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I'm so glad you're alright...

Posted on Tue Apr 24th, 2018 @ 6:35pm by Commander Mal Xustos & Lieutenant Commander Eneas Clio

Mission: Curing the Black Blood
Location: Clio's Quarters
Timeline: Current

Mal felt horrible. He had been so busy he'd been forced to neglect Clio. All he had wanted to do when he'd found out she'd been hurt was go to her, but he had duties as Executive Officer, especially with Enalia on the injured list. Now, however, he was free and wild equines wouldn't keep him from her side. He was in a sleeveless civilian tunic that went down to about his knees, negating the need for any other garment. The garment was blue trimmed with gold. Around his neck he had his flute and in his hand was his lyre. He wanted a few options in case he was going to play music for Clio. He arrived at her door and rang the chime.

Clio wasn't sure if it was the creepy black blood or if she just knew Mal that well, but she knew exactly who was at her door. So she got up from the couch where she'd been resting and opened the door herself, pulling him inside and into an embrace. "I'm so glad you're here. I think I'm going crazy. Again."

Mal held Clio close, enveloping her in his arms as if to take her inside himself and shelter her from harm.

"You're not going crazy, my love," he said. "We're here together and everything will be alright. I'm so sorry it took me so long to come to you. I wanted to. You were in my every thought. But with both you and Enalia on the injured list, there was no one to delegate command to. I had to wait until things settled enough for me to leave T'Pral in command. But I'm here now, and I'm not going anywhere for a while."

Mal knew enough not to try and fix Clio's troubles at this moment. In this moment he knew that what Clio needed most, besides a cure, was for him to be there with her. Mal continued to hold her until she decided to break their embrace. Until then, he was content to have her in his arms, warm and soft, yet firm in all of the right places. He even adjusted his breathing so that the movement of his chest and stomach would be soothing to her and he would exude a sense of calm.

She didn't notice at first how Mal so carefully adjusted his arms and changed his breathing, but after a few moments Clio found she was breathing in sync with him as she leaned into his chest. She felt slightly calmer, if not exactly normal. Whatever normal meant anymore. "You don't have to apologize. I understand all that." Somewhat more emotionally stable, she extricated herself from the embrace and kissed his cheek. "And thank you for saying I'm not crazy even though you know I am."

"Come," Mal said, leading her over to the couch. "Let's sit, and I'll perform an old Greco-Roman custom for you to help you relax and we can talk a while, or just be together quietly."

"Sitting down sounds nice." Once they reached the couch, Clio sat down and pulled the blanket off the back of it and over her lap. "What sort of custom were you thinking of?"

Mal grinned.

"Just sit back on the couch and relax," he said, leading her to the couch and sitting her down. "I'll be right back."

Mal set down his lyre and went to the replicator and replicated a bowl of warm water and a bowl of warm oil. From the head he grabbed a washcloth and a couple of towels. He lay one of the towels under Clio's feet and placed another next to where he would be kneeling. He fetched the washcloth, the water, and the oil, and brought them over and set them down and knelt at Clio's feet. He carefully removed Clio's shoes and stockings. Taking the washcloth, he dipped it in the warm water and began to gently wash Clio's left foot and ankle, taking his time.

Clio watched him for a moment, snuggling into her blanket but taking care to keep it out of the bowls. The water was warm enough to be soothing but not hot. And it was certainly relaxing. "Whoever invented this custom is a genius. But... how did you know it would help me?"

"Simple," Mal said. "I am a genius."

Finishing with Clio's left foot, Mal moved on to the right, taking his time. When he was done with the right, he gently dried both of her feet. When they were dry, Mal dipped his fingers in the warm oil and began to massage Clio's feet.

"This was considered a sign of hospitality," Mal said. "Unfortunately, since the well to do owned slaves, instead of doing this for their visitors, they would order their slaves to do it. Slaves didn't have the right to refuse this order, so it became an act of subjugation. On Pomtol, however, it is still sometimes practiced. When Pan built our society, he didn't include the institution of slavery. So there is no one to subjugate. Besides, the satyrs more often do this for the nymphs than the other way around, and if a nymph cleans a satyr's hooves for him it means she really, really likes him...or that he's paying a professional to do it."

