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Near Misses
JayBird -- Romance -- Posted: 25/09/2013 -- Updated: 25/09/2013
Jay sat in the waiting room and fretted. She would have preferred to be knitting – having her needles and yarn in her hands always helped her calm down – but unfortunately racing her partner to Medical hadn't left much time for gathering up luxuries.

As she waited, Jay watched the to and fro of agents, nurses and Flowers with an almost obsessive focus. After all, if she was occupying herself wondering what exactly Dafydd Illian had done that had left him with no hair, or why Morgan was trying to sneak Captain Kirk into the department, she had less time to worry about Acacia.

Not (she told herself hastily) that there was any need to be concerned for her partner. An arrow in the flesh was probably quite painful, granted, but it wasn't as though it was anywhere near a vital organ. At most, it would leave her with a small scar, a hilarious story to tell, and an inability to sit down for the next couple of weeks.

But despite that, Jay fretted. She worried that Acacia was going to blame her – she should, after all, have realised that an arrow in an Entwife would stay an arrow when she turned back to human – or, conversely, that Acy would blame herself. She considered worrying about poison, but dismissed the idea – Legolas would never use such an Orcish tactic (unlike certain PPC agents… Jay stayed far away from that notion).

Finally, after what seemed like about ten minutes – because it was, and because Jay didn't get on well with figures of speech – the door swung open and a black-haired woman came out.

Jay frowned at her. "You are not Acacia," she pointed out.

"I never said I was," the nurse said mildly. "Constance Sims. I'm the one your partner's been swearing at for the past however long."

"Ten minutes," Jay said absently. "She's still going? That's probably a good sign."

"Only if you're out of the room," Constance grumbled. "But the arrow has been successfully extracted, and she's basically ready to go."

Jay blinked. "Go?"

"To your Response Centre?" Constance frowned. "You are 'that red-haired maniac who calls herself my partner', yes?"

"That's me," Jay said cheerfully. "Jay Thorntree."

"You're shorter than I expected," Constance said with a shrug. "Your reports play up the 'tall' aspect so much-"

"Do not," Jay said, pouting. "We say I'm taller. Not tall."

"I'm not sure that's right," Constance said, "but regardless, I have places to be. Are you going to take Acacia off my hands?"

"I thought she'd stay here for a while," Jay said dubiously. "I mean, she's been injured, right?"

"It's only a flesh wound," Constance countered. "'Tis but a scratch. And other such quotes."

"Yes, but surely the trauma – she gets time off for this, right?"

Constance laughed, then stopped abruptly. "You're not joking? By the One, you've worked here how long? Your console's probably beeping already." She glanced at her wrist, which was bare, but bore tan lines that suggested she usually wore a watch. "So's mine, for that matter, hint hint."

"All right, fine." Jay looked towards the room again. "But you're sure she's going to be all right?"

"Absolutely," Constance confirmed. "It was a completely minor wound. Good grief, the way you're going on about this, you'd think the two of you were dating or something." She frowned. "Wait – are you? Because I'm not trying to be insensitive-"

"No," said Jay firmly, and then for good measure, "no no no no-no no. Just partners. Definitely. In conclusion: partners."

"If you say so," Constance said dubiously. "But really, I've got to go – Steve will kill me if he has to go on another mission by himself."

Jay raised her voice. "And I have to drag my oh-so-fragile partner back to our RC – since she's incapable of looking after herself."

"Jaaaaaay!" Acacia's voice echoed from inside the room. "I heard that!"