working on me.
Looking at my face for a long moment she comes to a decision. “Yeah, but you get all jumpy and try to hurt me because I am working on you, I have to knock you out. Got it?”
Nodding my head. “Got it.”
She gets up and grabs her bag. Opening it up, she sets up what looks like a surgical table worthy of shiny metal. Scalpels, grips, needles. All kinds of shit including gauze and rinses. She must be a one-stop shop.
Cutting my shirt from me with scissors, she keeps all the bloody shit in a plastic garbage bag she has beside her.
Her movements are swift, deft and pretty damn clinical as she inspects the metal stuck in me. In any other situation I would be tempted to hit on this cute little woman, but fuck that. She wields a scalpel just a little too well.
As she injects me with the local anesthetic, I ask, “What’s your name by the way, Doc?”
“Rose,” she says and looks up at me with a smile. “You?”
“Seamus.”
She pushes the needle in a different place, and I yelp out, “So ya married?”
“Nope. Don’t move so much, you pussy,” she says and grins at me. “How about you?”
“I don’t know.”
“How in the hell can you not know?” she asks with a laugh. “What? She catch you cheating or something?”
“Nah, nothing like that. More like I found her and she has my head wrapped around her pretty damn bad.”
“Does she know about this stuff?” Roses asks, gesturing around us at the bathroom and the blood.
“No, not yet.”
“You gonna tell her?”
“I don’t know.”
----
A n hour later I am sewed up and have a shit ton of Advil in me. She cut me a couple of times to loosen up the skin around the metal shrapnel and boy was it very interesting to see her work, but if I had the choice of watching that again I sure as fuck wouldn’t.
I am not sure what to do though when Rose packs up her big bag and drops it by the bed. She leans down, grabbing clothes out of a smaller bag she had stuffed inside the large one.
“You get the bed,” she says as she heads into the bathroom again.
“What are you doing?”
“What do you mean?” she asks back from behind the bathroom door.
“Are you staying the night?” I ask. Fuck. I do not need a complication like her right now. I know I am sexy but I have Aaliyah.
“Don’t get the wrong idea Seamus, I am only here for appearance sake now. I will be on the floor.” I hear the shower start. She’s showering… great. She sticks her head out from the bathroom door, “Don’t get in bed yet. We need to put a plastic sheet down and then a sheet I brought so you don’t leave any blood in the bed.”
“Oh. Okay,” I say as I go over to my bag and pull out a pair of jeans. These are clean and have no blood on them.
Pulling off my bloody but dried shit, I push them into the same bag as the rest of the blood shit has gone. Quickly as possible, with one hand, I change underwear and slip on my jeans.
I pace around the room for a short time as I wait for Rose to come out. Flipping on the T.V. I turn to the local news channel to see if anything is on about tonight.
Yep, broad as daylight they have cameras watching from a distance as police and firefighters mill about the crime scene. They are covering it and interviewing bystanders. So far they have no clues. Good.
I grab my phone and I’m tempted to message Aaliyah, but I don’t. I can’t see her anytime soon, and right now I wouldn’t want to risk getting a giant fucking boner around the Doc.
Rose comes out of the bathroom not too long after I start pacing again. She is wearing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. Her hair is up in one of those towel wrapped up things women do.
Smiling at me, she asks, “How are you feeling?”
I shrug with my uninjured shoulder. “Sore and tired.”
“You’re a big guy, lay off the working out for a few days. Start back up slowly, everything should heal well.”
She digs around in her bag, producing an orange bottle of
Looking at my face for a long moment she comes to a decision. “Yeah, but you get all jumpy and try to hurt me because I am working on you, I have to knock you out. Got it?”
Nodding my head. “Got it.”
She gets up and grabs her bag. Opening it up, she sets up what looks like a surgical table worthy of shiny metal. Scalpels, grips, needles. All kinds of shit including gauze and rinses. She must be a one-stop shop.
Cutting my shirt from me with scissors, she keeps all the bloody shit in a plastic garbage bag she has beside her.
Her movements are swift, deft and pretty damn clinical as she inspects the metal stuck in me. In any other situation I would be tempted to hit on this cute little woman, but fuck that. She wields a scalpel just a little too well.
As she injects me with the local anesthetic, I ask, “What’s your name by the way, Doc?”
“Rose,” she says and looks up at me with a smile. “You?”
“Seamus.”
She pushes the needle in a different place, and I yelp out, “So ya married?”
“Nope. Don’t move so much, you pussy,” she says and grins at me. “How about you?”
“I don’t know.”
“How in the hell can you not know?” she asks with a laugh. “What? She catch you cheating or something?”
“Nah, nothing like that. More like I found her and she has my head wrapped around her pretty damn bad.”
“Does she know about this stuff?” Roses asks, gesturing around us at the bathroom and the blood.
“No, not yet.”
“You gonna tell her?”
“I don’t know.”
----
A n hour later I am sewed up and have a shit ton of Advil in me. She cut me a couple of times to loosen up the skin around the metal shrapnel and boy was it very interesting to see her work, but if I had the choice of watching that again I sure as fuck wouldn’t.
I am not sure what to do though when Rose packs up her big bag and drops it by the bed. She leans down, grabbing clothes out of a smaller bag she had stuffed inside the large one.
“You get the bed,” she says as she heads into the bathroom again.
“What are you doing?”
“What do you mean?” she asks back from behind the bathroom door.
“Are you staying the night?” I ask. Fuck. I do not need a complication like her right now. I know I am sexy but I have Aaliyah.
“Don’t get the wrong idea Seamus, I am only here for appearance sake now. I will be on the floor.” I hear the shower start. She’s showering… great. She sticks her head out from the bathroom door, “Don’t get in bed yet. We need to put a plastic sheet down and then a sheet I brought so you don’t leave any blood in the bed.”
“Oh. Okay,” I say as I go over to my bag and pull out a pair of jeans. These are clean and have no blood on them.
Pulling off my bloody but dried shit, I push them into the same bag as the rest of the blood shit has gone. Quickly as possible, with one hand, I change underwear and slip on my jeans.
I pace around the room for a short time as I wait for Rose to come out. Flipping on the T.V. I turn to the local news channel to see if anything is on about tonight.
Yep, broad as daylight they have cameras watching from a distance as police and firefighters mill about the crime scene. They are covering it and interviewing bystanders. So far they have no clues. Good.
I grab my phone and I’m tempted to message Aaliyah, but I don’t. I can’t see her anytime soon, and right now I wouldn’t want to risk getting a giant fucking boner around the Doc.
Rose comes out of the bathroom not too long after I start pacing again. She is wearing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. Her hair is up in one of those towel wrapped up things women do.
Smiling at me, she asks, “How are you feeling?”
I shrug with my uninjured shoulder. “Sore and tired.”
“You’re a big guy, lay off the working out for a few days. Start back up slowly, everything should heal well.”
She digs around in her bag, producing an orange bottle of
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