Aria/Jackson rendezvous

[only_one_rule]

The room had probably been a supply closet at some point; certainly its size and shape seemed to suggest that, as did the heavy shelves that had been bolted to the walls, though they were devoid of anything by the time they had discovered it not far from the living quarters and the barricade they had set up against roving monsters. It added a little thrill to the proceedings to know they were beyond the 'safe zone' and more than once had necessitated a quick retreat when the halls were too full of foes.

Aria slipped into the room to find Jackson already there, just as she had known he would be. She allowed another sly smile as she spotted him, though she turned her attention towards using her biotics to shove the remaining shelf up against the door before greeting him properly. Only once the heavy shelving was firmly in place did she turn, sauntering towards where he waited. "Well now, where were we? Planning an invasion, I believe..."

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[suckmyyankeeballs]

They thankfully managed to make it to the barricade without trouble, and the sentinels on duty just then took charge of the animal while Jackson nodded for Aria to follow thim towards the medlab. It was a nasty-looking cut, but he was mostly worried about whether the creature might have secreted poison.

"Take a seat," he told her with a nod at the room in general, so that she could choose which seat she prefered. There was a table, for their surgeries, but people generally prefered one of the chairs.

He washed his hands quickly, then grabbed a clean rag to clean the wound. They had a few mad devices which Tam had taught him to use, but they were mostly stuck with the basics as Jackson knew them.

[only_one_rule]

Aria sank into one of the chairs - she wasn't about to lay herself out on the dinged-up table like some sort of invalid. Looking over the wound herself she made a face at her own sloppiness and the nanites that swam through her bloodstream; without them she would have had no problem facing down the creature, even alone. She hated feeling weak and vulnerable, and her irritation was such that she snapped at Jackson as he started dabbing at the wound. "Do you mind? I'd rather not lose the arm thanks to your cackhandedness."

[suckmyyankeeballs]

"I don't mind at all, darlin'," Jackson replied without so much as looking up at her. He had dealt with far worse patients than her, and he went about his work indifferently. There was no odd colouring of the flesh around the wound (the purple had long since stopped being odd to him, to become merely exotic), and that was a good sign in terms of poison, but he still let her blood drip into a small vial for later analysis, just to be on the safe side, before he finished cleaning the wound, and grabbed the thread and needle.

[only_one_rule]

She bore the stitching stoically; they had a small supply of anaesthetic but it would have been stupid to use it for a job like this. This wasn't the first time she had needed stitched up, but due to her healing factor was lucky enough to boast few scars from her years on the station. Jackson was a good surgeon, his fingers quick and nimble, and though she knew he wasn't 'taking it easy' on her it was still a relatively bearable procedure.

She surveyed the ripped sleeve of her jumpsuit when he finished, frowning deeply. The likelihood of finding a similar garment any time soon was slim. "I'll need to barter some thread from you."

[suckmyyankeeballs]

"Chiana got her hands on some too thick for us to use," Jackson offered, standing back up to wash the needle and put away the precious thread. "I recommend talking to our local seamstress. I don't want you asleep for the next six hours. If you feel anything out of the ordinary..."

He didn't need to finish the sentence, of course; he hadn't really needed to start it in the first place. Aria was much too down to earth for that.

[only_one_rule]

"I'll be sure to panic and hide away until it's too late to possibly save me," Aria finished for him dryly, standing and tugging on her cuff to straighten her sleeve. Blood and stitches were one thing, but they were no excuse to look sloppy. "I think I'll live, Captain."

[suckmyyankeeballs]

"Well, I sure hope you will, darlin'," Jackson shot back, looking back at her with a smirk. He could only get away with saying shit like that to her because he said it to every other woman on board, too - the ones they had access to, of course - but it didn't mean that he didn't particularly enjoy saying it to her.

[only_one_rule]

If she had had an eyebrow to raise at him she would've; as it was Aria settled for a roll of her eyes. Sentimentality was dangerous, which is why she couldn't thank him for fighting by her side or being there to stitch her up. It was also why she surprised herself by saying, "I'm sure you wouldn't mourn for too long."

[suckmyyankeeballs]

"My entire life, I would feel your absence," Jackson replied, with another twitch of his lips, before he moved to get to what little equipment they had for analysis. If there was anything in her system and he could get to it before it got to her, all the better.

[only_one_rule]

"Well, that's certainly true. Human women are nowhere near as flexible as asari." It was a good thing he was distracted with his equipment so that he didn't see the small smile she gave. "I'll leave you to your investigations - if you need any more samples you know where to find me."

[suckmyyankeeballs]

"Tell Andras to send me its claws?" Jackson requested, without looking away from what he was doing. That was the best sample he could get, after all, and he doubted even Andras could make those palatable, assuming they weren't in fact poisonous.

[only_one_rule]

"I'm not your errand girl, tell him yourself," Aria said moments before stalking out of the room. Despite this claim the claws arrived not twenty minutes later, hacked off at the knuckle and oozing blood. They weren't wrapped up in a bow, but they were as close to a present as Aria ever sent.

[suckmyyankeeballs]

Women, Jackson thought as he contemplated the bloody present with a quirk of his lips. He'd never get the hang of them (although he had a better idea than most men, if he might say so himself), but he wouldn't mind dying trying.