Red Means Dead

Pinch Me

"Sadie, please calm down."

"This is big. This is really big. You never call me Sadie. You only call me by my name when something bad is happening. Is this bad? You can tell me."

McCoy has stopped by my quarters on the way to the dinner to check on me to find me in my current state: zipper half-way up, one boot on, unruly blonde hair like wild golden wattle swirling about my head like a Tasmanian devil. There's a noticeable clunk in my uneven gait as I pace the small space from the door to the bed.

"I tried to get your attention but you weren't responding. I had to take drastic measures. Darlin', everything's going to be fine."

"Promise?"

"Yes," he declares, leaning against my desk and turning to adjust a few things out of his way. "But you've got to tell me what in the known universe and reaches of the Expanse is going on right now."

I press the heels of my hands against my eyes and groan, "My squishy insides have escaped."

He chuckles, "Do I need to be concerned? As your doctor, I'd be happy to give you a checkup. As your fella, I'd be happy to do the same."

I scrunch my nose. "M'okay. I just need to skol a tank of Andorian ale before a good chunder." My anxiety spikes as I think about ralphing all over the Captain's boots. "Oi! I--Imma yak. That's what it comes down to!"

McCoy hooks my arm as I pace past and pulls me to him. I stumble between his knees with a huff but my new location isn't entirely terrible. He gives both of my hands a squeeze and kisses my forehead before leveling me with a good, hard stare. "You've gone into that weird mode that the U.T. doesn't decipher. English, please?"

"Imma fraud."

"Hardly."

"Imma vomit."

"Hope not."

"I need a stiff drink."

"I will, too, if you vomit on me."

"I'm--I'm--"

"I believe the word is 'nervous.' There's nothing wrong with that."

"I know. It's just...You've done something to me."

"Something good, I hope."

"You broke my impervious shell."

"Definitely good. I'm really in love with all your squishy insides."

I chuckle.

"Yeah, that definitely sounded better in my head."

I kiss him lightly and barely break away as my willpower is very weak at the moment.

"I'm okay, I'm okay. A moment of insanity. I just need a hug and to hit something." Wincing, I groan inwardly, remembering that horrible green arm snaking around his waist.

"One of those sounds much better than the other," he drawls, turning so his shoulder is right in front of me.

Grunting, exasperated and emotional, I slug his arm which elicits a startled yawp from him as he turns back with a box in his hand.

"Ease up, woman. I'm a doctor, not a punching bag. That's definitely not what I had in mind." He kisses me soundly before tilting the box toward me, wiggling it back and forth as he rubs his shoulder. "Maybe I should just take my gift back, yeah?"

I touch my fingertips to my lips and murmur several sorrys which makes his smirk grow.

"Just open you gift before you chunder or whatever you said you were going to do."