Both Jamie and Brodie's suggestions and insistence had made Az see the reason in at least stopping Apollon's Grace before heading down to the room she shared with Jeb. It had occurred to her, not long after the ship finally gave up trying to shake off its passengers, that not only was her boyfriend in their room full of breakable items...but that his dog and her cat were too. She dearly hoped that they all were okay.
The makeshift secondary infirmary had yielded a small bottle of ibuprofen (which she would likely be heavily relying on tomorrow), a butterfly bandage on the inch long cut on her cheek, and the itching desire to find Jeb.
A familiar dog's bark ahead only urged her faster onwards, until she was practically running. Which was more difficult than you would think, when it felt like you had gone several rounds with Mike Tyson on a bad hair day. Someone had lent her a clean pair of woman's socks and a battered pair of converse (which her fashion forward mind was trying diligently to ignore the fact that they clashed horribly with her tight black designer dress), a fact she had been quite thankful for. Running or even moving through the ship barefoot would have been nearly impossible, she thought.
Not totally, but nearly.
When she caught sight of her boyfriend sitting shirtless on the floor ahead, leaning against the wall, her heart constricted. "Jean!" Az called, her mixture of worry and relief making her actually call him by his first name rather than a long-used pet name. Worry because she did not know exactly what condition he was in, and there was blood on both him and the seated canine beside him. Relief because she had at least found him at last.