dgray_man | Fic: Downtime

Title: Downtime

Character/Pairing: Kanda x Linalee

Rating: T. Mild swearing? I fail at writing KanLee, and I don't own the series.

Cross posted to 31_days for the 9/11/08 theme.

...

The first thing he notices when he comes to is that they've redecorated the infirmary.

Despite himself, he has to say that he doesn't actually dislike the cream walls. Anything, after all would be an improvement on the last lot of sickly green paint.

The second thing that he notices is that he's actually noticed the change. Its somewhat discomforting to think that he's been spending enough time recuperating in the sickbay to even notice that they've redecorated. At the start, he'd been blithely skipping appointments for stupid things like changing his dressings; after all, at the rate he used to heal, that sort of rubbish had been completely unnecessary.

These days... Never mind.

He'd prefer to be resting in his room. At least, there, he'd have the privacy to do some sword-drills with Mugen. Or at least he'd have something to read. Something to do, besides lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, fluids dripping slowly into his veins.

This sick leave. For an exorcist who’s been living the past 18 years of his life held up solely by the adrenaline in his veins, being stuck in this place is only an exquisite form of torture.

Just focus on Healing. Once they let you out of here you can go and catch up on the training that you've missed.

Even someone to blow up at would be good.

...

It's the sensory deprivation. Ordinarily, he'd not have bothered listening. But, with nothing for him to focus his attention on, he can't quite help but tune in to any disturbance in the ward.

Like hearing the hinges of the infirmary door creak in protest as the door swings open. A rather pointed set of hushed whispers is exchanged just beyond his curtains.

There's a familiar clicking of heels on the stone floors, headed this way.

Damn.

...

The curtains part to allow her entry. Their eyes meet briefly as he acknowledges her. Then he drops his gaze and turns away.

At least she's not carrying anything. It could be worse.

The blow comes out of nowhere. It's not really one he wasn't expecting, given the wrath sparking in her eyes.

What he wasn't expecting was to be clobbered with his parameters chart.

A soft dulcet voice whispers with honeyed menace: "Just remember that only reason I'm holding back was because you're not recovering as fast these days."

...

If anyone else had done what she just did, he'd be looking for his head five feet away in the nearest gutter.

If he'd even let them get that close in the first place.

If it had been anyone else but Linalee, he'd might at least have prepared a sharp cutting retort.

If he hadn't also felt the first hot tear soaking into his bandages.

...

He reaches out to brush the tears away, tugging uncomfortably on the line set in his arm, all the while muttering a mix of something quite unprintable in Japanese and generalized soothing noises in English.

"Do you have any idea how much time you may have left?"

Not to the very hour. Or day. Or year for that matter. Its not as if the bloody lotus was made to be particularly precise. But what would be the use of telling you that. You'll just worry. I don't need people worrying about me unnecessarily.

He'd have said as much, but she's raising the clipboard again. So. If only to appease her, he shakes his head mutely.

"Sorry."

"You are such an idiot." He sees it coming this time. It takes all his will not to allow his battle trained body to duck the blow. When it does hit, the punch is almost a love tap.

Then soft lips press themselves against his. Lips that cling for a while, warm and smooth, before disengaging. When she pulls away, he notices that her breath is coming in short gasps.

Its the damned sensory deprivation. I need to be out training. Damn.

His heart races. Embarrassingly enough, he feels the heat rushing to his face.

"You are an idiot, but I guess I'm a fool."

She leaves in a flurry of fabric, boots clicking on the hard stone floor.

...

If it were anyone else...

But this conversation couldn't have happened with anyone else. Not without Mugen being unsheathed and his point, ah ha, point being made to get the other party to just shut the hell up.

Fic: Downtime

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