“if memory serves me right...” [micah]

[Jenny]

It was seven in the evening.
In other words, Tabea had been at the infirmary for exactly twelve hours, and she had barely eaten a damn thing, just dived headfirst into her workload and immersed herself in it for hours. This moment was one of few when she had truly taken the time to sit back and clear her mind; relax.

She was exhausted. Realizing that, feeling it sink in heavily like a weight on her shoulders, she sighed and pushed away from her desk and the pile of work in front of her. Reaching up, she stretched towards the ceiling and rolled her neck, feeling every the muscle of her arms and shoulders flex, radiating sore, dull pain.

Surely that discomfort was from sitting in the same position for hours and hours. Which she had been, while writing and researching.
Tabea's big "project" of the month was drug research for Thanatos Inc., as assigned to her by some government big boys. It was not the type of assignment you said "No thank you" to. It was a do it or lose your job sort of situation, and she had taken it in stride.

For five hours at least, she had been working on compiling some of the most arbitrary information about the chemical structure of certain recreational drugs, and their effects. The thing was, she had no interest in recreational drugs. What reason would she have to find interest in it? After all, she was a healer, a medic, a doctor. She had strong healing powers and an extensive knowledge of medicine and surgery, and that was what she needed. She would have written a paper on surgery and modern medical technology any day. Sadly, she wasn't that lucky.

Tabea stood from her stiff desk chair, moving to the nearby windows of her office. Being a respected doctor had its perks. The desk chair wasn't one of them, but the otherwise nice office certainly was. A view was something you didn't find often in Haviah, which was a city of towering, towering buildings crammed together with skyways and streets, but here she was high enough that she could see a bit of the sky. It was a tiny piece, but she felt lucky to see the sky at all. Thousands of people never saw the sky once in their lives. Her parents back home had told the most ridiculous myths about it. She still wasn't sure what was true and what wasn't.. She hadn't ever been able to catch a glimpse of the 'moon.'

The thought of her parents and home brought about a twinge of pain. She swallowed down the memories and turned away from the window as though the glass squares themselves had been at fault for upsetting her. Tabea moved to the small drink compartment by her bookshelves and file cabinets and poured herself a glass of some lightly caffeinated alcohol. She needed a buzz if she was going to get through this day, and a pick-me-up.

[Anonymous]

Things weren't going well for the space cowboy. The sound of his ship whining in protest of flight, and the searing pain in his left arm were causing him slight distress. He wasn't even sure how this happened, or where he took a wrong turn. Micah could feel beads of sweat developing on his forehead as he gave the steering panel a yank, turning sharply in effort to lose the ship that was chasing him through the skies of Haviah, which he was sure was kind of illegal. Alarms were blaring at him, telling him he was violating sky regulations, and more alarms blaring about a fuel leak. "Shit," Micah swore under his breath. And it had been such a good day prior.

He had almost landed a good job with substantial pay, more credits than he had earned in a damn long time. There was always a catch, though. It was a shady job, that may have included stealing some information. Which wasn't a hard thing for Micah, seeing as he was pretty good at hacking through terminals and such. And morals wasn't a problem for him, seeing as his moral scale was pretty warped and flexible, too. But with a shady job comes a shady group of people, and a certain group of people he may have double crossed at some point. How was he supposed to know it was an outercircle to the people he stole his beloved Calypso from? They didn't deserve her. She was a good ship, and they had her collecting dust in some store platform. Personally, he thought he shouldn't be at fault for taking her. They had different views on that matter, however.

Which was how he got a laser knife thrown at him with impressive precision, and it seared through his flesh. It had been a pretty cheap little laser blade, but it hurt like a bitch regardless. It had passed the blistering part, and the skin was tearing and bleeding at an alarming rate. It was safe to say that Micah bailed at that point, not equipped with the necessary weapons to fight back. He noted he would have to get revenge later, but today was not the day. Instead, he flew off, and who would have thought they'd chase him. Who would have thought they'd try to shoot him out of the sky, too?

He was in a tight situation, and the pain in his arm was getting worse. He could feel sparks of electricity coming from his wound, the tingling only irritating him. He had to land, and soon. His ship wasn't going to hold out much longer, and hell if he had the credits to pay for repairs. He needed somewhere to hide, and he needed some medical attention.