Mal grinned when he realized that Clio might misunderstand his explanation, as he continued to work oil into Clio's feet, taking his time.

"Don't worry," he said. "I'm not expecting you to clean my hooves, and if the idea did enter your mind, please have Maica show you how first."

"I had horses growing up. I think I can handle cleaning a hoof." Clio couldn't help snickering just a little. "But of course I'd make sure I knew what I was doing first. I wouldn't want to hurt you."

"Thank you!" Mal said, dipping his fingers in the warm oil again and going back to work on Clio's feet and lower legs. "Wait, didn't you grow up on some kind of world ship or space station? Or was that my other girlfriend? How did you have horses?"

"Born on one. Grew up on Earth," Clio reminded him somewhat absently. "Wasn't really a farm, per se, but rural enough for horses."

"Uch," Mal said. "I knew that. Sorry. There's been a lot going on. I should have remembered that. We have an equine species on Pomtol, but only the nymphs have the legs and feet to ride them. Some of the satyrs have learned to control them with their knees and reins only, but I never got the hang of it. There's a special stirrup for us, but I never really felt comfortable with it. Did you ride often?"

Once the oil was completely rubbed in, Mal playfully kissed all of Clio's toes, before tucking her legs up beside her and sitting down on the couch next to her. He picked up his lyre and began to play a soothing tune as they continued to talk.

"Once a week or so. Not as often as I would have liked to, and I haven't ridden in years now." Clio tucked her legs under the blanket and snuggled up to Mal, careful not to hinder his playing. "Holographic horses aren't the same."

"No," Mal said, smiling at the feeling of Clio being close to him. "They wouldn't be. There's something about connecting with another living thing that holographic replica's can't replace. It's different, of course, with Maica, and with Akira. They're sentient, living beings. There's something to connect to."

Mal continued to play, but his voice grew more somber.

"Clio," he said. "How are you, really?"

That was not a question Clio really felt ready to answer, and she hesitated for several long seconds. "Physically, medical says I'm fine. Other than my blood turning black anyhow. But I don't feel... right. I can't sleep, can't focus on anything. Spent most of the day on the verge of a panic attack, and the lorazepam I take for that didn't do anything. I don't know what this black blood is supposed to do, but I don't like it."

"I'm so sorry," Mal said. "I should have insisted on killing the Master myself, rather than sending in you and T'Pral...no, that sounding insulting. I sent you and T'Pral because you were the best people for the job and because it was my duty to be on the bridge. But I promise you, we will find a cure, you have my word."

"I knew the risks. And if I had the chance to go back and change what happened... I wouldn't. He needed to be dealt with, and T'Pral and I were the most qualified to do it. Also, needs of the many and all that nonsense." It was no secret that Clio had often put herself in danger for her crew mates, and most on the Hera knew she'd do so in a heartbeat, no matter the risks. "And I know we'll find a cure. Just a matter of when."

"Soon," Mal said. "Or at least sooner than later."

Mal continued to play his lyre for his lover's enjoyment as she snuggled up against him on the couch. He played soothing songs to help her stay calm and relaxed. They sat in silence for some time, just basking in each other's presence. Finally, Mal spoke.

"Are you hungry?" he asked. "Thirsty? Can I get you anything?"

"Haven't had much of an appetite, but a drink would be nice. You don't have to get it though... you're a guest in my cabin." Having been raised in the American south, Clio had been ingrained with the idea that one took care of their guests.

"Normally, I'd sit back and let you fix me a drink," Mal said. "But I'm here to pamper you a bit, so let me get you a drink. What would you like?"

Clio briefly considered resisting a bit more before relenting with a somewhat more relaxed smile. "White tea with huckleberry honey. I think I've programmed my replicator for it, but plain honey is fine too."

