#notice how the usual touch aversed Doctor never pulls away when he gets cup close and personal tho?

[lariskapargitay]

No thoughts; just the Master having zero concept of personal space

[dahliawolfe]

Lost in Thought

Criminal Minds fanifc. Not completely cannon

Pt. 1

Derek was standing next to the open door of the conference room, when Reid rushed in, nearly bowling him over.

“Whoa, kid. Where’s the fire?” Morgan laughed.

“Sorry. I’m late,” Reid replied, making his way to dump his lanky body into one of the office chairs around the table. Gideon nodded at the man, looking more frayed than usual, and that was saying something. Derek looked around, noticing that Hotch and JJ weren’t present yet, and they were usually the first to arrive.

“Where’s Hotch?” he asked Reid, who shrugged at the question, completely absorbed in the file in front of him and the coffee in his hand. As if to answer the question, footsteps approached, and everyone turned in unison, well, everyone except Gideon, who looked like he was very close to another mental break down.

“Team, I’d like to introduce you to Special Agent Greyson Ash, she’s a transfer from our New York field office. Agent Ash, this is Derek Morgan, Dr. Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia, Elle Greenaway, and of course, Jason Gideon. Welcome to the team.” JJ, who was standing behind Hotch, nodded to an empty seat at the table, and the new agent gave her a smile, making her way to the chair.

Derek studied his new team member. She was young. Possibly as young as Reid, and she was gorgeous. Her hair was black ombre, and made its way down her back, nearly to the crest of her hips. Her skin was the color of honey, and her eyes were a deep whiskey brown. And Derek knew immediately that she was the type of girl that you never really forget.

“Ok, team. Wheels up in thirty,” Hotch dictated, bringing the debriefing to an end. “Oh, and Morgan, show Agent Ash to her desk please. It’s the one McCoy gave up.” Derek nodded, gesturing for his new teammate to follow him to the desk seated directly across from his.

“I’m Derek, if you need anything just let me know, Agent Ash.”

“Grey,” she spoke, giving him a small smile. “Just call me Grey, please. Just please don’t call me ‘Kid’ like my last chief did.” She shuddered, making Derek smile. “And that was one of his nicer nicknames for me.”

“Hi, I’m Spencer….Dr….Reid, everyone calls me Reid,” the young doctor introduced, approaching the new BAU member.

“Hi, I’m Grey. It’s nice to meet you, Spencer. Can I call you Spencer? Or do you prefer Reid?”

“No, Spencer is good,” the poor kid was blushing, and Derek could tell that he already had it bad  for Grey. Derek shook his head, not knowing why that bothered him as much as it did.

∞

Derek watched Grey while they flew toward San Diego. She studied the file intently, furrowing her brows and narrowing her eyes at certain parts of it. He also noticed that she was obstinately not looking at Gideon, who seemed to have a mutual aversion to looking at her. And that was curious. Usually, Gideon was a fairly open person with the team. Maybe he just wasn’t used to her yet? Whatever it was, Derek could definitely see it getting awkward.

∞

“Grey, you and Elle can share a room. Derek and Reid. And JJ, Gideon, and I will all bunk separate,” Hotch instructed, doling out the key cards at the hotel. Derek rolled his eyes. The Bureau never sprung for them all to have separate rooms. And he loved the kid, but sharing a room with Spencer Reid was a nightmare. He snored. He was messy. And he kept the damn light on half the night to read his various stacks of files and books he carried around at all times.

“Actually, I’m booking a private room. On me,” Elle stated, handing the key back to Hotch and making her way to the front desk. From the corner of his eye, Derek saw Grey look at the ground and nervously push her hair behind her ear.

“Well….ok. Everyone rest up, we’ll head to the local station in the morning to make formal introductions to the local PD.” As everyone went their separate ways, Derek stooped to grab Grey’s bag and nodded toward the elevator.

“We’re neighbors. I’ll walk you up. And don’t worry about Elle. She’s…”

“A bitch?” Grey finished, grinning.

“Most definitely. But she’s also a decent agent.” The two made their way into the elevator, and Derek noticed Grey rubbing her hands nervously on the white fabric of her suit pants. “You ok there, Grey?” he asked concernedly.

“What? Oh, yeah, I’m just not a fan of elevators, to be honest.” Derek chuckled.

“We’ve all got something, man.”

…

“Listen, Greg, I get it, man. I really do. All these rich people walking around like they own the place, pissing on people like us, who are just trying to get by. They have their noses so far up their own asses that they don’t know what it’s really like, right?” Grey goaded the armed suspect. The suspect who currently had a large knife pressed against Elle’s neck. Grey had warned the team to stay back. She assured them she could talk the guy down, but Derek’s forehead beaded with sweat, and his gut twisted in worry for his teammate.

“They….They just think they’re so damn much better than me! I bet you’re a rich bitch brat aren’t ya?!” the suspect growled in Elle’s face.

“Of course, she is. Look at her, man, coming in here like she owns the damn place. Breaking the rules cuz they don’t suit her. Hell, putting me in danger to drag her stupid ass out!” Grey sympathized.

“Exactly! Spoiled! All of them!”

“Greg, let me tell ya something, Buddy. If you kill her, she’s just gonna get what she wants. Attention. She’s an attention whore. So, why don’t you let her go? Hmm? Look, you can even take me.” Almost imperceptibly slowly, Grey began to move her hand to her gun. Derek was analyzing her every move, making sure that she knew what she was doing.

“But, she’ll be dead, so is that really a win?”

“Well, I guess, it depends on what you consider a win there, Greg.” And that was it. There was her moment. Greg shifted just enough for Grey to get her kill shot in. And she took it, moving faster than Derek could even see. Putting one bullet perfectly in the center of Greg’s forehead. His face contorted in shock as he slumped to the ground, nearly pulling Elle with him. Grey reholstered her gun and unclipped it from her belt, stepping over to Hotch and placing it in his hands. It was protocol for an agent to give up their gun until the shooting was officially deemed just. Most people fought it, but with grace, Grey handed over her piece, nodded at Hotch, and made her way to the rest of her team.

“You good?” Derek questioned, as Grey made it to the team.

“I’m ok,” she replied, giving him a small smile, and gently squeezing a very pale Reid’s hand.

“Ash, alright?” Gideon questioned, speaking to the newest team member for the first time. Grey grimaced and gave a curt nod, turning back to Derek and Reid.

∞

“Listen, you don’t know a damn thing about me, ok, Ash?! So, keep it to yourself!” Elle hissed.

“Keep it to myself, Greenaway? You went in there half-cocked and not knowing what the hell was happening. So, maybe you should learn to say thank you,” Grey replied coolly, never once raising her voice.  

“There a problem here, Ladies?” JJ asked, approaching the two. The team was making their way to the jet, and the majority of them were already standing on the tarmac.

“No, I think we’re good, JJ,” Grey replied, walking away from the other two women.

“What was that all about?” Derek inquired, passing Grey a paper coffee cup.