That's when the Citadel came into view. A familiar scene, and suddenly he made a split-second decision. He made another sharp turn and ducked low in the sky, weaving through tall buildings, almost clipping some. After he was sure he had lost who was tailing him, he rose up in the air again and prepared for a somewhat bumpy landing. A space port that welcomed him with open arms. At least until they slapped a few negatives on his record for the reckless flying. He knew that was coming.

Micah cringed as he felt the bottom of his ship scrape the landing port, sure that sparks were flying. After shutting her down, he sat back in his seat for a second. His heart was hammering against his chest. He took a moment to catch his breath, wiping his forehead. His left arm hurt like a goddamned bitch. Where did he put that ID card? He scanned the cockpit, opening a few random hatches before finally finding the old ID card he stole years ago from some woman who had treated him for some minor wounds. Tabea Grey, the ID said, including a picture of her. He remembered her well enough, and he was sure she would remember him. Considering he stole her ID card and skipped out on paying her for the service. If he had any other option, he would have took it. But it was a split second thing, and he wasn't lucky enough to be around an area where he knew more people. And he had to stay out of the sky for at least a few days. Those guys knew how to hold a grudge.

After going through the basic scanning and registering presence in the area, Micah was pulled aside, as he expected. He had grabbed a jacket to hide his wound, not wanting to draw even more attention to himself. "Are you aware of your reckless flying prior to landing in the space port?" A worker asked him, holding a tablet that had his violations on it. Micah nodded, hoping he didn't look pale from the pain he was concealing. "Yes, but it's an emergency," he said, trying to sound important. He flashed the ID card, hoping it wasn't expired or invalid. The man with the tablet looked at it for a moment before giving Micah a skeptical look. He tapped his tablet a little, before reading something that was out of Micah's view.

"Alright. I'll let it slide this one time."

Unbelievable.

Before Micah knew it, he was being guided to where this woman was. It was surreal. Who had luck like this? And to his pleasure, it was in the infirmary. He absently wondered what the woman's reaction would be, but he was just focused on getting to that point first. Worry about that later.

He was greeted with a door, and then was left alone. How did he pull this off? He slid the ID card over the scanner, and to his utter disbelief, the scanner indicated green, and the door slid open. Micah strode into the room, feeling hot liquid running down his arm and into the fabric of his black cut-off gloves. Shit, I don't have extras, he thought as he wiped the sweat off his forehead again. The woman was behind her desk, and he kept a good distance away, just in case she had some concealed weapon she may or may not use on him.

"Remember me?" He asked, flashing his white teeth briefly. Even through the pain, he could still find the energy to be condescending.

[Jenny]

Tabea sighed against the ornate rim of her tumbler glass, her head pounding. This was the day from Hell, apparently. She downed the remainder of her drink in one final gulp before placing the glass down on her desk. Leaning against the frame of the desk, she looked down at the paperwork with distaste. She had completed more than enough research for one day, and it would be satisfactory to the higher-ups, so she would consider herself done for now.

With that, she gathered the papers into one neat pile before slipping them into the black manila envelope at her right hand marked "RD-29029 T.I." As she was about to turn and file away the research in her cabinets, she heard the familiar sound of an ID card being scanned and approved. It stopped her in her tracks.

That was incredibly strange. It wasn't impossible, though. Those who worked above her could scan themselves into any lower subordinate's office if they wished to. But it was strange because they always knocked or buzzed out of courtesy. Tabea watched her door intently, wondering what was awaiting her.

And her visitor could not have been any more unanticipated by her- that was no exaggeration. Yet, Tabea recognized him immediately, her mind running through their initial meeting two or three years past. She had been a different woman then, fresh out of the Aedolian military from a severe injury. Those days had been some of the hardest in her life, going through rehabilitation to regain use of her left arm and struggling to be the medic and healer that her mentor had trained her so hard to be.. Micah had been one of her first patients. And he had been one of the most raucous patients she had ever had. A complete pain in the ass, actually, which was to be expected from a presumable space pirate. She pretty much detested him on the spot, and it didn't help things that he disappeared in the night, never paying her and taking with him her ID card.
Oh, fond memories, she thought sarcastically.

"Remember you?" Tabea echoed, arching a brow in an expression that might have either said "Fuck you" or "Are you fucking kidding me." Either one. "Okay, let's play a game. Give me one reason not to get security in here right now, or I'll have you thrown out on your ass." Her finger hovered over the button on her intercom for security. "Five.. Four..."