"Your wish is my command," Mal said. He rose and got Clio her tea and got himself a mulled cider. He returned to the couch and handed Clio her tea, then sat down. "Careful, it's hot."

The tea was indeed quite hot, but Clio took a few sips of it anyway. It was almost hot enough to scald her throat, but the warmth felt nice all the same. "Thanks. I wish I was better company tonight though."

Mal shrugged.

"You're a captive audience for me to practice new songs for," Mal said. "What more could I ask for?"

Mal set down his mulled cider and picked up his flute and began to play a merry little tune to lighten the mood.

"Well. The music does help." Clio wasn't about to tell Mal how she could hear almost every psychic voice on the ship, even the ones she couldn't hear before. Or how loud they were. She didn't quite know how to explain it anyway, and even if she did... a non-telepath might not understand. "I never learned to play an instrument. I mean, I tried. But I am apparently not musical."

Mal took a moment to finish his song.

"Well," his said, taking a sip of his cider. "This is why you have a handsome, dashing, talented lover...who's also a passable musician."

Mal winked at Clio. Then he regarded her a moment.

"I can see from the scrunch in your forehead that something is bothering you," he said. "Headache?"

"I've had one since I went through the Section 31 transporter. Marci didn't know if it was that or the blood that was causing it, but hydrocortilene won't touch it." Clio hadn't thought it was that obvious, but then again... Mal knew her better than the rest of the crew did. He would notice things that others wouldn't. "Sumatriptan didn't help either, so I've just been... dealing with it."

"Here," Mal said. "Sit on the floor in front of me."

Clio set her tea down on the side table and then slipped off the couch onto the floor in front of Mal. She had no idea if massage would help, but she did know it would feel nice.

Mal began to massage Clio's head, neck, shoulders, scalp, even her jaw to try and relieve her headache, gently but firmly, making sure to hit certain acupressure points designed to release tension from the shoulders up.

"Computer," he said. "A little gentle Old Earth jazz, please. Something from one of Chief Warrant Officer Ral's lists, perhaps the coffee house jazz play list?"

"Working," the Computer replied. Gentle, relaxing music began to play over the sound system in Clio's quarters. "Coffee House Jazz playlist now playing."

"Thank you, Computer," Mal said. It never hurt to be polite, even to a computer.

"You are welcome, Commander Mal Xustos," the Computer replied.

Between the soft music and the gentle massage, Clio started to relax a little. As she relaxed, the pain did fade slightly, but her discomfort would still be apparent to anyone paying close enough attention. "Where did you learn how to do that?"

"We're a very tactile sort on Pomtol," Mal said. "So I've had lots of opportunities to learn and practice. I've kept at it since joining Starfleet. I enjoy this kind of intimacy, even when it doesn't lead to sex. Just being physically close to you in this way is very nice. Clio, I'm just going to guess here, but is it possible that your psi abilities are causing your headache? Could the infection be playing havoc with them? I ask because I may have a temporary solution for that."

"Not only possible, but pretty likely actually. I've talked with Aewia and with the teams investigating the infection, and it seems to... enhance existing abilities. Before it either changes you entirely or kills you." Clio left out the bit about having entire conversations with Aewia... and just how much she could hear from each member of the crew. "I'm not certain my telepathy can be blocked at this point, but I'm interested in hearing the possible solution anyway."

"Well," Mal said. "I once had to detain a Lethean. In order to prevent him from using his telepathy on my masters-at-arms and brig officers, the CMO rigged a device blocked his telepathy. I could perhaps find the schematics for this device and suggest that Doctor Lysander look it over. It isn't the only device of it's kind, but it was particularly powerful."

"I've never heard of such a device. That's... really interesting." Truth be told, Clio had never had any real reason to look into ways to block telepathic contact. She had her own defenses that had worked well for her... until now, anyway. "Please, see if he can make something like that work for me. I need some uninterrupted sleep."

"I'll speak to him about it tomorrow," Mal said. "Now, sit back and relax as best you can and let me take care of you."

 

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