“She doesn’t like me,” she replied, shrugging her shoulders. “Hey, I don’t really know anyone in DC but you guys, and this case was a bitch, so I was thinking of grabbing a drink when went get back. Wanna join?”

“Sure. Sounds good to me.” Derek couldn’t quite understand the rush that swooped through his stomach at her words.

∞

Grey took her rum and coke to a nearby couch and plopped down. She felt under dressed at this place, as she was just in a white tank and jeans. Most of the girls around her had on outfits so tight, Grey wasn’t sure how they had gotten them on. She spotted Derek at the door, flocked by Garcia and Spencer, so she waved, sending a smile to the older male. He returned it and nodded, gesturing to the bar. Reid appeared before Derek and Garcia made it away from the bar with their drinks.

“Hi, Spencer! Come sit!” she invited, nodding to the couch. He nervously perched next to her, and she chuckled. “You good? You look a little out of sorts?” He blushed and looked away.

“This isn’t really my scene.” She gave his knee a sympathetic squeeze and spoke reassuringly.

“Yeah, mine either, but I was in that interrogation room for 6 hours yesterday, and I need a drank.” Spencer laughed outright, and Grey couldn’t help but find him adorable.

…

“You sure you don’t need a hand with her?” Grey asked, laughing. Garcia was hanging around Derek’s neck singing, “Coconut”.

Derek shook his head in mock sternness. “Nah, I’m good. You sure you can get Pretty Boy home?”

“Yeah. It’s on my way. See you tomorrow?”

“Absolutely. See you then.”

∞

While she hadn’t drank much the night before, she was still sluggish the next day, so she grabbed an iced coffee on her way to Quantico. She hoped that the day would be all reading files and filling out paperwork, and not another case, because she was still on edge from the last one, and Grey only liked to go into a new case clear headed and cool. But from the moment she stepped onto her floor, she knew her hopes would be dashed. There was bustling all around, and Hotch was standing on the balcony overlooking the bullpen, waiting on the rest of his team to arrive.

Reid, Elle, and JJ were already milling around. Grey stopped to take stock of the room. Reading the tension on the boss’s face, as well as on JJ’s, she knew it was bad. A warm hand touched the small of her back, making her jump, only to turn and see a smiling Derek Morgan looking down at her.

“Looks like it’s gonna be a rough one,” he commented.

“Looks that way. I guess we should go in then, huh?” He nodded and followed her into the swarming bullpen.

∞

The air in Electra, Texas was hot and soupy. And Grey immediately pulled her jacket off, tossing it over her tank top clad shoulder and slipping her aviators down to rest on her nose as she followed the local officer to the crime scene. Derek reached a hand up to her to lead her down the gravel lined embankment. She could already feel the sweat running down her back to settle in the waistband of her jeans, and she did not miss summers like this.

“Damn, it’s hot,” she commented once she reached the bottom.

“Sure is ma’am. Gets like that here,” the officer joked.

“I remember. I’m from around here. And I must say, I do not miss this,” she chuckled before crouching down to study the area that had been roped off. “I’m thinking this is just the dumpsite, right, Derek?”

“I think so, yeah. Although, the first crime scene from 6 months ago, looks like it might have been the primary.” Raising her brows, Grey reached for the file to study it.

“You’re right. I guess the guy figured out it was safer to dump them and leave. But why on the side of the road? 4 different roads and 6 different victims.”

“I think when we figure that out, we’ll figure him out.”

∞

Mason Anders lived in tidy little duplex right outside of town. He seemed like a likeable enough guy, and seemingly had no connection to the other 5 victims. All in all, nothing seemed to be clicking, at least not for Grey anyway. Not yet.

“Ash, a word,” Gideon spoke, barking at her as he stepped into the house. She laid the stack of mail she was sorting through down and followed him. She dreaded this conversation. They made it to the Yukon before he spoke again. “Listen, you’re just off of a shooting, and this is a hot case. I’m suggesting that Hotch send you home. You’re not ready.”

“I’m plenty ready. I’m also not the one whose psyche we need to be worried about,” she snarled, taking the dig deep, before storming back into the house. He didn’t follow.

Grey leaned against the counter, letting out a sigh and rubbing her temples. Frustration built inside her. Jason Gideon, of all people, had no business worrying over her safety. He hadn’t the last 26 years. Why would he now?

“You good?” Derek asked, approaching her.

“Yeah, I’m…”

“Reid and I are headed back to the station,” Gideon informed, walking through the front door, not looking at Grey. Derek nodded, though he studied both Grey and Gideon.

“Ok, what’s going on with you two?” the elder agent questioned once the other two males were gone. Grey sighed again.

“Jason Gideon is my father. Well, hardly. But biologically speaking, he is,” she admitted. Derek’s brows rose.

“What?” he asked in disbelief. Grey nodded.

“My mom’s a cop in Dallas. He met her on a case. They worked together for months until they cracked it. And he split. A few months later, she found out she was pregnant, and she told him. He noped out, and the rest is history.”

“He didn’t want to help raise you? To be a part of your life?”

Grey snorted. “Hardly. I’d just bring him down while he was trying to save the world. He’d send a Christmas card every year and if he was in Texas on a case, he might drop in if he wasn’t too busy. But he didn’t want people knowing I was his kid. He explicitly told me never to call him “Dad”. So, my mom raised me, and I followed in her footsteps. When Quantico originally recruited me, I was hesitant because I knew he was in the Bureau, but as my mom said, I was already a better person than him, so I might as well kick his ass at being an agent too. So, here I am.”

Derek smiled. “I think I need to meet this mom of yours. She sounds like my kinda lady.” Grey beamed.

The days drug by, and the bodies piled up. The team had been in Electra for nearly three weeks. And the guy wasn’t slowing down. If anything, he was devolving and becoming even more violent. Everyone was on edge. The incessant, sticky heat wasn’t helping matters. Grey was sitting in front of the open window in the conference room, trying to convince herself that she did indeed, not need to get a cigarette. She had never been much of a smoker, but one or two now and again would take the edge off. She was chewing wildly on her coffee stirrer when she heard Spencer chuckle. She eyed him suspiciously.

“Yes, Spencer?” she questioned, turning to face him fully.

“You just look like you’re trying to chew through that thing,” he replied, pointing at the chewed up black stick.

“Ehh, I need some gum. You don’t have any gum, do you?”

“No.”

“There’s a convenience store around the corner,” Derek added helpfully, coming into the room. Grey bolted up from her seat, suddenly dying to be out of the stifling office.

“Sweet. I’m gonna run down. You guys want anything?”

“Ohhh, I’ll take one of those cold coffees,” Spencer declared, lighting up. Grey laughed.

“I gotcha, Buddy. I’ll be right back.” She headed for the elevator as fast as her legs could carry her.

…

Grey stood in line, arms laden with a variety of snacks, and waited her turn. When she finally made it to the register, she nearly dropped everything trying to get it up to the counter. The cashier gave her a smile, and asked, “Will that be all for you?”