[Anonymous]

Okay, that was expected. He wasn't going to be graciously welcomed, or offered a seat. That just came with the job description. The medic, Tabea, had certainly changed in appearance. Her face was harder than he remembered, and her hair shorter. She looked older, and she also looked pissed as hell. "Okay, let's play a game. Give me a one reason not to get security in here right now, or I'll have you thrown out on your ass." She said viciously, and Micah couldn't help but let a ghost of an amused smile cross his lips. "Five.. Four..." She probably wasn't bluffing.

Micah went to raise both his arms, but immediately winced as the flesh around his wound shifted and broke. He let out an exasperated breath, "I can't give you a really good reason right now," he said as he clutched his arm, pressing the sleeve against his wound. He felt a few drips of blood leave his finger tips and hit the floor. "I'm kind've bleeding on your floor," he added as he looked down. "How about you patch me up, and then I'll give you some sort of reason?" Micah wasn't one to beg or whine, but she was his only option at the moment, and he wasn't about to make her sick security on him. He eased himself out of the jacket, letting it fall to the floor.

The wound was actually pretty bad, and it was on the verge of becoming infected. He could practically smell the infection, and while he had his fair share of injuries, it made his stomach twist a little. "I'll pay you whatever I owe," he lied through his teeth. Like hell he was going to pay her. He had his ship to worry about repairing, and she seemed like a hotshot doctor now. A hand-out here and there wasn't going to leave her on the streets.

[Jenny]

Though it contradicted her words like hell, Tabea couldn't deny that there was a part of her hoping that he would say something. Curiosity was a big player in this conversation; she wanted to know why Micah had appeared out of the blue. It wasn't often that anything strange happened to her, or that anything broke the tedium of her day-to-day routine whatsoever. So she really couldn't help but be curious.

So, it wasn't extraordinary, but the injury on his arm was enough. As far as she was concerned, that was pretty much a reason in itself. Well, not a reason to come into her office, but "I need medical attention" was a good reason not to have security beat the shit out of him. Plus, she could tell from where she stood that it was a nasty one, even if it wasn't too large- it was bleeding much more than a typical knife wound, and showed signs of a burn. Probably from some type of advanced weapon tech, most likely a laser knife. She saw a lot of injuries like this on soldiers and pilots who got into some crazy tumbles with space terrorists and outlaws. If infected, it could be hell for him.

"Oh, cut the bullshit," she remarked moodily at his promise to pay. If he wasn't going to pay, he might as well admit it. She paused before speaking again. "Let's just say you're lucky you're bleeding," Tabea beckoned him to her with her hand, and pulled out her emergency medical kit, setting it down on her desk.

Though a bit hesitant about helping him, Tabea was a healer, and she did have some sort of ethical code about letting people bleed out in her office. When he was behind the desk beside her, she took a small hand cloth from the kit, unfolded it, and poured a strong antiseptic chemical with properties to prevent burn infections. She raised the dampened cloth to his injury, allowing the antiseptic to sink in before turning the piece over and folding it, using it to gather up the blood which was dripping down his arm. With the wound a bit cleaner, she was able to look at it more closely and determine whether or not it would need to be sutured. "What the hell have you been doing since you got this?" she asked, looking at him with annoyance. "You clearly tore the wound open more by moving."

It would need to be sutured. Before that, it would be helpful if the wound would stop bleeding. She placed her hand on the injury lightly and channeled her healing magic into controlling the blood flow. She could feel the start of an infection and the burn, and continued to focus her energy into soothing the burn.
 It was an interesting thing; to be able to feel every detail of an injury- the tears in the tissue, the skin, the blood.. It was an ability that she was accustomed in the way that surgeons became accustomed to seeing the organs within the human body. It was not something a weak willed person would have dealt with well.

Tabea sighed, rolling her shoulders. It would be uncomfortable as hell to work stretching up (Damn tall asshole) to him, so she grabbed him by the arm and manhandled him into her desk chair. "Stay." She ordered, before turning and striding to her cabinets to find some suturing needles.

[Anonymous]

"Oh, cut the bullshit," She snapped, and he couldn't help but grin a little. She had a pretty good idea on his moral fiber, and that saved him a lot of trouble. "Let's just say you're lucky you're bleeding," she remarked before motioning him to come behind her desk. He felt a wave of relief. Medical attention sounded good. He obeyed her command and moved behind her desk, turning his body so the wound was facing her. It was practically sizzling, and an occasional spark would slip out of him. He kept his tongue between his teeth as she worked, not wanting to make a quip and have her stick her finger in him. (He wouldn't put it past her, doctor or not.)

