A Price Worth Paying

Chapter Forty-eight. Flipping Not Allowed.

FLIPPING NOT ALLOWED.

Sang blinked and rubbed at her temple looking tired. Noticing immediately Sean stood up. "We're having a break. I think we've all been sitting for too long, and I need to make sure you're okay, Sang, so don't even think of arguing about it," he said, moving around the table to put an arm around her shoulders and leading her to Victor's room.

Sang blinked again. "Sean, I don't argue and I feel fine. You don't need to worry about me."

"Oh really. This IS arguing. So can you look me in the eyes and tell me your head isn't hurting you at all, you can concentrate as usual, and you don't feel drowsy?" Sean said, eyebrows raised and a gentle smile on his face. "You forget I'm trained to notice these things, Pookie." He said, softly perching them both on Victor's bed.

"But Sean, on a scale of one to ten, it's only a three. I wouldn't bother anyone with anything so trivial. Besides, I take up enough time and you've got more important things to do than worry about me."

"You let me decide what I worry about, okay. Now, quickly tell me about this scale of yours, Sang. It's important and I want to know."

Sang groaned and closed her eyes. "One to three ignore it. It will probably go away. Four to six you close your eyes for about half an hour, relax and clear your mind. Seven to nine you take a paracetamol and close your eyes for an hour."

"And if you hit ten. Then what, sweetheart?" He asked quietly.

Sang opened her eyes and looked at him with a half smile. "All of the above and pray for oblivion. I've never hit ten, to be honest," she shrugged, closing her eyes again.

"Okay, Pookie. I'm presuming you're at level three, heading for four about now, right?" Seeing her nod, he pulled her down to rest her head on his lap.

"Mmm. Why are you fussing, Sean? It's a simple fix. I've been doing it for years."

"Yeah, well we're here now. In future you tell me. I'm not asking you. I'm telling you. You tell me."

Sang frowned as she thought. "No. I don't think I should agree to that, Sean. It doesn't seem right to bother you. And what if I forget? Then I would have broken a promise to you. I don't like breaking promises, even if I didn't mean to. I'll bet you don't insist the guys tell you if they've got a headache. I don't see why I'm any different. And anyway, I'm not a wimp."

"Pumpkin, I worry about you. We all do. I need to know you're okay."

"Here's a thought for you all, Sean. I'll tell you if there's something to worry about. Otherwise, don't worry."

"Yeah, except you don't."

"That's because there is nothing to worry about." Sang sighed and flipped onto her back so she could look at Sean. "Look Sean, it's an annoying little niggle which will go away if I close my eyes for ten minutes. I don't say anything because it is not a big deal to me."

"Sweetheart, you being in pain is a big deal to all of us. I don't like you hurt. None of us do."

"No one likes seeing someone in pain, Sean. But they don't make a federal case out of it, and if I hadn't been talking so much it probably wouldn't have happened. So if I close my eyes for ten little minutes everything will be fine and I won't have to bother you. Because I can definitely see advantages in not talking much right about now," she grumped, before closing her eyes determinedly.

"This isn't over, Pookie. We're definitely talking more later," Sean whispered in her ear, before making her comfortable and leaving her to sleep.

Walking back out to the guys Sean shook his head. "The more we hear the worse it gets. One thing I will say is that Sang is the most focused and determined person I have ever met. Two years? Jesus. Mind you, that determination is translating into stubborn and argumentative at the moment. So watch your step, boys."