“Uhh…Actually, add a pack of Marlboro reds and a lighter on please,” she blurted out, unable to stop herself. The guy nodded, and she flashed her ID, before swiping her card, gathering her bags, and making her way out of the store, already ripping into the cigarettes. She had barely lit the one she had shoved between her lips, when it was plucked from her mouth and tossed on the ground, only to be crushed by the steel toe of a work boot. She looked up angrily into the eyes of a very annoyed looking Derek Morgan.

“Derek, what the hell?! Those things aren’t cheap!” In reply, he simply nonchalantly held out his hand, waiting for her to place the rest of the pack in them. “Nooo,” she whined. “I need them, Der.” He shook his head and simply stared her down until she sighed and slapped the pack into his palm.

…

The flash of cameras was nearly blinding as Grey and Derek led Otis O’Reilly into the Electra police station. After a month-long manhunt, the BAU had cracked the case. Derek shouldered their way through the crowd, sneaking her a winning smile. Grey knew that this one felt as good for him as it did for everyone involved. 23 bodies lay in his wake, but now he would see his day in court. And honestly, Grey felt like she might get some sleep for the first time in a month.

…

“Derek, you really don’t have to come with me,” Grey said for hundredth time that day. She was headed to Dallas to pop in and visit her mom before they made their way back to Quantico. Hotch had given them all a few days off to rest and recuperate. And Derek had offered to make the trip with her.

“And I told you, I wasn’t letting your tired ass drive to Dallas by yourself. Look, I don’t have to meet your Ma if you don’t want, but I’m going with you.”

Grey laughed outright. “Well, you’ll be the first guy that I’ve ever introduced to Mami in any fashion. And she’d kick my tired ass if I brought you with me and didn’t introduce you.” Something about that made Derek proud.

…

“Mami, really, you won’t even be at home anyway. And I’ve already booked our rooms,” Grey negotiated later that night, as her mother tried to convince them to just stay at her place.

“Greyson Radley Ash, it ain’t right. You paying to stay somewhere when I got room here,” Gretchen Ash argued, making Grey blush.

“Mami, no,” the young agent chided. She caught a glimpse of Derek, to find him trying to contain his laughter. “Look, we’ll meet you tomorrow at that little Mexican place you used to take me to as a kid. El Fuego. 12 o’clock?” All the while, Grey was pulling away, hoping to make her exit. Gretchen nodded with a stern glare.

“You both better be there. You know how we treat guests, Greyson.”

“Yes, Mami.”

…

Sliding the tight denim over her hips, Grey made her way to the mirror. It was true that she tired. But she was also wired. Being home, seeing her mom, getting back in touch with her roots, it all made her feel amped. She was heading down to the club on the second floor of the hotel. Nothing a little rum and thumping music couldn’t wipe out of her. She grabbed her room key and headed out, taking a left and heading to Derek’s room, which was three doors down. Maybe he’d want to go too. She knocked, waiting on him to answer. She nearly choked when he finally did. He was shirtless, and his beautiful caramel skin was dripping water all the way down to the towel wrapped loosely around his waist.

“Grey, everything ok?” he asked, immediately on alert.

“Ummm. Yeah, I’m…ummm…actually headed down to Mirror for a bit and wanted to know if you wanted to come.”

“The club?” he asked with a chuckle. “I thought you were tired.”

“I am, but being home…well, it makes me want to soak it all in while I’m still here.” He nodded.

“I’ll meet you down there in 5.”

…

Derek made his way into the club. He scanned the room and found Grey dancing to the music in the corner. She made eye contact but didn’t stop dancing. He laughed to himself and made his way to the bar.

Soon enough, Grey came over to him and tugged him onto the dancefloor, not dropping his hand until they made it to the middle of the crowd. “Come on, Derek, it’s just us here. Dance with me,” she urged. And dammit, he couldn’t say no to that.

Derek’s hands were warm on the tender skin of her ribs as they danced. He definitely knew what he was doing, and the feeling of his body against hers was doing things to Grey. The beat suddenly slowed, and Derek tugged her flush against his chest, his hand over her navel, and Grey isn’t sure what happed next, but she knew that her body responded, her hips moving sensuously against his, her hand cupping the back of his neck. And holy shit, she felt like she was burning up, when he put his lips against her ear and chuckled. “You’re really good at this,” he breathed. The air was electric as it kissed against her skin, every nerve on fire. Every hair standing up. In response, she pressed her body closer, letting the soft, slow rhythm of the music lead the sway of her hips.

Soon enough, the song ended, and the tempo picked back up. The spell was broken. Derek pulled away, now only holding her hand, as he led her to the bar. She knew she probably looked terrible, her skin flushed, sweat sliding down her neck, but she felt like she’d never felt before. A high that she didn’t want to come down from.

…

Grey and Derek had been in the club for nearly 2 hours, when he suggested that they turn in for the night. Grey nodded, following him to the elevator.

Once the doors closed, Derek and Grey were truly alone, for the first time, and well, the magic that had weaved itself around them earlier, was sparking through the air. Suddenly, Derek was crowding Grey against the elevator wall, harsh breaths hitting her lips. “I shouldn’t do this,” he panted. Feeling like she was on fire, Grey roughly grabbed the back of his neck and drug him to her lips, crashing against them. Derek’s hands found her hips, anchoring her to him. She moaned into his mouth, and she knew, and he knew, that it was too late. There was no stopping it.

“Room?” he demanded.

“Mine,” she panted, pulling him back to her.

…

Derek was nearly carrying Grey by the time they reached her room. He slid the key card from her back pocket and unlocked the door. He slammed it heavily with his booted foot, as he lifted her by her thighs and made his way to the hotel bed. She bounced lightly as he dropped her onto it. She looked up at him with flushed cheeks, messy hair, and lust blown eyes. And he had never seen anything more beautiful. He knelt over her, taking her boots off for her before working her jeans down her legs. He stopped at the black lace boyshorts and admired what he was seeing. She had managed to work her tank off, so she lay before him, all lace and smooth honey skin. He kissed his way from the middle of her chest all the way to the band of her panties before stopping to look up at her. She was gazing at him like he held the secret to the world in his hands, and looking back at her, maybe he did.

