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"What was he doing?"
"You don't want to know." She shuddered. "I need to scour out my brain, get rid of those memories completely."
I chuckled and then winced at the pain that caused. Mimi noticed, of course. Not much got past my Mouse.
"Hold on," she said, eyeing my head for egg-sized lumps, no doubt. Her hands ran through my hair and I almost sighed in satisfaction at the feeling of utter contentment her touch gave me. Then she turned away to rummage through the picnic basket, pulling out a med-device of all things.
"Oh, thank God," I said, promptly sitting down on the side of my bed. "I've put up with a headache for what feels like days."
"Did you take any pain relief?" she asked.
"It's all I had. Paracetamol."
"How've the dreams been?"
I huffed out a breath. Analgesia is the one drug that Surgeons attempted to avoid most assiduously, lest the effects influence their dreams.
"Vivid," I told her and smirked.
She blushed the most delightful colour, but I didn't have time to take advantage of that. The med-device beeped and suddenly the pain in my head that had not been relieved by the medication was suddenly tens times smaller and I could actually, for the first time in what felt like days, think.
"Thank you," I said, sometime later.
"They didn't even treat your injuries," she said quietly, sitting down on the chair by the desk and facing me.
I would have much preferred she was closer; touching distance, for instance. But I appreciated that the situation was not one conducive to those lovely thoughts.
"Yet another way to contain me," I offered.
Mouse shook her head in disgust. "Bloody fucking bollocks," she muttered.
"Indeed," I agreed, grinning like a lunatic. She smiled beguilingly at me. "Tell me everything," I said softly.
And she did. The more she said, the more worried I became. And then she got to the part where she flew with Bryan and Mr Black wouldn't even let them out of the Orion to thwart Sergei's plans, and my mind just stopped working. Couldn't work. Would probably never work again.
"He did what? Hold on, you're an Intern? And Bryan has been reinstated?"
She cocked her head to the side and studied me, concern in her eyes. "Are you sure that med-device fixed things?"
"Yes, yes. I'm fine, but Mimi, you're an Intern? Congratulations!"
She beamed at me and my heart damn near beat out of my chest with how beautiful she looked right then. Inappropriate thoughts slipped through my mental walls of protection, and the most recent dream came back in technicolour behind my closed eyelids.
And then she was beside me, her delicate hand on my arm, a palm across my forehead, no doubt checking my temperature or something.
"Jack, are you alright?" she asked.
Maybe permanent damagehadbeen caused by that knock to the head. Maybe I needed more care than a med-device could provide. A trip to the infirmary was probably in order. But right then, I felt more than alright.
I turned toward her and bridged the small distance between us, kissing her soundly.
Mimi let me kiss her for several wonderful, beautiful minutes, she even kissed me back wholeheartedly, complete with little sexy moans from between luscious lips, and then she pulled back, panting, and said, "That's enough of that, I think, don't you?"
"No," I immediately replied.
But she was right. The guard could walk past and hear us at any moment. RATS was in trouble. Time was on the line. And Sergei had got something in 1958 at Star City.
I stroked fingers through her hair, brushing the locks aside, and then cupped her neck and pressed my forehead to hers.
