~*~ Hush, Don't Tell ~*~ - from Audley Mills Surge

[Âłíșōñ]

Luschka slowly walked into the hospital. Ugh, she groaned. Hospitals were her least favorite place--and she had alot of places she hated. She felt a strong urge to turn around and go back to her favorite form, but she had fallen when skateboarding home and cut open her elbow, so now she needed stiches. Classic Lu. Doing what people didn't expect her to just to show she could. If it hadn't been that bad she would have just stuck it out, but she was bleeding like crazy and people would start to stare and at the moment that was the last thing she needed. Attention to a werewolf.

She sighed and walked to the front desk. She just hoped no-one she knew would find her here. That would be the most humiliating thing in the world. She signed in and then turned around and sat in a cushiony chair in the far corner of the room--away from all the humans. She could smell their variety of different scents. Some horrible, some sweet, and others just smelled like death and sickness. Very different from the werewolf scent that was earthy, and homey. She coughed from the overwhelming aromas. Whomever my doctor may be, please hurry the hell up! She thought desprately.

[*Kittlez.]

Samuel was exhausted. Not just your 'I need a good night's sleep', or 'I didn't have my morning coffee' exhausted, for that matter. He was the 'I've been up all night running through the forest, and have consequently had a rough day on no sleep' exhausted.

Slumped over his desk, half asleep, Sam barely noticed the alert pop up on his screen that he had a patient awaiting treatment, mumbling incoherently and slamming his hand onto the keyboard a few times until it accepted the patient, allowing her entrance.

Dragging himself upright in his desk chair, he wrinkled his nose and blinked hard, trying to rouse himself for the task ahead. She needed stitches, apparently. Urgh. A difficult task for someone so tired. Straightening his glasses and smoothing his shirt and tie, he began to roll up his sleeves, waiting for the inevitable knock on the door, from his next patient.

The nurse at the reception desk, after receiving the go-ahead, called out to the young blonde lady who had just entered, telling her to go to room three.

"Doctor Bailey will see you now."

[Âłíșōñ]

Thank God, Lu thought as she shot up out of her chair and nearly ran to room three. Instead of knocking like the usual patient, Luschka just barged in and sat on the paper-covered observation bed. She could not wait to get out of here. Suddenly an all so familiar earthy scent drifted into her nose. Flaring her nostrils, she observed him skeptically. Werewolf?, she asked herself. After seeing how tired he looked and how strongly he smelled of the forest she concluded that, after all, he was.

The tall blond girl chuckled under her breath and looked at him teasingly. Geez, what were you doing in the forest last night? Fighting a bear? She laughed and then her attention was quickly turned back to her arm when it throbbed. She cursed quietly under her breath. Okay Doc, here's what happened. I was skateboarding home when I ran over a large rock and fell, cutting my elbow open. Now can you give me some stiches so I can get out of here? No offence, but this isn't really my scene. She said truthfully. Always truthfully.

[*Kittlez.]

Eggh. Now that was a nasty injury. Thankfully it would only take a couple of stitches, some gauze and a bandage, and she'd be right as rain in a week or two. Swivelling in his chair to face her, her strange question caught him completely off guard, eyes suddenly wide, features frozen.

Wait, what?

Mouth flapping for a few moments like a goldfish, he swivelled his chair back round swiftly, pretending to be rummaging through a deep draw for what he needed to perform the minor procedure,
bright red in the face and mind racing. How on earth did she know what he'd been doing last night? Was she a stalker? Psychic?

Oh. Wait. Duh. His scent.
She was most likely one of his kind, meaning that his scent, as well as where he'd been in the last twelve hours was more than obvious to her, and if he'd paid any attention to her scent, he would realized what she was too. Sighing heavily, he pulled out a metal tray that was tucked into a cabinet, sliding it out to his side and beginning to place the sterilized instruments on it, now calm and composed enough to talk her through the procedure.