He made quick work of his own clothes before grabbing one of the complimentary condoms from the bedside table and coming back to her. He gently removed her bra and panties and kissed her softly as he slid the condom on and began to slide into her. She moaned against his lips, her fingers brushing down his back as he set his pace. He went torturously slow at first, making sure to be as deep in her as he could be before pulling back out and sliding back in. And it had the intended effect. She was falling apart under him. He took one nipple into his mouth and lightly twisted her clit between his thumb and forefinger, and he sprang apart, his name leaving her mouth in a gasp, her eyes meeting his, and her short nails biting into the skin of his shoulders. He eased her through it, knowing that he could hold off long enough to give her more. To make her come at least once more. He lifted her thigh, pulling around his hip, and went in deeper. She began to move her hips against his, and he enjoyed the push and pull of their bodies. She caught him off guard, bringing her arms and legs up and flipping their positions, carefully sliding back onto his length. He propped up on his forearms to watch the scene before him. She gave him a crooked grin, leaning down to kiss him. Her long hair haloed around them both as she began to do sinful things with her hips. He was close to possibly the best orgasm of his life, and if she stopped now, he was pretty sure he’d die. She sighed against the skin of his neck, and he knew she was gone too. She leaned back, placing her hands on his calves and smoothly moving her hips over his lap. She switched up the rhythm of each roll, sometimes making small circles, sometimes just letting her hips languidly glide over him. And it was killing him. Wrapping his arms around her back, he shifted them again, standing to roughly push her against the nearby window and letting himself go. She growled in his ear as he relentlessly pounded into her. The snap of his hips against hers was enough to shake the wall next to them, and when she suddenly bit into his shoulder and screamed into his skin, he knew. He knew she was done, and he knew that he was coming in right behind her. With one more snap of his hips and a harsh grunt, he came harder than he had in his life, his vision going black. They panted against one another for a few moments before he pulled out and carried her over to the bed, laying her gently under the covers and sliding in beside her, drawing her into his bare chest.

…

Grey woke the next morning to her phone chiming. She checked the time and groaned when she saw that it was nearly 11 a.m. Derek’s arm was lazily draped over her waist, and she smiled.

“What are you grinning at?” he asked huskily, raising his head from the pillow.

“Nothing,” she laughed, sliding out of the bed. She grabbed a few things from her bag and turned back to look at him. “I know that last night was probably a onetime thing, and that’s ok. I really enjoyed it, and I hope we’re ok,” she stated, suddenly serious.

“It wasn’t,” he said simply, rising from the bed.

“It…what?”

“It wasn’t a onetime thing. Or at least, I hope it wasn’t.” He gave her a brilliant smile and made his way to the door. “We have to meet your Ma in an hour. Get dressed,” he instructed on his way out of the room.

…

El Fuego was always busy, and that Friday was no exception. Gretchen had parked her cruiser at the side of the building and stood outside of it waiting on them. She smiled when they pulled in and Derek parked the car.

“Hi, Mami,” Grey greeted as she stepped out of the SUV. Gretchen smiled and wrapped her daughter in a hug.

“Hello, Sweetheart. Derek.” Derek nodded at the older woman, offering her a brilliant smile. The detective led the way into the restaurant. Derek placed a palm in the small of Grey’s back, urging her forward, and he didn’t remove it until they were seated inside.

…

After dropping off the rental car the next day, Derek and Grey made their way to the airport. They were about to board the plan when Grey’s phone rang. “Hello,” she answered shortly, digging around for her ticket, which Derek produced with a chuckle.

“Grey, hey. This is JJ. We need you guys to meet us in Portland. We’ve got a case.”

…

You guys want more?! Let me know!

[septic-dr-schneep]

Possible whump scenario- Google has touch aversion. What if Google and Iplier were working on whatever as usual and then Google had a glitch that put him in a lot of pain unless he kept contact with someone?

Oh, that could be interesting! Let’s see...

Everything had been business as usual. Dr. Iplier and Google were slowlybut surely making their way through the endless stack of files that needed tobe archived—various death certificates, biopsy reports and exam notes thatIplier had never gotten around to sorting through all of the chaos of living inEgos Central each day. They maintained a consistent stream of conversation asthey worked, ranging anywhere from reading the reports aloud to complainingabout the others’ poor habits, and then it happened.

“Did you notice that Edgar didn’t bother promoting his business in thelast meeting?” Iplier questioned, sipping at his coffee.

“I did. Perhaps it was Mr. Trimmer’s comment on his financial state that—”The papers Google was scanning slipped through his fingers and scattered acrossthe floor as his sentence broke off, a shrill dial tone erupting from himinstead. Barking a startled curse, Edward very nearly dumped his coffee ontohis notes in his scramble to set it down and clap his hands over his ears.

“What the—?! Google, what’re you doing?!” he shouted over theearsplitting screech. To his further bewilderment, it ended as soon as it hadbegun, allowing Google to lurch forward over his side of the desk.

“—that informed him it would not be received well,” he finished, blinkinghard and shaking his head minutely before slowly bending down to pick up thepapers he had spilled.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”Edward sputtered, gingerly prying his hands from his ears but keeping them inmidair just in case.

“Sometimes my systems have minor malfunctions that require a manualreboot,” Google explained coolly, straightening the stack by tapping its edgeagainst the desktop. “Nothing to be concerned about. It’s a simple fix.”

“Are you sure? Because it sounded like a squirrel with its tail stuck ina cheese grater!”

“It’s a simple fix,” Google repeated.

Brows furrowing, Iplier exhaled tersely, returning to his coffee so itcould calm his residual nerves as he grumbled, “Well, let’s hope that you don’thave another minor malfunction the next time—”

“It’s a simple fix.”

“You said that.”

“It’s a simple fix.”

Warning bells were going off in the back of his mind as he half-rose fromhis chair, venturing cautiously, “Google?”

Even as he approached and bent down in front of him, his friend didn’treact, staring straight through him with glassy, half-closed eyes. Biting hislip, Iplier fished through his coat pockets for his penlight, gingerly clickingit in front of his eyes and wincing as the light reflect off the rim of hisglasses back at him. Giving up on that just as quickly as he’d gone to it, hetossed the pen onto the desk with a clatter, gripping Google’s shouldersinstead.

“What’s going on with you?” he murmured, unease and worry tearing intohis stomach simultaneously.

“It’s a simple fix. It’s a simple fix. It’s a sim—sim—sim—p-p-p-p—”Pupils contracting and dilating in rapid succession, the android twitchedlightly, gears in his core churning with an audible crunch.

“Hey, hey!” Iplier barked, his heart lurching into his throat as he droppedto a crouch and jostled him. “Google, can you hear me? Why’re you in a loop? Snapout of it!”

Google twitched a second time, harder than before, and then coughed, nearlyknocking heads with the doctor as the force of it threw him forward, dislodginghis glasses and sending them to the floor. Mere seconds later Edward gasped,tearing his hands away as a surge of searing heat poured through Google’s skinand he coughed twice, three times, four times, near doubling over as it becamea chain of wracking explosions. Iplier mouthed a question but no soundsurfaced, brows knit in disbelief and concern as he hovered uncertainly.

Even when the mangled sounds from his throat eased, Google stayed hunchedover his knees for several seconds, his hair hanging low in his eyes as hisfans whined for air.

“Google?” Iplier whispered again, snatching up his fallen glasses. Theyounger Ego took them when they were offered, his hand shaky as it darted out.He didn’t put them back on, instead squeezing them tightly enough that theframes squeaked beneath his fingers as he pressed them against his knee.

