A Serious Lack of Tact

Writers: Bree, Nici
Date Posted: 8th September 2005

Characters: Abrei, R'han
Description: Abrei's impressive lack of tact leads to a rather unpleasant argument with R'han.
Location: River Bluff Weyr
Date: month 7, day 13 of Turn 3

Abrei

Abrei had gotten out of the infirmary before R'han had finished drills for once, so by the time R'han returned to his weyr, she'd had dinner brought up _and_ managed to neaten up most of the outer room. A surprisingly large pile of her clothing sat in one of the chairs, and she glanced at him in amusement as she dropped a final tunic on the stack. "We need to stop tearing my clothing off and leaving it in odd places. My entire wardrobe is going to be hidden under your couch cushions in another month at this rate."

He laughed. "Or we simply need to find a drudge to get your things to the laundry. I don't want you walking about unclothed unless I can do something about it."

Laughing, Abrei pointed him toward the table. "I actually got us dinner for once... let's eat it before you start talking or thinking about me wandering around unclothed."

"Wow...I get fed...to what do I owe this pleasure?" He ducked a tossed tunic and headed for the table. "Now, now...you just cleaned that up!"

"If you hadn't ducked, it would have been worth it," she muttered, following behind him. "As to the food... you feed me just about every day. I can return the favor _once_, can't I?"

"I suppose!" R'han sat down and waited for her to join him. "It's a nice change. I can't imagine why you're suddenly so domestic...or as close to it as either of us manages."

One eyebrow went up as she sank into her own chair, only briefly pondering 'accidently' knocking the juice over into his lap. "Don't get used to it.
Even I can pick up my own laundry once or twice a turn... it's not a habit."

"Good to know..." She might have had the food brought up, but old habits died hard and it was R'han who ended up serving them both, including pouring the juice she'd been thinking of upending on him. "Eat up, healer. Now that we've found all your clothes, I want to see where we can hide the ones you're wearing."

She picked at her food with very little interest, though she did sip at the juice. "What did they say at the meeting about Dolphin Cove? I couldn't leave the infirmary until it was almost over." She'd had a rather harrowing surgical delivery and had spent a candlemark afraid that she was going to lose the mother. Once the laundry drudge and her newborn baby were safely asleep, Abrei had declared her workday over and fled the infirmary.

R'han broke off a bit of bread and chewed it for a moment before replying.
"The Weyrleader of Dolphin Cove seriously needs our assistance so we were discussing those best suited to it. There's a bit of timing involved, and double shifts...fight two Falls won't be easy on the men, but we're picking the best to participate." He mopped up a bit of gravy with the bread. "I've been seriously considering volunteering for the duty myself."

Abrei froze with her hand halfway to her mouth, so surprised that the words left her mouth before they had time to stop at her brain. "Are you an _idiot_?"

One of his brows rose. "Excuse me?"

Wincing, Abrei set the piece of fruit carefully back on her plate and wiped her hands. "I'm sorry, that was a little tactless... but it _is_ insane, R'han. Why would you even think of doing that to yourself? Shards, L'keri went back half a candlemark and nearly fainted, and he's not even thirty yet!"

"He's also less experienced. And what does _that_ mean." R'han tossed his fork aside. "I'm young when you want someone good between the sheets. If I want to go for a challenging duty, suddenly I'm too old. You'd better make up your mind and stop confusing this _old_ man."

"Oh, stop being so sharding _sensitive_ about it!" Abrei tossed her napkin down and stood, her appetite gone. "You're the only one obsessed with age."

"I'm not the one who brought it up, healer. You were. Again." He stood.
"Maybe you'd best take your clothes and find someone younger and better able to please you and I'll do what I _want_ with regards to assignments. Woman, I was riding my dragon before you could crap and wipe your arse by yourself.
So don't ever lecture me."

"Maybe someone younger wouldn't throw me out of his presence every time I mentioned how sharding _old_ he is," Abrei retorted, striding over to the chair that held her clothing. "And someone younger wouldn't be so sensitive that he tried to kill himself every other month by doing things men half his age would be cautious of." Trying to gather up the clothing was certainly destroying the rhythm of her angry exit. She ended up leaving half of it in the chair in her haste to move towards the door, afraid that whatever would come out of his mouth next would push her over the edge from anger to tears.

R'han wasn't in the mood to watch for her ever changing emotions, nor was he inclined to be sensitive to them. Instead, he reached for the clothing she _couldn't_ grasp. "Let me help you. Better still...." He shoved past her, found a hapless drudge passing by and hurled the clothing. "Do assist our Master Healer with moving her crap out of my place. Better still, how about finding the laundry for her since she can boss everyone around by can't get her undies cleaned." He gave Abrei one look and went back inside. "Don't think you've taken my teeth because I'm yours, Abrei. It's not wise."

The door slammed and Abrei did her best not to wince. "Leave me be," she said shortly to the drudge who was hurrying to gather up the clothing that had been flung across the hallway.

"But--" The drudge glanced up, face going pale at the fury in the Master Healer's eyes. "Yes, Weyrhealer." She stood with the bundle of clothing in her arms, glancing nervously at the tangle of tunics still held against Abrei's chest.

Abrei snarled at her. "Give me my clothing and go away."

The drudge dropped everything and bolted, leaving Abrei to gather up her clothing feeling tired and foolish and utterly humiliated.

Last updated on the September 8th 2005

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A Serious Lack of Tact