"I could sit here and tell you about my little adventure in the woods, or I could fix up your elbow and let you get back to your 'scene'. I think we both know which one sounds better, hmm?"

He smiled in a friendly fashion, covering the pull-out armrest from the observation couch with tissue, motioning for her to lie down with the injured arm out on the armrest.

"Now, I'm going to give you a local anesthetic, unfortunately the wound is too wide for butterfly stitches to suffice, so I'm going to need to use ones that will dissolve in around five to seven days. You may removed the bandages after three days, but keep the surgical plaster on for another four, just to make sure the wound is protected and healed. I'll just need to give you a quick injection, and then you won't feel a thing."

Sam said, washing his hands in the sink, before pulling on a pair of surgical gloves, and making sure all his sterilized equipment was in place.

"Does that sound all fine with you, Miss. Desmile?"

[Âłíșōñ]

Luschka smiled and looked at him, pleased. This guy knows what he's doing, she praised him in her head. And he's cute too, she thought with a quick laugh. Again, typical Lu. Always evaluating guys to see how cute they were. She layed down and relaxed, still smiling. Whatever you say, Doc. But I'd still like to hear about your 'adventure in the woods' last night. My scene can wait. She put her arm out on the armrest and smiled at him again, her pearly white teeth perfectly aligned and coloured.

She laughed again and spoke sarcastically. And watch out, because I don't really like pointy things. I mean I don't bite....hard, but still. She kept her arm still and watched him. Of course he would call her Miss Desmile. He was a doctor. But they were both werewolves and she felt comfortable around him. Oh, and please, just call me Luschka. She spoke with a kind voice, a happy one. She chuckled again when she looked at him. Really cute.

[*Kittlez.]

Ahh, she's certainly persistent.
Covering her arm with tissue, with a square cut out to just show the wound, he picked up the syringe, albeit with a tiny, almost invisible shudder - even after all his experiences, he still despised needles - and injected the anesthetic into the other side of her arm, smiling back in a comforting manner, just in case the young lady was at all iffy with needles.

He somehow doubted she was, she seemed like the type who wasn't scared of much, a fearless woman. An admirable trait, he had to admit. He, sadly, wasn't quite so fearless, which made him feel just a tad inferior. A grown man, more of a wimp than a girl who must have been at least five, six years his junior. Ah well. He was a doctor, a good doctor, that was an achievement, wasn't it?

As she made her next comment, he couldn't help but blush, turning away quickly back to his tray to hide it, pushing his glasses back up nervously. Luschka. What an unusual name.

Dabbing at the edges of the wound with rubbing alcohol to sterilize it, Sam glanced back up at his patient with a slightly shyer smile than before, telling himself over and over that she wasn't going to bite him, just because she was probably a better werewolf than him didn't make him less of a man.

"That's a lovely name... very unusual, I don't think I've ever heard it before. Where are you from?"

He couldn't help but ask, his curiosity getting the better of him, finishing up with the rubbing alcohol and turning back to prepare the equipment for her stitches.

Knowing that he probably wasn't going to get away with dodging her question a second time, he turned back, threading the tiny surgical needle with the dissolvable thread used for stitches, taking a deep breath to calm himself.

"I would tell you, but from the look on your face I'd say quite safely that you already know full well why I was in the forest. Why you visit the forest, also."

It was a risky move, of course. But hey, he was a doctor, some teenager couldn't exactly harm his credibility with weird claims, could she? Sam swallowed nervously at the thought.

[Âłíșōñ]

Lu smiled sweetly at his question and chuckled quietly. He could try to hide his blush, but she could see it. And she could smell his blood highten in temperature. How cute. She smiled softly again at the thought of him blushing. Thank you. I am from Russia. Born there and then my family moved to Bucharest...the rest is history. She frowned at the memory of the Werewolf Hunters surrounding her house and killing her whole family. They are the only thing she's afraid of.