He winced and let out a breath as she cleaned the wound. His body tensed, and he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. "What the hell have you been doing since you got this?" She asked in an irritated voice. "You clearly tore the wound open more by moving," She pointed out.

"Well, no shit," he said, his voice edgy. "I've been, you know, running away from the people who decided it'd be cool to throw a laser knife at me," he said sarcastically, looking at her from his peripheral vision. He watched as she placed her hand light on his wound, remembering the way she did it years ago. He never liked the feeling of a healer using their abilities. It made his skin feel cold and it made his insides shudder. She took her hand away, and the wound felt considerably better, though he had goosebumps now.

She grabbed onto him and shoved him into her desk chair, and he let her. Because he didn't mind her manhandling him a bit. "Stay," she ordered, and he nodded briefly. Where was he going to go? He looked around her office as she started to rummage through her cabinets.

"Is this gonna be painful?" He asked curiously as he looked down at his arm. It was shiny and a violent shade of red. "And is this gonna scar?" He asked a bit more urgently. A scar would be fine, if it wasn't from an asshole with a fucking laser knife, of all goddamned things. He'd had to lie about it in the future.

[Jenny]

Tabea didn't bother whatsoever to hold back a scoff at his words- So overdramatic, she thought to herself as she rummaged through her cabinet of spare medical supplies. "Yes. Get ready for the pain of your life," she confirmed sarcastically. Fact: it probably wouldn't hurt too bad at all. The injury was of a significant size, but it was the gash itself which would need to be sutured was not too bad in width and depth. Her ability to determine the finest details of an injury made it possible for her to tell that the tissue would probably be able to regenerate quickly and thus not scar. Also, it hadn't been too long since the injury, so it would be easy to suture.. Did she mention any of that, though? No.

With gloves, forceps, thread, and a needle, she returned to Micah, who hadn't moved from the seat. She didn't know what she expected. Maybe a nice ballroom dance. After all he was stupid enough to screw up his injury so badly. She placed her supplies down, put her gloves on, and began to weave the suturing thread through the needle before tying it securely. "So, these people who you were running away from..." she started, moving closer to him so that she stood between his legs to access his wound more easily, "...If I know you at all, I'm going to take a wild guess and say they were chasing you for a good reason?" she asked as she placed her hand on his arm, exerting enough magic to numb a small area near the wound. Natural anesthetic, always good, but wouldn't last long. She took the tissue forceps in her other hand and raised the skin of the cut lightly, pushing the needle through in one quick and light motion. She pulled the thread through and created a neat vertical suture. First of... She evaluated the wound.. Four would be enough.

[Anonymous]

"Yes. Get ready for the pain of your life," she confirmed, though he wasn't entirely sure she was serious.
"I doubt that..." He mumbled as he watched her with his golden eyes, not bothering to hide the fact that he was staring and being generally creepy with it. He let out a breath as she came close to him with her needle, her feminine frame positioning itself between his legs. Not a bad position. He could smell her skin, which struck him as a lavender scent. He cleared his throat, trying not to think too hard about it. He was aware she was attractive, but he hardly had time to delve into fantasies at this point.

He felt her numb his skin, though as she pushed the needle through, he winced. It wasn't so much that it hurt, it just felt weird. "...If I know you at all, I'm going to take a wild guess and say they were chasing you for a good reason?" She had asked, though he didn't respond right away. He watched as the needle went through his skin, and the way her hands expertly moved. Maybe he should ask her to become his family doctor.

"You don't know me at all, actually," Micah said, not in a rude way, but in a matter-of-fact tone. All she knew was his name was Micah, if she even remembered that. "I think it depends on whom you ask about this reason. If you ask me, I'd say it wasn't a particularly good reason. Not something to throw your toaster knife at," he shook his head and raised his right arm, running his fingers through his blond hair. "Some people just hold grudges, I guess. Bit immature of a reaction."

Micah lowered his arm carefully, trying to stay still as the pain of the needle going through his flesh increased. He tried not to wince, though it was getting uncomfortable. While this was progress, it was time to think ahead. Where was he going to go after she fixed him up? He couldn't fly Calypso, obviously. He had to keep a good cover, and wandering around the area he was last seen probably wasn't a good idea. His eyebrows creased with an expression of slight worry. He had to think of something. "Where do you live?" He asked casually, wondering if he was pushing his luck.

