SCHORIANS

C.72 - Operation Discharge Denied

Song: My Demons, by Starset.

C48 forced to shut his eyes, Agent F87 pushing the bed trolley and doing quick turns on the way to her lab. Four people crossed the way and she proffered an extremely professional message, clearly different from the aggressive gurney drive.

"Heading patient C48 to Endocrine Disfunction."

"Authorized."

The familiar scent made him prepare all his muscles to dodge from her sudden sexual attack, but the woman shut the doors and left his bed, walking toward her desk with that high heels skill only women were capable of. The piercing sound made him close his eyes and grip the edge of the bed. F87 grabbed two ampoules and pulled the syringe. Unshaken by C48's attempts to escape from possible libido boosters, she locked the bed with her knee, raised her leg, and immobilized him. He was shocked with her move.

"Stay still, please." Her voice was back to her cool flat normal.

"No--"

"This is to calm you down, for hell's sake." Now the pissed off woman was back. "You're acting like a child, I can't believe you were able to do that. I'm impressed and disappointed."

C48 was not listening. His eyes had spotted three black ampoules. He knew what they were for. One dose, and he would surely die quicker than the kid. Dodging from F87, who was focused on extracting the liquid, C48 sprang from the bed and stormed toward the ampoules, saying goodbye to the world in the middle of his dash, aware that he wouldn't have time to--

Her leg kicked down the back of his torso like elastic and dropped the soldier onto the ground. C48 was preparing to react with revolt and humiliation, but the mad woman seized both of his arms, pushed the back of his knees, and pulled him up with no feminine struggle. Shocked, C48 turned around to see exactly what the fuck was that sudden--

F87 slapped his face.

What followed was a straight gaze. On one side, a woman about to let out the deadliest menace so far, yellow eyes firing. On the other side, a much taller dude with no idea how his face looked like. Saying sorry seemed to be the right thing to do, but he didn't know exactly why. Caught in the confusion, he said nothing, the boiling anger forgotten on the ground he fell onto. She turned around and adjusted her messed white coat, stomping her feet with a loud echo. The black ampoules were screwed, broken into dangerous pieces, its content splashed under her shoes. She grabbed all the fragments and threw them in a compact incinerator. Eyes still locked on him.

C48 diverted the gaze, trying to act like that violent female scene had been extremely insignificant, that his left cheek was not burning and probably reddened, that the liquid spilled that was meant to calm him down had not been wasted, the remedy in a small pool around the bed. F87 cleaned C48's accidental mess but left the screwed bed surrounding for himself to deal with. He did nothing, too scared of crouching to pick the pieces and receiving another ninja drive.

All it took was her voice piercing across the room for him to return to his previous state:

"You're definitely out of your mind, C48."

"I'm damn lucid."

She pulled two metal chairs with ridiculous ease and placed in front of him.

"Well, guess what, I'm ten times more lucid than you, so get a grip and sit down."

--

F87 forgot to sit down and looked at the revolted C48, whose arms were, guess what, locked.

"Let me out."

"Tell me what happened." She ignored his low request and crossed her arms, that nasty authority not matching with her messed hair. "Though I know about it, I don't know the details. Though it might hurt you, you must tell me the details."