“My—my apologies,” he rasped, static laced through his voice as he slowlylifted his head, allowing the other to see his dark eyes flashing blue. “Iexperienced a g-glitch.”

“Well, I can see that much!” Iplier exclaimed, reaching out and cuppinghis jaw despite his visible flinch so he could examine his face. He winced ashe did so, his fingers twitching back on impulse. “Hh—you’re too hot, you’reburning up! What’s happening to you? What’d the glitch do?”

“It’s t-t-temporarily overridden my sensory net, sending mixed messagesabout my t-temperature,” Google ground out, staring straight past him at somepoint on the wall with narrowed eyes. “My systems are trying to flush it outb-but the purge is only at fifteen p-percent. Until it finishes, I will have t-toendure the effects.”

At those words Edward stilled, echoing sharply, “Effects? What effects?”When Google refused to look him in the eyes, he promptly drew his head down,persisting until he finally relented. “Google, how much pain are you in rightnow? Where on the scale?”

Peeking at him through strands of his hair, Google clenched his teeth,his jaw working under Edward’s fingers as shivers trailed up and down the restof his frame. “…Eight.”

Cursing, Edward released him, moving to level himself to his feet andthen reeling off balance when Google’s free hand lashed out, latching onto hiswrist. His grip was harsh enough to be painful, but the doctor was too startledto pull away. He had a feeling he wouldn’t have been able even if he wanted to.

“Don’t. Don’t. I—” The android mouthed something that may or may not havebeen censored before forcing his grip to loosen ever so slightly. “I requireyou to stay. It isn’t what I want. It will be…inconvenient. Uncomfortable. Forboth of us, I expect…but I need it.”

“Okay—okay,” he breathed, bending back down. “What can I do? What can Ido to help? Your system doesn’t accept painkillers, Google! Can you die fromthis?”

“No,” Google spat, tightly closing his eyes as the static in his throatdeepened. “I just—I need contact. T-Toremind my sensory net what its p-proper level should be. It may…take some time.”

As soon as he said it, Iplier could hear in his voice that it was anunderstatement. He’d said the purge was only at fifteen percent? He could seeit now: by the time it finished, his knees would have cramps the size of Texasand his wrist was probably going to have some pretty nasty bruises.

The good news? It wouldn’t kill him.

“Alright. Alright, let’s just get you out of the chair,” he decided, slidinghis free arm around Google’s chest to his back and drawing him out as far as hecould. The android remained so stiff that he could barely shift to help himselfalong, wobbling as he allowed his glasses to clatter out of his hand back tothe floor and clutched at the nearest fold of Iplier’s coat. That in and ofitself made him pause. Google had never clungto him before and judging by the deep grimace on his face, he hated that he hadto.

Biting his lip, the doctor shuffled awkwardly backward, murmuringmeaningless encouragement as Google’s legs skidded out from under him and helanded with a thud on the floor. Edward could feel a few seams of his coatpopping as he too was dragged down, his shoes squeaking against the linoleum ashe kicked and protested.

“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind—ow! Okay, the headlock is kind ofpainful so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t…Google?”

With Google’s right hand buried in his hair and his left arm wrappedaround his head, pressing it firmly against his lower side, Iplier could feelthe exact moment when the android dropped to low power mode. His processor wasperforming diagnostics now; he was in his own world. Blinking incredulously,Iplier squirmed as much as he was able and found himself able to shift only afew inches. He was all but lying down sideways on the floor with his headlodged in Google’s ribs.

He could definitely add his neck to the list of cramps later on, he musedbitterly, though those thoughts promptly escaped him as Google automaticallybegan dragging his fingers through his hair, his fingertips humming andtingling faintly as they did so. He didn’t even seem to be aware of the motion;in Edward’s peripheral he could see that Google’s eyes were dim and unseeing.

Contact. It was grounding him, he realized, pressing his lips tightlytogether and doing his best to relax into it. The sooner he did, the soonerGoogle could rid himself of the malfunction and stop petting him as if he werean eccentric mastermind’s cat.

Hopefully no one would happen to come in here and see that.

[janeykath318]

Writing On The Wrist 2

You woke up in Medbay, feeling heavy and achy, but not so feverish anymore.

“What time is it?” You muttered to yourself. “Gonna miss my shift.”

Immediately, letters appeared on your wrist again.

“It’s 1400 hours and you aren’t going anywhere until I clear you.”

Before you could think of a smart reply, the CMO, your very own recently met soulmate, appeared by your bed. Now that you could see more clearly, he looked even more stunning: tall, broad-shouldered and and very tan for being on a starship.

“How ya feeling?” He asked, checking the readout on the biobed.

“Not so awful. Thirsty,” you managed.

“You want to try some water? Think it’ll stay down?”

“I’ll give it a shot,” you shrugged and sipped cautiously when he handed you a cup.

“Thanks, Doctor. I was really in a bind.”

“Yeah, you were. This strain hits hard and fast and if you’d waited any longer, the fever would have become extremely dangerous.”

“Yikes,” you shuddered. “Thank goodness I was in good hands–legendary, in fact.”

The doctor’s face was exasperated, then amused, then slightly smug.

“I should have kept my mouth shut that day. Between Carol and Jim and Nyota spreadin’ it around, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“I would imagine that there’s some truth to it, though, being a surgeon and all.”

You were definitely on the verge of flirting, but heck, it was your soulmate, after all.

“That’s for me to know, and you to find out,” he murmured, winking at you.

Up close, his face was even more interesting and expressive than you’d noticed before. There were lines in his face that told of a somewhat turbulent life, but also dimples that hinted at a fabulous smile.

You decided that you could have done a whole lot worse when it came to soulmates despite his initial rejection.

“Now that you’ve met me, do you still feel averse to the idea of soulmates?” You ventured. “Because I’ve actually really enjoyed “talking” via wrist writing and you’re really not the terrible person you claim to be.“

He sighed and looked at you with a weary and somewhat torn expression.

“Honestly, no, but we’re on different shifts, so if we want to hang out, we’ll have to get clever.”

“Not a problem,” you said, relief filling you. (You weren’t sure whether it was him or that you didn’t have to puke finally.)

Leonard thought about you a lot over the next few days and was definitely becoming open to the soulmate thing. He could admit to himself he thought there might be something to the whole destiny thing, given how much he’d come to enjoy your wit on his arm and he did find you very attractive in person, even though you were sick. So he set about to rectify his earlier hasty judgment and get to know his soulmate.

It was harder than he thought, given the mismatched schedules and and the hole he’d dig for himself with his stubbornness, but at last the two of you figured out times to get together.

He’d even tried to clean up his language a bit so fewer swear words would end up on your body. If Chapel looked at him knowingly when he used a substitute instead of his usual curses, well, who cared?

Jim came down to see him one day and informed him he was going to be with the landing party for the next away mission.

“There’s some kind of illness spreading down there and I want you there to see if you can help. It’s a swampy planet, so wear protective gear.”

Leonard sighed. “When do we leave, Jim?”

