=/\= USS-Charon, Sickbay =/\=
Brent sighed as he finally made his way into sickbay. He had hated the idea of coming back here again. The idea of having to be worked on by a doctor because of that stupid Klingon woman. One of his medics knew how to work a regenerator just fine, but it was the bite that made him worry. He didn't know the last time that she had brushed her teeth let alone cleaned it out. He moved into sickbay, staying towards the back waiting to see if there was an open doctor. Walking wounded were never really a priority, or so he had heard in all of the old war movies he had seen.
Doctor David King had so far been very busy at work today. With the assistance of the Romulan facilities repair rates had increased, and before long sickbay found itself nearly completely repaired. Which was a relief, as the Doctor was finding it somewhat difficult to concentrate; his mind kept wandering to Aubrey, who had been laying on that corner biobed for weeks now.
Brent noticed that things were seemingly back in order here. At least things were looking better. He looked around for a little bit before finding what appeared to be a doctor. "Hey doc?" said stopping the doctor near him. "Hey I got some scratches and a bite mark that I need you to look at. I wouldn't bother you about them but I don't want them to get infected you know?" he asked and motioned at his left shoulder blade.
"Oh, yes, of course," replied the doctor, apparently slightly distracted by something. "Please have a seat on biobed two while I grab my instruments."
Brent nodded and sat down as instructed to. He took off his shirt, wincing as he had to bring his arms up and over his head. "Dammit," he said looking at the makeshift bandage in the reflection of a nearby panel. It hadn't bled through which was good but he still wanted it looked at.
Returning to the biobed Doctor King quickly ran a tricorder over the inflicted areas. It only took a moment for him to come to a conclusion, "Though a couple of these appear to be pretty nasty, they seem to be superficial." As he closed the device and reached for a dermal regenerator he raised an eyebrow.
Brent closed his eyes and resisted the urge to rub his forehead. "Well at least they're superficial," he said before he tried to explain it. He didn't think the doctor wanted all of the details, but he at least owed him something of an explanation since Brent had gone into Sickbay to see him. "Best way I can think of to describe it is that Klingon women get like that if you do the right thing at the right time. I imagine it made someone quite the anthropology paper when it was first discovered," he said and waited out the healing.
"I believe we can leave it at that," replied the Doctor as he worked the regenerator back and forth across the wounds. He was rather unsure if anyone had seen him roll his eyes. One day people would learn that the act of pursuing physical relationships with others of different species carried innate risks (some more than others), and preparation and caution were to be desired.
After several moments David finally deactivated the device and crossed his arms, "You should report back in a couple days for a second treatment from one of the nurses to prevent scarring. And, may I just add, that they don't call it protection for no reason; next time use some common semse."
"Two days. Gotcha, I'll be back then," Brent said as he began to put his shirt back on after the doctor was done. "So what would you recommend as protection in this instance doctor? A ballgag? Or a metal file?" he asked with a smirk.
"Or, in this case," King said as he turned to walk away, returning to his other duties. "You may just try using common sense."
____________________________________________
Commander David King
Chief Medical Officer
USS-Charon
&
Brevet First Lieutenant Brent Warren
Marine Commander
USS-Charon
