[closed/complete] Characters: Hera (luwalhati) and Theseus (abductorofwomen) Date/Time: June 1 Location: Theseus's hospital room Rating: Low Warnings: Some innuendo because Theseus, even drugged, is a horndog. 8| (lol jk wlu ♥) Summary: Doctor-patient interaction, with a good helping of tenderness and a dash of flirtation.
There were few things more glorious than pain killers. The sleep one got from them, the wonderful groggy feel that had nurses fuss even more. Theseus smiled (a tad dopy fashion) to himself, watching from his bed the hospital workers go in one direction or another. Should one with a fine figure and face peek in, he tended to blow them a kiss.
He had to wonder, however, what he would do if Lena came in again. She needed more than just a kiss. Ahh, dirty thoughts. I'll blame the pain killers.
There were few things more glorious than being very, very good at her job. Which included finding out that one's childhood sweetheart hadn't left the realm of the living. Heels making sharp clicks on the hospital floor, Lena tucked Drake's file under her arm as she approached his room. Every indication said he was on his way to recovery, but Lena didn't trust anyone's medical opinion one hundred percent. Except, of course, her own. There wasn't a damn diagnostician in the building better than she was, and if you found that arrogant, you could go sentence yourself to death under a less capable doctor's hands.
She swept into his room, relishing the effects of her ability (all the nurses stood still or made way for her), even though she didn't even know her ability existed.
"Leave me with the patient," she deadpanned. Immediately, the other professionals rushed out of the room. With a self-satisfied little sound from the back of her throat, Lena tended to his dosages, not letting her eyes linger over him for too long.
"How do you feel, Drake?"
"Like God loves me right now," he mumbled, allowing his own eyes to linger on her. He had no shame at all (which was why he was entirely too comfortable in that hospital gown). He never would have shame and it was a flaw of his that would likely disgust people more than much else. Pity he didn't care at all.
One arm was stretched over his head, a smile too lazy to really be so was set on his face. He may have been drugged but he was feeling near-predatory with her around. "Am I a very good patient, Lena?"
"I didn't think you believed in God," she said dryly, turning to him finally. Content with how the nurses had been managing the former king, Lena took the seat by his bed as gracefully as possible. Almost absent-mindedly, she reached for the lymph nodes at his throat, fingers pressing gently to discern any inflammations or abnormalities.
"A good patient?" She scoffed delicately. "You're the sort of patient that drives my nurses mental, that's what you are."
"It's a casual relationship." He'd been raised to believe in a single God and it wasn't the easiest of things to just ignore. He figured if at least one god still had His place then maybe He was worth acknowledging still. Better than some of the others.
A pleasant hum was elicited when she touched him, his eyes closing part way. "I'm sorry, you'll need to repeat that later when I'm not thinking about how soft your fingertips are."
"They aren't as soft as your brain is right now, Drake." Lena wasn't unused to men making passes at her, so dealing with Drake in this condition was almost second nature. Unfortunately, because it was Drake, a thousand memories intruded that she really rather had been left to their place.
Exhaling in a long breath, she withdrew her hands. "Don't do that again."
A hand lifted and he took a moment to take pleasure in its limited tremble before he placed it over her knee. Letting his eyes meet hers first, he spoke. "It wasn't a choice I made, sweetheart. It was something done to me. I don't damn the others involved as they had about as much choice as I did.
"Know that I love life. Know I would do anything and everything to live. There isn't anything more valuable than a person's life." His thumb absently stroked the curve of her knee (because he could), his mind drifting slightly to other wonderful things. But, perhaps because it was Lena, he allowed himself to come back from those thoughts. "I'm too stubborn to stay dead, I think."
"Good." Quite frankly, Lena didn't give a fuck (Blackwell influence leaking through) if it was done to him or if he didn't have a choice. He had to live, had to find a way out, knowing that she would be there for him every step of the way if necessary. Lena was a woman who knew to count her blessings; Drake, through some miracle of the God he barely believed in, was one of them.
"I'll patch you up every time you come back," she asserted, putting her hand over the one on her knee both in a gesture of comfort and to stop him from distracting her. Then, realising how intimately her promise might be taken, she added, "Mona and myself, that is." And then a softer expression took its place on her features as she gently replaced his hand by his side.
"So rest well."
The amendment may not have been as intimate but, to dear Theseus, he could only smile at the idea of her and Mona (and not in the way she implied at all). Maybe it was the drugs, maybe it was a need to just rest but he let it go without airing his thoughts with his typical brazen grin.
"Come see me before you leave for work, hm?" he murmured, settling and closing his eyes. "So I have good dreams while you're gone."
"All right," she murmured, watching his features soften as he relaxed, unconsciously relaxing herself. He was alive; he was going to be okay. And he was in the best hands she could possibly ask for -- her own.