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“Keep still.” Mischievous giggles filled the infirmary, but she stilled her swinging leg regardless.
“Really Doctor, it’s just a graze. I could’ve done this myself.”
“Do you want gangrene?” She shook her head from side to side with the energy of a child, hair bouncing around her cheeks as she did so, and she blew a thin stream of air out of the corner of her lips to move a strand that had fallen in front of her eyes. “Hm, good, then let me finish.”
She shut her eyes for the moment, resting back on her outstretched hands, letting him finish his ministrations. Her heart was still pounding in her chest, reminiscent of the last minute chase towards the TARDIS. It was always this way with them both, never stopping long enough to have a cup of tea or a chat before guns were being trained at their heads. She wouldn’t have had it any other way. Sometimes it felt like she was born running.
“Ow!” Her eyes shot open wide as she hissed through her teeth, and she stared down at him kneeling on the floor, a cotton ball clasped in his fingers as he dabbed at her knee, his large hands clamped around her ankle, holding her leg out. He didn’t bother mumbling an apology, just raised his eyebrow at her as he continued to pat her wound down with iodine. “That hurt.”
Her bottom lip stuck out in an exaggerated pout and she kicked her leg slightly, baiting him to enclose his fingers around her skin just that little tighter. She felt the pressure of his fingers tense around the bottom of her calf and smiled in answer. She never liked playing the role of ‘good patient’, it was always much too fun to push his buttons instead. Wordlessly he reached towards the edge of the bed, depositing the dirty wad of cotton and picking up a fresh one, inspecting it quickly between his two fingers before pressing it lightly against her skin.
She started to swing her other leg back and forth underneath the bed, and delighted as she saw that small furrow of annoyance form across his brow.
“Sarah Jane…” God, she loved it when she forced him to say her full name. She loved it even more when he said it in that low, frustrated growl. Oh how she loved to get under his skin. If it were an Olympic sport she’d be taking home gold every time.
She looked down at him, all innocent puppy eyes, the faintest of smiles playing on her lips, and she watched as he tried and failed to suppress his own grin. Laughter erupted from her and she fought the impulse to drag her hand through his curls and ruffle his hair.
His deft fingers swiped at her wounds one last time, and he sat back on his haunches, grabbing the plaster that he’d had resting in a fold in his scarf. His hand that was wrapped around her ankle left her, and she stifled the sigh that threatened to leave her lips. Smoothing the plaster down over her knee with his thumbs, he gave it a last once over, admiring his work, before standing up in front of her. His arms moved automatically towards her, and she gripped onto his shoulders in response, jumping down from the bed and testing her weight on her injured leg.
“Well, will I live?” She stuck her leg out and inspected his handiwork, twisting her ankle from left to right, unable to stop the smile growing on her face.
“Hm, we’ll have to keep an eye on it. I can’t rule out amputation as a final measure.” He grinned at the sound of her laughter, teeth bared like the cheshire cat, and stuck his hand in one of his endless pockets, rummaging around. Out came his crumpled white paper bag and he offered it to her, shaking the bag slightly. “You can only have one. Maybe next time if you behave yourself you can have two.”
Her fingers dipped into the bag with a mischievous smile and she brought out a jellybaby, popping it into her mouth and chewing with renewed energy.
“Deal.”
They both knew the bribe wouldn’t work, she’d never been a model patient, always preferring instead to delicately push and pull at his patience. In fact, nothing was sweeter to her than his mock exasperation, not even a whole bag of jellybabies.