“In three hours. Meet me on the transporter pad at 1400 hours.”

That evening, you were enjoying your off weekend, having earlier traded with another officer. You had finally put the flu behind you and had settled down to watch holovids of crime shows. Halfway through the second episode of “Starfleet Criminal Investigative Services” you began to see some bizarre bits of dialogue coming across your wrist.

“I told you I don’t know anything…..” “I’m a doctor, not a guerilla…..” “Don’t hurt her….she didn’t do anything wrong….” “We’re trying to help your people…..AAHH!!” “Dammit….”

You bolted out of bed and tried his comm. No answer. Fear for him rose the more these ominous fragments appeared and disappeared. Leonard was in trouble, possibly being tortured. You had to find out what was going on.

Seeing the captain on the bridge, looking like thunder and barking orders right and left, you knew something was definitely wrong.

“Excuse me, can I talk to the Captain?” You asked the yeoman, who was hustling about. “It’s about the away mission.”

“Is it important? Because we’ve lost contact with the away team.”

“I guessed that,” you said. “I may have some information for him.”

He looked at you weirdly, but brought you to the captain.

“Sorry to other you, Sir,” you began, “but I’ve heard from Doctor McCoy. Something awful is happening down there.”

The captain’s eyebrows were bushy peaks of skepticism, but he breathed deeply and restrained himself from yelling at you. The stress was really getting to him.

“How in the world did you get in touch with him?”

For answer, you pulled up your sleeve, exposing the writing on your wrist, which was coming through in random spurts of curses and pleas.

“Captain, the doctor and I are linked by a soulmate bond. I can see every word he says. I’m very worried about him right now.”

Kirk leaned forward and read some of the writing for himself. He frowned and clenched his fists.

“That’s not good. How long has it been like this?”

“Maybe twenty minutes? At first I couldn’t make sense of it, but then it became obvious they’d been captured.”

He nodded at you. “Bones, you’ve been keeping secrets from me,” he muttered under his breath. To you he asked “Can you ask him where he is? We’re having no luck scanning for them. Spock’s being trying to connect with Uhura through their bond, but she seems to be unconscious or shielding heavily.”

This doubled your fear. Nyota had been captured, too. You swallowed through a lump of dread and nodded.

“I’ll try.”

Of course, if Leonard was unconscious or had his arms tied behind his back, he wouldn’t see it, but you went ahead and spoke.

“Leonard, what’s wrong? What happened?”

Nothing.

“Leonard, are you alive? Can you talk to me?”

Finally a reply came.

“We’ve been captured. They’re more afraid of us than the plague that’s killing them. I’m in a cell in a cave system. Don’t know where the others are. They’re trying to pump Uhura and I for information.”

“Did they hurt you?”

“Nothing I can’t handle. I keep hearing screams from the other rooms and it’s driving me wild, not being able to get to them.”

You and Jim exchanged a worried glance.

“Tell him to hang in there. We’re sending a team down as soon as possible. There’s only one cave system big enough to be a prison down there.”

You related this and could almost imagine Leonard’s nervous twitch at hearing Jim’s bold plan.

“Just be careful. This place is crawling with guards. Tell Jim not to do anything stupid.”

You held up your arm to the captain again. He snorted and gave an exasperated sigh.

“Why does he always think I’m going to do something stupid? If saving his hide takes some stupidity, well, I’ll do what it takes and deal with his wrath later. You in?”

You nodded.

“Okay then. But first, how’s your combat skills?”

“Decent, but I’m good at communications.”

“So I’ve heard. Uhura’s said you’re one of the best we’ve got and she wants you moved to Alpha shift.”

Your cheeks warmed at such high praise from the best linguist in the Fleet, but the anxiousness about her and Leonard soon returned in full force.

“How soon do we leave, Sir?” You asked.

“As soon as I get a team together and prepped. That information you got about the cave completely changed the game. Thank you, Lieutenant.”

“It was the bond. Thank goodness for that.”

“Yes,” Jim smiled. “And I can’t wait to get him back here for you. Maybe having a soulmate will make him less grumpy.”

“It didn’t at first,” you retorted, “but I think he’s starting to actually like me.”

“If he didn’t, I’d be very disappointed in him.”

After a thorough briefing, the away team was beamed down to an area not far from the cave system entrance. The planet was very rocky, with little plant life and strange hulking vulture-like birds swooping and soaring everywhere. Jim had brought Spock and six security officers who immediately began scanning the horizon for signs of life.

“Nothing within 200 meters, Captain,” reported a redshirt.

“Strange,” Jim muttered. “This place was crawling with them before we came down.”

“Maybe they’re all inside now,” you theorized. Torturing Leonard, probably.

The fight to get in wasn’t as hard as you’d expect. The aliens weren’t used to enemies who fought back and scattered with loud shrieks. As you went deeper into the caves, your wrist began to get warm, meaning you were getting closer to Leonard. You stuck close behind Jim, phaser at the ready. The caves were dark and winding and very confusing. You’d stopped at a fork in the road, unsure which direction to take, when Spock spoke up.

“It is the right fork. Nyota has been advising me.”

“She’s still alive?” You blurted out.

“Yes, but time is of the essence. She fears they may kill the doctor.”

“Let’s get a move on then,” Jim said, stern face not giving away anything he was really feeling.

After several more turns and scuffles with guards, you found Nyota and nurse Chapel in a cell. Christine appeared to be mostly unharmed, but the lieutenant was definitely worse for wear. One of her arms was tied up in a makeshift sling and there were bruises and cuts all over her face.

“Hey guys,” she said, mustering a smile. “Glad to see you, even you, Captain.”

Spock wasted little time in breaking the lock and freeing her, frowning as he looked her over.

“Do you require assistance, Nyota?” He asked.

“I can walk, Spock,” she assured him. “It’s mostly my arm and side. You should see the other guys.” She gave a smug grin that boded ill for the alien captors, but it slipped off quickly when she saw you standing there.

“Y/N! I’m so sorry. They took the doctor away for another “questioning” a few minutes ago. Have you heard from him?“

Your wrist was still warm, but no words had appeared for ten minutes and you guessed Leonard was unconscious.

"Up until ten minutes ago. We need to find him soon.”

“Right,” Jim said grimly. “Point the way, Lieutenants.”

You were afraid to ask Chapel what they’d already done to him, the look on her face was so concerned.

Leonard was trying to catch his breath after another round with the whips, when he felt his wrist grow warm and saw words that gave him hope.

“Hold on, Leonard. I’m coming.”

He didn’t dare say anything, since the guards were still hovering over him, but he felt better and tried to focus on his mental pictures of you to pass the time.

Presently, there was a zapping noise and both guards hit the floor.

“Bones!” Jim called. “Are you with us?”

“Yeah,” he croaked, lifting his head for the first time in hours. His whole body throbbed and he knew he’d lost a lot of blood from the torture.