She smiled again when he finally answered her question. Of course. It was a safe answer. He wouldn't say it out, but yet he still admitted it. Ah, don't worry. If you don't tell that I was at the hospital, I won't tell that you're a werewolf. See, I know you won't tell that I'm a werewolf because you're really nice. I have an edge. Remember this, Sam, there's nothing that goes on that I don't know about, she said with a grin and a wink. Hmmm.....will you meet me tonight? Say, Moon Shadow Peak? She asked still smiling. Always smiling.

[*Kittlez.]

About to make the first suture, Sam's hand froze an inch away from the wound, now shaking a little. A mixture of emotions crossed over his features, the most prominent one being concern and worry. This was dangerous, really dangerous.

What did this girl want with him? And what if someone heard them talking about this? He'd be dead by tonight. He knew there were still werewolf hunters around, some mostly likely living right here in Eden Town. He had to be on his toes.

Breathing slowly to regain his steady hand, he began to stitch up the wound, staying silent, relaxed and focused while he did so, pushing all worries from his mind so he could complete the task neatly.

As soon as he cut the last of the string, the fear flooded back, now jittery and unsettled, picking up the medical plaster and gauze, trying to think of what was best. She had a point.

It looked like he was going to have to meet with her, she knew his full name, where he worked. Hell, she probably even knew where he lived. Of all the crazy, psychopathic bitc-

"Alright, I'll meet you. Midnight, no earlier, no later. And i-it better be quick, I have work in the morning..."

His voice tailed off, knowing that his resistance was probably futile. Wrapping bandages around her arm, he made sure it was pulled to a comfortable, but practical tightness, and used a little surgical tape to fasten it.

"But no more talk of... l-lycanthropy, not until tonight anyway, okay?"

He was risking his neck even calling it that, but he hoped his lowered voice wouldn't be audible from outside the room. Beginning to clear up his workspace, he disposed of the dirty equipment and washed his hands, advising her to stay lying down for a few minutes, to make sure she didn't feel at all faint or dizzy.

"I can prescribe you some painkillers but... honestly, that'll heal in less than a week. That's one thing... we have to be proud of, I suppose."

He smiled weakly, printing off the prescription. Rubbing his hands together awkwardly, he held out the prescription almost like a peace offering, face still grave.

This was going to be a really, really long night. Hopefully he could cut work early and get some sleep before whatever she had planned for him.

[Âłíșōñ]

Luschka smiled and sat up despite his orders. She was ecstatic. When he handed her the prescription she took it, but honestly, she wasn't going to put it to use for what it was supposed to be used for, but most likely she would throw it in a fire. She hopped up off the medical bed. Fine, fine. And we sure as hell should be proud of it. She spoke non-chalauntly. She walked over and patted his shoulder awkwardly. Thank you so much.

She grinned and laughed gleefully. I must scare you don't I? Don't worry. You have nothing to fear. We have to stick together. Never. Forget. That. She looked at him seriously and nodded once, slowly. After that moment of seriousness she smiled. See you then. She spoke in a way that left an eerie silence in the room after she winked and disappeared out the door.

[*Kittlez.]

As she left, Sam breathed out heavily, as if blowing a gale from his lungs. He almost felt weak, drained, helpless. Slowly slumping back down over his desk, he closed his tired, sore eyes, trying to figure out where he went wrong. Coming to work today, perhaps? He shouldn't have even bothered, if he'd just gone to bed and called in sick like he wanted to, this would have never happened.

Another human doctor would have stitched her up, and they never would have met.

Taking off his glasses and rubbing the space between his eyes, he squeezed his eyes shut, wincing as the dull throbbing of a migraine began to build, probably from stress. That was it. He was going home.

If he was going to be going out tonight, he at least wanted to be well rested for it.

Dropping by the reception area to tell the clerk to cancel the rest of his appointments for the day, he pulled on his suit jacket, grabbed his satchel and headed out to the parking lot, with every intention of driving straight home, and getting straight into bed.

But with the constant worry of what lie in store tonight, how could he possibly sleep?

He'd just have to let the fates guide him.