Gentlemen Only

Hard Pill to Swallow

The first thing Meredith became aware of was the stabbing headache behind her right eye, and the second thing was she couldn't breathe through her nostrils. They seemed to be clogged with something, and she snorted uncannily, attempting to draw a breath. She gave up and resorted to breathing through her mouth obnoxiously.

As the funk settled from her brain, she sensed a plethora of other things; the room was dark, perhaps because her eyes were closed, her face felt like she'd been hit by a Mack truck, and her arm prickled uncomfortably. There was a faint perfume-like smell in the cool air, and the hum of some sort of machine droned hypnotically in her ears.

Meredith struggled for several minutes to open her eyes. Having succeeded in cracking one open, the obscured outline of a person appeared between her lashes. She groaned as the pounding in her forehead increased tenfold, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out.

"Shouldn't worry your lip like that, lass." A churlish voice teased. "It's all kinds of suggestive."

Meredith tore her lids open, eyes darting wildly around her, heart pounding erratically. She scrambled frantically to get up, tangled in a soft, restrictive object. Something like a rope yanked painfully on her right arm as she tried to free herself.

"Hold on, Mer." A different voice spoke, clear and soothing. "Relax and breathe. In and out."

In and out.

In and out.

Meredith blinked and slowed her struggling. She recognized both faces that swam before her.

"Jet?" She sucked in a harsh breath, listing slightly in effort to keep her upper body upright. Jet's arm shot out and grasped her shoulder bracingly. Her head felt like it had been emptied of logical thought and replaced by something fuzzy.

Meredith brought her eyes shyly to meet his. "Thank you." She croaked hoarsely.

"Anytime." Jet's mouth hitched up on one side, but the smile didn't reach his eyes; Meredith could see worry etched in his baby blues, but she didn't know how to acknowledge it.

"What happened?" She managed, eyes darting nervously around the room. She quickly answered her own question, though. She was in a small hospital room with one impossibly tiny window. Meredith knew the design of it was not in compliance with fire safety requirements. Her arm was hooked up to an I.V., dripping antibiotic and pain medication into her vein. A heart monitor was strapped to her chest, the contact pads itchy on her sensitive skin. The room was cold and gave the appearance of being sterile.

Meredith's anxiety wasn't disturbed by the idea of where she was, in fact, it was oddly familiar, like a recurring nightmare that she'd grown accustomed to, the echo of incidents past.

"You passed out." Jet explained, rubbing his hand soothingly up and down her arm. He brought the other up and repeated the gesture on her other side. For the moment the motion didn't seem to perturb her, however, at the slightest sign of discomfort Jet knew to pull away.

"What?" Meredith's eyes crossed from her headache and she strained to adjust her focus.

"Well you broke your nose in the most spectacular way." An accented voice chimed in from the foot of her bed. "Then you literally fell off your bar stool, into my outstretched arms." Corrigan finished, filling her in.

Jet cast a furtive glance at Corrigan; Meredith swore she heard him growl in irritation.

"Thank you for catching me." Meredith blushed. "I'm sorry for inconveniencing you like that."

Corrigan grinned widely and placed his hands behind his head, leaning back lazily in his chair. "Don't apologize. I love it when the ladies fall for me."