A sharp gasp came from outside and he fixed his eyes on yours, which were filled with tears at the sight of his battered, chained up body.

“Len!” You gasped. “What did they do to you?”

Jim blasted the lock apart and you rushed to help him and Spock free your soulmate.

“Not sure you want to know, Darlin’.” He whispered, wincing as the chains were pulled away. You saw his back was a mess and there was blood leaking from his mouth. His blue shirt hung in shreds.

“Did they kick you in the mouth or is that from internal bleeding?” You asked.

“The latter.”

“Hang on for me, babe,” you said, “we’re getting you out of here.”

Spock immediately handed the medkit you’d brought to Chapel, who did what she could to make the trip home less painful for the doctor.

Despite that, he had completely lost consciousness by the time the team made it back to the Enterprise.

You sat with Jim outside Medbay while Leonard was undergoing surgery, both of you pacing back and forth anxiously as the hours passed.

“I’m glad he has you, Y/N,” Jim said at last. “He would’ve died if you didn’t have that bond with him and figured out what was going on. Thank you. I really don’t know what I’d do without him.”

“Neither do I, Captain. Neither do I,” you sighed, trying to hide the quiver in your voice. “What would we do without his big heart, grumpy overprotectiveness and bad metaphors?”

“I heard that…” came across your wrist suddenly.

“Are you awake?”

“Sort of. Feel like I’ve been fighting a Gorn. I want to see you, Darlin.”

“I’ll be down as soon as Dr. M'Benga says it’s okay. I love you, Len.” You whispered the last sentence, hoping Jim wouldn’t hear. He did, but he didn’t say a word.

Len’s reply came swiftly.

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

Smiling happily and blushing at the last word, you nodded to Jim and left to find your soulmate. You were going to make sure Len’s recuperation was as pleasant as possible.

@thewaithfuckingannoyme @kirkaholic123 @medicatemedrmccoy @southernbellestatues @star-trekkin-across-theuniverse @frostingsfics @yourtropegirl

[perksofbeingawaifu]

“logic”

Vulcan Levi comes to Chief Medical Officer Dr. Hanji suffering from a mysterious ailment. What is it? Pon Farr? Mysterious alien spores? Or something a little more banal?

Star Trek AU, ereri, g rated, ~2200 words, tw: needles. maybe based on recent life experiences

When Levi stepped into the sickbay, Hanji’s first reaction was that the Vulcan had come to scold them for the missing core samples taken on the newly discovered planet Oasis.

“Dr. Hanji—“ Levi started.

“I only borrowed them! I promise I’ll have them back to Dr. Arlert within—“

“What?” Levi asked, brows pinching together.

“What?” Hanji’s eyes drifted toward the ceiling.

There was a pause and then Levi appeared to wave off that minor distraction.

“I wanted to know…while we were on Oasis…were there any…was anyone brought aboard the ship with any new ailments?”

It was a roundabout way of getting to the point, Hanji thought. The Vulcan was usually far more pointed (forgive the pun) with his questions.

“Well, there was an uptick in Orion’s Buckle but that’s to be expected, Oasis is very romantic, I heard many of the crew calling it a tropical paradise—“

“What’s that?”

“Orion’s Buckle? Oh…well you know. That’s not the scientific term, just what the crew calls it. It’s a play on words. Like Orion’s belt? It’s a good old fashioned sexually transmitted infection. Some people attribute it to the Orion syndicate’s more seedy locations, but in reality it’s been around for hundreds of years. I had at least five people in here with symptoms. I traced back the source to one young stud of a crew member who I have since disciplined for failing to get treatment. But he and his paramours should be recovered by now. Nothing out of the ordinary. There’s always an uptick in those sorts of illnesses whenever we have shore leave. Why?”

“What’s it look like?”

“Oh. Boils. Pustules. Warts. It’s quite disgusting, but very treatable.”

The tension in Levi’s shoulders relaxed a little.

“Why?” Hanji asked, now a little too interested. “Because let me tell you, that if someone I knew had contracted something on a new planet and had failed to follow proper quarantine procedures, the ramifications could be disastrous as this disease spread throughout the entire crew.”

“You’re the Chief Medical Officer, right? So there’s a doctor patient thing, right?”

“Yes, anything you tell me is completely confidential. I do have to put it in my logs, but—“

“What if you didn’t put them in the logs?”

“That would be a serious breach of Starfleet protocol Levi.” Hanji might be slightly flexible with other rules, but they were quite serious about documenting any and all crew ailments.

This appeared enough for Levi. He slowly slipped his hands out of his pockets and held them, palms up to Hanji.

The skin on Levi’s hands was dark green and cracked, bleeding slightly. It looked like rope burn, but if that were the case Hanji would have tended to it first and written a report. Hanji slipped on gloves and pulled Levi’s hands toward them. Levi winced.

“The skin is tender?” Hanji asked, prodding the skin a little with tweezers.

“Yes,” Levi said, eye twitching as Hanji continued to poke him.

“Any joint or muscle soreness? Gland soreness?”

“I’ve already checked. If it had been in the medical disease logs, I would have treated myself. As such, I don’t know what it is, so that’s why I’m here.”

Why is it, Vulcans thought valuing logic made them smarter than everyone else?

“Well let me take a few samples. I think it’s safe to say you’re on quarantine. Step inside the bubble.”

Levi sighed and stepped into the quarantine zone. Hanji put up the shields around them both and set to work. They took samples, they prodded the tender flesh, they ran their tricorder over his body, and all the while Levi watched Hanji’s movements like a hawk.

“Well I think I can take you off of quarantine,” Hanji said after several long minutes. “It looks like an allergic reaction. You must have come into contact with something on the planet. It’s possible others had the same reaction and dismissed it or it may only be something that’s Vulcans are allergic to. Either way, I have a solution!”

They smeared Levi’s hands with medicated cream. For the half hour that he sat there with his carefully rolled up sleeves, he looked like someone who had stuck both hands into a vat of mayonnaise. When Hanji wiped it off, the inflammation in his hands had all but faded away. The dark green patches had faded so much they were barely noticeable.

“Keep applying this until it’s gone away completely,” Hanji said, handing him a jar of the cream.

All in a day’s work.

<*>

Levi reappeared within a fortnight. “It’s worse,” he said.

Hanji hadn’t even turned around when Levi appeared.

“Really? I thought the cream would—AH!” Hanji quickly recovered by turning their shocked yelp into a cough.

The rash had spread across Levi’s face, concentrating mostly around his mouth. It looked like someone had socked him in the mouth with green putty. His face was slightly swollen and the eyes puffy and heavy with dark green crusting along his lash line.

“Oh Levi, you should have come to me sooner, you look awful!”

He did indeed look a miserable and pitiable figure. He hid it well, but pain can make even the most stoic of Vulcans crack.

“I only came here because I ran out of that cream.”

“Yes, but Levi, you are clearly having a more severe allergic reaction.”

“I’m fine,” Levi said, scratching at his neck. “Just give me more of that stuff.”

