I trailed a hand along the edge of one of the fabricated counters, crimped to a bullnose edge, enjoying the smooth curve of it. It put me in mind of something the galley needed and didn’t have, and I knew it would be weeks before my shoulder would allow me to make it. I remembered my collapse on Miranda and I felt my face tightening into a frown, and deliberately eased it.
        “I’ll try,” I said, giving Arden a dour grin. “I’ll try.”

More RP than Journal entry, links to the timeline is included here.

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