[Jenny]

Having the ability of physical intuition had always been a great help in surgery, and in suturing especially.. As she worked on the wound, Tabea could literally feel the way in which it needed to be sutured and how deeply and in what position. Experience, of course, in the field was also a huge factor in her actions. She was quick and efficient, and very focused, though she was also listening to Micah talk. She didn't like the guy, or trust him, but she wasn't about to ignore him. After all, she asked the questions, though the only reaction she offered was in a quirk of the eyebrow. "What a pity," she muttered, wondering what he had actually done to piss these people off.

When the skin no longer needed to be pulled by the forceps, she placed them down and rested her hand against the skin to keep the suture tight. By doing so, her intuition allowed her to sense his tightened muscles. He was tense, clearly uncomfortable, which meant that the numbness which she had inflicted upon his arm was wearing off. She took a minute between sutures to redo the magic, then continued. It wasn't a big job, and Tabea knew she would be done soon, but she would rather not have him whining incessantly.

At the unexpected question of residence, Tabea looked up for the first time since she had started suturing. She hadn't realized how close they were, but it didn't faze her. She looked at him with disbelief and amusement. "Are you serious?" she asked, laughing. "Don't tell me you're trying to crash at my place." She laughed again. Micah was actually crazy. He had to be.

[Anonymous]

Micah let out an inaudible sigh of relief as she numbed his skin again, concentrating hard on the electrical current going through his body. He often had to pay attention, or else he'd be shocking people all the time on contact. Which was amusing sometimes, but it got old after a bit. He hated to explain it, anyway.

"Are you serious? Don't tell me you're trying to crash at my place," she laughed. Micah's facial expression didn't change, but he only nodded. He was expecting that kind of reaction, but it was worth a shot, wasn't it? Otherwise he'd think, 'what if,' as he skulked around the city, trying to find a nice dark place to hide for a few days. He weighed the pros and cons of that. Stay in a place with an attractive female, or hide in a dark place... He only had to convince her.

"I'm kind of serious," he said with a pointed tone of voice. There was no sense in begging or sounding desperate. His pride was too large to swallow, anyway. "It'd only be for a few days. Just enough time to fall under the radar again. Plus, my ship is hurting. She can't take flight for at least a few days. That'll be a huge chunk of my credits to fix, and the places around here are expensive as hell," he explained his case as if he had told it a hundred times over. He was tired, and the adrenaline was wearing down. His muscles felt shaky, and his back was sore as fuck. "I wouldn't ask unless it were vital to my well-being, though I'm sure you could care less about that. Respectively. Just thought it wouldn't hurt to ask."

Unless she slapped him in the face, or stuck him with that needle.

[Jenny]

Tabea turned her attention back to the sutures when Micah nodded and began to speak once more. She wasn't sure if she was more annoyed, or surprised, but she kept her expression almost completely indifferent. Micah really was a wild card- it was hard to fathom what was going on in that head of his, especially since she didn't know much about him at all. And for that reason precisely, she was reluctant to help him any further than she already had. She had no reason to trust him, but she did have reasons to be suspicious of him. The first time they'd met, he'd stolen something from her, and not paid her for her services. And since he'd arrived, he'd already tried to lie to get what he wanted, claiming he would pay her back, when Tabea was positive he wouldn't.

In other words, she wasn't likely to open up her home to him for no reason, regardless of his seemingly sincere explanation. Yet, Tabea wasn't a close minded woman. She wasn't the type who made her mind up and stayed fixed on her own ideas like they were religious scriptures. In fact she was open to believing that, perhaps, Micah was being honest. Possibilities were possibilities.

Surprisingly, she did have reason to believe his most recent spiel- When people lied, sometimes their heart rates sped up, blood pressure fluctuated, or certain muscles would tense, usually around the mouth or jaw. None of this happened to Micah. All she felt while she touched him was that he was tired, and his body was not dealing well with the new wound.. For whatever reason- maybe he wasn't very healthy, hadn't been eating right or sleeping well. In other words recovery would be a slippery slope for him, and probably not very comfortable. On the streets? Much harder.

But why care? What business was it of her's? Well, yes, Micah was making it her business by being here, requesting things from her. Was it the doctor in her that made her open to the possibility?

"It certainly wouldn't hurt. But I really haven't a single reason to trust you," she said sincerely, quirking a brow questioningly at him. At last, Tabea finished the sutures and returned her tools to their proper place.

"If. If I had any inclination that I should let you stay at my place, how long would you be there?"