doing in a couple hours."
Fingers pressed lightly at various points on her head and face. It was soothing in an odd way. She kept expecting the usual neuro stuff -- somebody peering in her eyeballs with an agonizingly bright light and being asked to touch her nose. All those difficult and irritating things they did to you in the ER. They didn't happen.
She was tired, exhausted tired.
"Do you want to take a nap? I could nudge things in that direction," offered Peter.
"You're the psychic healer."
"Yeah, that's me. We're pretty few and far between. I guess you could say I'm top dog on that front around here."
"I'm such a fuck-up I don't even know why I'm here,"
Jennifer whispered.
"No you're not. You're having an amazingly shitty day. That happens to all of us. I really do think you could do with some sleep. It's going to take me another hour or so to sort out the migraine thing.
"Are you going to give me drugs?"
"Nope. I might if I was slam busy and needed to deal with someone else who was badly injured, but except for Danny's face, I'm having a pretty slow day." Peter chuckled just a little.
"I'm sorry I hurt him. I was… mad." The exhaustion was stealing over her, and the room's dim lighting was easy on her eyes. Peter's fingers softly traced a circle on her temple.
***
"Is Sebastiano asleep?" Danny poked his head into the infirmary.
Peter looked up from his book. "No, not anymore.
She slept for about an hour, then I sent her off to the cafeteria. Come here and let me see how your eye and nose are doing." Although he had done some initial healing on the damage, it was nowhere near back to normal.
Danny straddled a straight back chair that had been turned and sat down in front of Peter. Peter gently ran his fingertips along Danny's still slightly swollen and bruised nose and eye socket. Danny flinched a little as Peter's touch came to the lower edge of the orbit.
"Yeah, that's the spot that took most of the force of the blow." Peter sent a warm tendril of energy into the area, and focused on easing away some more of the bruising, as well as the pain. Danny let out a small sigh.
"Better?"
"Mmm… yes."
"Good, the visible bruising is down to a just a little left near the corner of your eye. By tomorrow it should be barely noticeable." Peter trailed a finger lightly down across Danny's mouth and chin. "No more letting cute chicks haul off and hit you."
Danny gave him a grin. "She is kind of cute isn't she?
Especially when she's pissed."
***
Jennifer's hands were wrapped around a cup as she sat at a table in the cafeteria. Danny watched her for a moment before he went toward her.
"You look more with it than you did earlier," he said, pulling out a chair and sitting down beside her.
"Um… yeah." She stared into the cup like she was hoping it would yield the meaning of the universe.
"Talk to me. That wasn't a lucky punch. Whatever you did never made it to conscious thought. It was a reflex. You laid me out." Danny tried to make his tone as gentle as possible. She was still too close to spooked.
"Eight unwilling years of Aikido. My father thought it would improve my self-discipline and help me control my temper. All it did was give me the ability to make my temper… well, close to lethal. After a couple of years of fumbling my way through class like the complete klutz I am, I stopped trying to think about it. I used to just tune out. God, that makes me sound like I was dropping acid or something. I don't know how I’d do it. I'd just fall into sync with whatever the instructor's body was doing. If the teacher could do it perfectly, so could I. They say muscle memory is deeper than thought. My body knows every move I was ever taught, even if I'd prefer it didn't. When I went to college I stayed away from everything I thought was dangerous. I took up art. It's difficult to hurt somebody with a paint brush. Only I'm not really very good. I can only draw what I see. I can draw the abuser, the rapist, the
Fingers pressed lightly at various points on her head and face. It was soothing in an odd way. She kept expecting the usual neuro stuff -- somebody peering in her eyeballs with an agonizingly bright light and being asked to touch her nose. All those difficult and irritating things they did to you in the ER. They didn't happen.
She was tired, exhausted tired.
"Do you want to take a nap? I could nudge things in that direction," offered Peter.
"You're the psychic healer."
"Yeah, that's me. We're pretty few and far between. I guess you could say I'm top dog on that front around here."
"I'm such a fuck-up I don't even know why I'm here,"
Jennifer whispered.
"No you're not. You're having an amazingly shitty day. That happens to all of us. I really do think you could do with some sleep. It's going to take me another hour or so to sort out the migraine thing.
"Are you going to give me drugs?"
"Nope. I might if I was slam busy and needed to deal with someone else who was badly injured, but except for Danny's face, I'm having a pretty slow day." Peter chuckled just a little.
"I'm sorry I hurt him. I was… mad." The exhaustion was stealing over her, and the room's dim lighting was easy on her eyes. Peter's fingers softly traced a circle on her temple.
***
"Is Sebastiano asleep?" Danny poked his head into the infirmary.
Peter looked up from his book. "No, not anymore.
She slept for about an hour, then I sent her off to the cafeteria. Come here and let me see how your eye and nose are doing." Although he had done some initial healing on the damage, it was nowhere near back to normal.
Danny straddled a straight back chair that had been turned and sat down in front of Peter. Peter gently ran his fingertips along Danny's still slightly swollen and bruised nose and eye socket. Danny flinched a little as Peter's touch came to the lower edge of the orbit.
"Yeah, that's the spot that took most of the force of the blow." Peter sent a warm tendril of energy into the area, and focused on easing away some more of the bruising, as well as the pain. Danny let out a small sigh.
"Better?"
"Mmm… yes."
"Good, the visible bruising is down to a just a little left near the corner of your eye. By tomorrow it should be barely noticeable." Peter trailed a finger lightly down across Danny's mouth and chin. "No more letting cute chicks haul off and hit you."
Danny gave him a grin. "She is kind of cute isn't she?
Especially when she's pissed."
***
Jennifer's hands were wrapped around a cup as she sat at a table in the cafeteria. Danny watched her for a moment before he went toward her.
"You look more with it than you did earlier," he said, pulling out a chair and sitting down beside her.
"Um… yeah." She stared into the cup like she was hoping it would yield the meaning of the universe.
"Talk to me. That wasn't a lucky punch. Whatever you did never made it to conscious thought. It was a reflex. You laid me out." Danny tried to make his tone as gentle as possible. She was still too close to spooked.
"Eight unwilling years of Aikido. My father thought it would improve my self-discipline and help me control my temper. All it did was give me the ability to make my temper… well, close to lethal. After a couple of years of fumbling my way through class like the complete klutz I am, I stopped trying to think about it. I used to just tune out. God, that makes me sound like I was dropping acid or something. I don't know how I’d do it. I'd just fall into sync with whatever the instructor's body was doing. If the teacher could do it perfectly, so could I. They say muscle memory is deeper than thought. My body knows every move I was ever taught, even if I'd prefer it didn't. When I went to college I stayed away from everything I thought was dangerous. I took up art. It's difficult to hurt somebody with a paint brush. Only I'm not really very good. I can only draw what I see. I can draw the abuser, the rapist, the
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