2237-07-21 - A Small Step Forward

Rothschild comes to check-in on a returned Tavo.

Date: 2237-07-21

Location: Sickbay

Related Scenes: None

Plot: None

Scene Number: 295

Jump to End

Tavo looks like five miles of bad road. It could be worse, though. He could look like ten miles. Stubble blurs his jawline, his shoulders are slumped, and he has heavy bags under his eyes. His left arm is in a sling, and he has an IV running into that wrist, no matter that he insisted he could eat plenty to catch up. At least he got in a hot shower before being fully medic-attacked. Various light bandages are stuck to his skin beneath the hospital gown, at his right thigh, several parts of his hand and arm, the back of his neck, places that he got contusions from the crash or grazes from bullets. He is currently sitting upright in bed, but he is leaning back, his eyes closed, head turned away from where a Picon pilot is dead asleep in a chair alongside a Tauran ECO's bed.

Rothschild quietly enters the small sickbay, nodding to those on staff at this late hour. She is dressed in her off-duties so there's no question why she's here: she's here to visit. She doesn't need to be pointed to Tavo's bed, though she is all the same, and she smiles and nods. There's something tentative in her approach -- almost uncertain -- but they she lowers herself gently onto the bedside nearest his hip. She touches his arm gently, and murmurs, "Tavo?"

Tavo shifts as he sense an approach, but it isn't until Rothschild sits up and touches his arms that he opens his eyes, a little smile melting into his lips as he doubles his right arm up to pat the forearm of her extended arm, "Hey," The softer nickname is on his lips, and then his eyes shift past her to the staff still on-duty, and he substitutes the unsatisfactory, "Roths." He tries to make amends by adding, "You're a sight for sore eyes. And sore most everything else too."

"Hey." The word is a soft return, and Rothschild finds herself smiling a bit more, almost past the limits of her public smile toward something more private. "You look absolutely awful, Gigas." She reaches up to brush her fingertips across his forehead and them down his jaw where her hand gently settles against his cheek. She comforts him there, brushing her thumb across the skin in front of his ear. "Which is better than I thought you may look when I saw you next." She offers another light smile.

Tavo snorts at her complaint, letting his eyes close under the touch of her fingertips, "You should've seen me before they let me shower." That continued touch to his cheek causes him to draw in a slow breath and let it out again, starting to relax, "You mean dead? There were a couple of times I figured it was going that way. Mostly at the beginning and the end." Opening his eyes again, he chuckles, teasing her, "So what took you guys so long?"

"Yes, I do mean dead." Rothschild brushes her fingertips off his face until she settles her touch just at his elbow. There is no covert movements or anything. Just a woman gently comforting her companion as he rests. The teasing words draw a terse snort from her. "We assumed you were doing just fine on your own and we could handle some other business while you fannied about in Havison." Then her smile returns and she shakes her head, saying more seriously, "You were difficult to find, and there was little I could do. I had to leave it entirely on the shoulders of Recon and the Air Wing. And surely you must know how much that pained me."

Tavo lets his hand drop down to the bed as she talks, chuckling at her return teasing before he winces a little, trying to shift his left arm into a more comfortable position in the sling. "Babysitting is harder than it looks. Especially when the kid won't talk." Still, he nods at her explanation, his hand shifting over to touch her leg in a gesture meant to reassure her that he wasn't really complaining. The last words draw his eyes up to hers, slightly widened -- and then carefully controlled -- "Yeah?"

Rothschild starts to chuckle at his complaint, but it is the slight change of his expression that changes her own. She looks down, almost bashful, and shrugs a shoulder. It is a very dismissive gesture for the Leonid and it takes her several moments of silence before she draws up enough courage. "Yes." She looks up at him now, her dark eyes serious. "I missed you, and more than just a friend and bedfellow." She clears her throat slightly. "It is something we should talk about, but perhaps not here and now. You need your rest and time to heal." She curls her fingertips against his jaw then and she lowers a kiss softly to his brow.

Tavo's eyebrows lift at the shy gestures from the Praetorian, and at the initial response, he nods, starting to sit up a little more to respond -- only to trail off as she continues. His hand settles a little more fully at her leg, fingers spreading just above her knee and squeezing gently. "I missed you too, Dora." The words come as she leans in over him, and he tilts his head forward to accept the kiss, letting out a little breath as he does. "You're a damned good reason to come home." He clears his throat a little, looking down for a moment before raising his gaze to meet hers once more, "I'd like to have that talk. When you're ready."

The returned words combined with the gentle squeeze at her leg draws her smile up a bit more. The woman does not fully sit up away from him, but lingers, pressing her forehead against his own in a moment of gentle affection. Then she sits up, and nods. "I'm quite ready, Tavo. There's no need to wait for me in that regard." She starts to laugh, but she keeps it quiet to respect Tavo's sleeping neighbors, casting a glance to the pilot and ECO before she looks back to her fellow Gunner.

His own smile grows as she lingers, and Tavo chuckles along with her quiet laughter, "Well don't hurry me along. Maybe I wanna slow things down." The building grin behind the words shows that he's teasing here, and he squeezes above her knee once more, "They're going to be in soon to check on my shoulder again. If you don't want to be interrupted, we can hold off until I check out."

Rothschild snorts. "You're more than welcomed to reject me outright if that's what you think is best." The response is delivered dryly, but there's a hint of playfulness in her tone. Then she nods at his suggestion. "You do know how I dislike being interrupted." There's a certain coyness to those words, and then she starts to stand slowly from her spot at his bedside. "Our usual place then?"

Tavo grins in response to her snort, "There's not much chance of that. I didn't get hit in the head." There's a pause, and he lifts his hand up to touch the glued-together little cut at his hairline, "Much." His cheeks heat a little at the coy teasing, and he clears his throat before he nods, "Yeah. They're supposed to let me go tomorrow morning. Usual place should be good for... taking inventory."

The warmth at his cheeks draws a small smile of amusement to the Leonese woman's lips. Then she starts to laugh at his code words, and she crosses her arms, now standing above his bed. "Hmph. If you think that you're taking inventory with your current state, you are quite mistaken." Then she leans back over him, and agains he presses a kiss to his forehead once more, murmuring as she's near, "Get some sleep and come find me in the morning."

Tavo laughs more readily now, his right hand coming up to smother the sound out of deference to the others packed into sickbay. "Don't worry," he gets out between chuckles, "I'll shave." And then he gestures between their chests briefly, "Taking inventory. Not..." this time, the gesture is a little lower, "taking inventory." The murmur spreads a softer smile across his lips, and he responds, "Yes ma'am."

Rothschild actually finds herself smiling that full smile at his clarification. She dips her head slightly in a simple nod before she turns from his bedside to depart. She glances over her shoulder once before she dedicates to her retreat, nodding to the medical staff as she goes. She breathes out a little breath when she exits the sickbay and turns to the berthings.


Back to Scenes