“No, we need to do a whole work up here. Find out what it is on this ship that you’re so allergic to. I’m gonna have to do a scratch test—“

“Scratch? As in…needles?” Levi took a step backward.

“No, just a tiny little scrape,” Hanji said.

Hanji had seen Levi take down a drunk Klingon with deadly precision, but he often paled and fled when faced with the biannual inoculations.

Levi hesitantly removed his shirt and Hanji could see there were more marks around his neck and chest. They resisted saying anything, but it almost looked like hickeys. Hanji completed the test and then input the data, scanning him with the tricorder once more.

“So it looks like we have our results. You’re allergic to dust—“

“Isn’t everyone?” Levi snapped.

Well that explained his fastidious nature and hatred of dust. Hanji had wondered if it was a Vulcan thing.

“And human dander.”

“Human…you mean I’m allergic to humans?” Levi asked incredulously.

“It’s not uncommon. That’s why the filters on the ship are so strong, to protect those with cross species allergies.”

“I understand the theory, Hanji,” Levi dismissed. Ugh, Vulcans. “It’s just I’ve never had an issue the entire time I’ve been aboard, why now?”

“Well, it could be that because you are so thorough in your cleanliness.”

That and he was averse to touch. Hanji had extended a handshake to him they first time they met and he had not taken it.

“Or maybe you’ve been working closely with a human? Have you had any physical contact with humans?”

Levi had an amazing poker face.

“Or it could be human saliva. Maybe you accidentally took a sip out of a glass someone else had—“

Levi clicked his tongue at the idea.

“When was your last Pon Farr?” Hanji asked, wondering if nearing the blood fever could have anything to do with his immune system acting up.

Levi’s nostrils flared.

“Well, I’m going to give you an antihistamine for now,” Hanji said, holding out a little cup with a pill in it to Levi. “And then I will develop a series of shots for you that will hopefully—Levi?”

He had taken the pill and run. Hanji sighed.

“Patient declined injections for allergy,” they said into their tricorder before tilting their head back for a quick power nap.

<*>

“I need another pill,” Levi said the next day.

The itching was worse and the skin looked crusty. Hanji wanted to scratch just looking at him.

“You need shots,” Hanji emphasized.

“I need another pill,” Levi repeated.

“Levi you need the shots or else you will build up an immunity to the pill. Any further contact with humans will only make it worse.”

“Then I will simply cut off all contact,” Levi said simply.

Vulcan logic.

<*>

“I thought you were cutting off all contact with humans?” Hanji said.

They had a very naked Levi on the table. The rash had spread to his genitals and for the first time ever Hanji was able to see what an embarrassed Vulcan looked like. Apparently, it looked a lot like a naked Vulcan with a rash on his ass.

“Humans are…persuasive,” Levi licked his cracked lips.

“You need to tell your human girlfriend that you need some time to heal since you refuse treatment.”

“Girl…friend.” Levi did not understand the words. “I will inform them that we may no longer see each other.”

“That’s not what I said!” Hanji called after him as he stalked out of the sickbay.

<*>

“Hey Doc!” Eren waved at Hanji. “Got a moment?”

“Eren! Good to see you! How are you doing? In good health, I hope?”

“Sortof. Look I feel kindof silly coming in, but I have had these allergies driving me absolutely crazy. Look at me, my eyes are constantly itchy, my nose is running, I’m sneezing all the time. I just want to be able to focus. I’ve washed and cleaned my quarters several times. I’ve tried different diets. I’ve had them change the filters in my room. At this point I’m out of options.”

“Okay well let’s do a scratch test for you.”

Hanji gained an odd sense of déjà vu while they performed the test.

“So I’ve got your results and it looks like you’re allergic to dust—“

“Isn’t everyone?” Eren grinned and Hanji chuckled.

“And…Vulcan dander.”

“Vulcan…do Vulcans have dander? Wait, what? I’m allergic to Vulcans? How is that even possible? My sister is half Vulcan!”

“It’s possible because of her half human side that you’ve never had an issue before,” Hanji speculated.

“Well, this explains it. So what do I do? I can’t just…ignore all Vulcans? That’s speciest and also…really difficult because..I’ve sortof been seeing one.”

He was handsome when he flushed like that. Hanji already knew that most people on the ship, no matter the species, found Eren to be quite attractive.

“Good news is all you need is a series of shots. You’ll need to work your way up to a set dose but after that you should only need one every six months.”

“Really? Oh that’s awesome. Thanks Hanji.”

“I can give you the first round today if you’d like.”

“That would be perfect,” Eren said rolling up his sleeves eagerly.

“You’re much better than my last allergy patient,” Hanji said with a grin. “I had a Vulcan sitting in that pod and he was terribly allergic to humans but refused shots for it. It’s sad but there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Eren sat up.

“I’m sorry?” he said.

“Oh, it’s just that species allergies are more common than you might think! Can you imagine being allergic to humans on a ship that is eighty percent humans? And I am a doctor but I can’t just wave a magical wand and make him better. Nope, you need shots.”

Hanji turned around with the injection gun in one hand and tricorder in the other and found the pod empty. They sighed.

<*>

Eren reappeared a half hour later, dragging Levi behind him like a very surly balloon.

“Dr. Hanji is it possible for Vulcans to explode from having intercourse with other non-Vulcans during Pon Farr?”

“…What?” Hanji asked, completely lost.

“He led me to believe this is what Pon Farr looks like,” Eren said, pointing at a miserable Levi. “But you’re just allergic to humans, aren’t you? All you need is a shot.”

“I don’t want a shot,” Levi said, digging his heels in like a stubborn mule.

By the stars, they were allergic to one another. Hanji wanted to burst into laughter.

“Look, I’ll get the shots, you can watch me and you’ll see it’s no big deal and then you get them, okay?”

Levi glowered.

“Please?” Eren begged. “For me?”

Levi relented.

“Here, Eren, you get comfortable in the pod. And Levi—“

“I prefer to stand,” Levi said crossing his arms.

“Right well I’ll just get Eren’s shots ready then,” said Hanji. “Now, you may feel a small—GOTCHYA!!!”

Hanji used the opportunity when Levi’s guard was down to jab him in the neck with the injection gun. Levi let out a howl of surprise but surprisingly there was little damage to Hanji’s labs save for their goggles and one sickbay pod.

“Ow, four eyes, you really got me,” he complained later, rubbing his neck and eating a frozen treat.

This coming from the Vulcan that had walked around with a dislocated shoulder for two weeks and never noticed. Hanji had told him the popsicle had medicine in it that would help the inflammation go down but really they had just given him the sweet hoping a little positive reinforcement might go a long way.

“Eren isn’t complaining nearly as much as you,” Hanji pointed out as Eren ate his popsicle happily.

“I don’t mind. I’d get a million shots just to be with the one I love,” Eren said, crunching on his cherry treat.

Well, that was the second time in as many weeks Hanji was blessed with a blushing Vulcan.