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"Thought you were supposed to be retired," V says with a forced smile, dropping the first aid kit next to her on the desk.
Vik chuckles, hissing slightly as the motion pulls at his bruised ribs. He looks up at V with a sheepish expression, shrugging his shoulders. She sighs heavily, her brow pinched as the rifles through the kit. V insisted on being the one to treat him, despite the fact that, out of the two of them, he was the doctor here. He's leaning back in his chair, one hand holding a rag to his nose to collect the blood currently dripping down. He'd already set the break, and by his educated guess it was the worst of the injuries. Still, V insisted on seeing to every cut and bruise, and he was a little confused as to why.
It was only a couple guys, trying to break into the clinic. Looking to steal some tech, probably, and Vik took that personally. Moment he realized what was happening, Vik decked the first guy in the jaw, knocking him out flat. Second guy landed a sucker punch to his nose, taking him by surprise. Vik had thrown him into the wall, hard enough to hear a sickening crack. Third guy, however, had a bat. Hence the ribs. V was turning the corner at the exact moment he swung, and Vik was distracted for that split second; he remembers seeing her eyes widen and her mouth open -shouting his name, probably- and then felt the bat connect. He shouted a curse, instincts from his days in the ring kicking in. He wasn't exactly sure what happened next, but the guy ended up on the ground, and Vik's knuckles were split open.
All in all, not too bad. He was pissed at himself for getting distracted enough to get hit, but hey. Glass half full. They were all laid flat on the pavement before the NCPD showed up, and he had a pretty girl patching him up.
Not too bad at all.
What soured it, however, was the fact that V had hardly spoken the whole time. She was shaking an inhaler at the moment, and bent over to place it in his hand.
"Trust you know what to do with that?" She asks, not waiting for his answer before she's off walking to the mini fridge at the end of his desk. Vik watches her go with wide eyes, blinking in confusion before his brain catches up and he takes two puffs of the MaxDoc. He tosses it onto his desk, pulling the rag from his face to check the blood. Not a lot anymore, thankfully. He reaches for the first aid kit, aiming to grab a bandage for the cuts, when his hand gets slapped away.
V's standing there with her hand on her hip, brow cocked. She's holding an ice pack from the fridge in her other hand, and has a stormy look on her face. Vik opens his mouth, but she reaches to tilt his head back sharply, making him hiss. She's surprisingly gentle when she presses the ice pack to his nose, her expression falling for a moment.
Vik licks his lips, braves raising her apparent ire further just so he can find out what the fuck is going on.
"You angry with me, sweetheart?" Vik asks her. Her eyes flick to his for a brief moment, before she focuses back on his nose. Without looking away she reaches over with her free hand to pull a band aid from the first aid kit, ripping it open with her teeth. She shoves the ice pack into his hands, bending at the waist to put the band aid over the bridge of his nose. She's a little more aggressive this time, patting it down harder than necessary.
"What makes you think that?" V finally responds, grabbing the pack from his hand again before he can even do anything with it. She gestures to his chest, moving away. "Off."
Vik briefly considers cracking a smile and flirting, but knows she'd probably kneel on his balls next if he did. He moves his hands to start undoing the buttons of his short, stuttering when it pulls on his bruised ribs.
V immediately leans over, brushing his hands away and pulling at the buttons herself. Her expression is unreadable, which honestly worries him; he'd been able to decipher her every twitch for months now. When the buttons are done, she opens the shirt and freezes before pulling the sleeves down. Vik already knows what he's gonna see, but looks down anyway.
There's a large bruise patch of yellow and purple spreading from his left side, right under his pec and inching towards the center of his chest. Looks like hell, but Vik's happy the idiot with the bat didn't swing any harder and crack anything. V's still staring at his ribs, his shirt slipping through her fingers. Looking away, Vik quickly shrugs out of the fabric and let's it fall over the back of his chair.
When he's naked to the waist, her expression falls, and it finally clicks. He sees in her face, written plain as day, what he feels each and every time she goes out on a gig.
She was worried.
Vik realizes this is the first time she'd ever seen him in any sort of action; the first time to see him injured, period. And she looks as terrified as he feels every time she limps into his clinic, smiling through the blood.
"Sweetheart," he says, catching V's hand and pulling her close. She steps between his spread legs, distracted still by the splash of bruising over his ribs. Vik tugs her hand harder, pulling her down onto his lap. She blinks, and starts to protest immediately.
"Vik, your ribs -"
He silences her with a kiss, hands going to her waist. V's hands lift to cradle his jaw, her touch impossibly gentle as her thumbs swipe over his cheeks. He moves a hand to her back, fingers softly roving up and down the bumps of her spine. She sighs into his mouth, her body finally relaxing against him. She moves, pressing her knees into his chair at either side of his waist, straddling his waist. Her weight on his lap is heaven, and he heaves a deep sigh. In this position she's half a head taller than him, her hair falling in a curtain around them both as her head tilts down to kiss him softly. He can smell her shampoo, feel the heavy beats of her heart where their chests are pressed together. His senses are overwhelmed with everything V, and thinks he feels something akin to peace.
V breaks the kiss to take a shaky breath, hands moving up to run through his cropped hair, nails moving over his scalp soothingly. Vik groans at the feeling, face pressed against her sternum. He kisses her there, skin soft as silk against his mouth.
Fuck, he doesn't think he's ever felt this good. Injuries notwithstanding.
Vik rocks her gently in his lap, V's hands tightening around his head, holding him tight to her chest.
He doesn't know how long he stays like that; breathing softly against her chest, fingers dancing ever so gently over the plane of her back. Thinks he might've even fallen asleep at one point, V's nails gently skimming over his scalp much more soothing than he expected.
"Don't scare me like that again," V whispers against his hair, breaking their silence. Vik tightens his hold on her, grins into her chest.
"I'm a lot tougher than I look."
It gets the desired reaction, V laughing quietly in response. Music to his ears.
"I know you are. It's just ... different, actually seeing it."
Vik hums in response, kissing her chest once, twice, thrice. "Now you know how I feel, every time I gotta watch you waltz out that door."
"At least I give you a nice view."
Well.
He cant argue with that