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WHO: Hippocrates Smethwyck & Rachel Englewood
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WHERE: St. Mungo's!
WHEN: TODAY
RATING: PG
To say that Healer Hippocrates Smethwyck was nervous would be a complete understatement. All week he had thought of nearly nothing except his actions at the ball - in his entire life, he had never, ever acted so inappropriately! To be honest, he was shocked that he was still living - he would have thought that Rachel would have had his head by now. Although he had been ridiculously intoxicated at the ball, the facts were these - as he was in the midst of kissing her, he had been sobering up, but the actions felt so good, so ridiculously right, that for a moment, he had forgetten that he was a proper gentleman.
For days and days, he had avoided her like he did the previous weeks because of that silly argument. Not that they were arguing now, but this was worse; Smeth almost preferred the self-righteous anger to the confusion he felt now - for in his mind, Rachel was no longer a friend, she was someone that he liked, a woman that he had fallen for. It did not take him until the ball to figure this out, but as he thought back about it, all the signs were there, all the feelings and desires.
Like all his crushes and women in his life, it took a little while for his mind to catch up with his heart.
However, in his gut, he felt that Rachel was different. He had to fix this.
That day, feeling considerably less anxious than he had felt during the last few days, he strode down a corrider. Things were kind of looking up - he was going to see Rachel at seven, hopefully explain himself and hopefully... she wouldn't be too affronted?
Well, she did kiss him back. He could do this right?
As he was in the midst of his musing, he couldn't exactly be blamed for letting out a tiny yelp when he felt an iron-like vice grip his upper arm, right? He stumbled a bit as he was dragged into a dark, empty room. "What the-" he started to say, when bright lights came on and he blinked. "Oh, er..."
Rachel was in an emotionally torn state. She'd known that she liked Healer Smethwyk well before the ball, but she tried looking at things from a logical point of view. Truly, she hadn't known him for very long. This sort of behavior seemed awfully rushed and thoughtless, plunging into a deep feelings like this from practically the get-go.
And to be quite frank, Rachel really did believe Smeth didn't deserve her. She realized that in comparison to her, most people looked far better, but the man was practically angelic. Wouldn't it be selfish of her to want something more from him?
She didn't know what to think, and it was killing her. Not to mention that she was one part furious with Healer Smethwyck, one part completely enamoured, one part saddened-- she was many, many things that she couldn't seem to resolve or justify.
And she knew, she just knew that if she waited until 7 tonight, she would completely lose the nerve to stop avoiding him and talk about what had actually transpired at the ball.
Which was why she had purposely taken an extra few minutes on one of her rounds to position herself in the room next to one of Healer Smethwyck's patients and wait until he passed by.
After sticking her hand out to grab and haul him into the room, Rachel turned on the lights and folded her arms, looking at him as defiantly as she could muster herself to, preparing for the worst. "You said you had to talk, did you not? Now seems to be the perfect opportunity to do it."
His first thought, to be honest, that he was glad it was Rachel, not some big, scary man. However, his second thought was that he actually wished that he had been dragged into a room with a big scary man. He had counted on meeting her at seven, not... now. He nervously cleared his throat and fidgeted, looked at the ground for a moment, then looked directly at her.
He opened his mouth. What could he say that he hadn't already been said at the ball? Obviously he had been under the influence, but he could still clearly remember every single word and action that had been said and done. Alright. He had to man up. No liquid courage or mask for him to hide behind, no more excuses or running away.
"Rachel," he started, his voice low. "I like you a lot. I'm really, really sorry about my actions at the ball..." Then he trailed off, and thought for a moment. Not more than two seconds passed when he scrunched up his nose, apparently making a decision. He looked down at Rachel again, and although his face was quite serious, there was the tiniest of smiles tugging at his lips. His voice rose slightly, and his tone became firm. "Actually, you know what? I'm not sorry about my actions. If I could do it again, I would!"
Well. Apparently all logic and planning flew out the window. Almost as if he had been slipped another drink, he felt free of all the uncertainty and doubt. And if Rachel didn't reciprocate his feelings back? Well. For once in his life, Hippocrates Smethwyck would have to worry about that later.
"Sorry, Rachel, but after some deliberation, I just don't think that this is something I'm interested in pursuing."
"I can't really explain it, but I just don't feel a connection here."
"You're great--really, you are, but... I just can't handle someone like you in my life right now."
These had been the words Rachel had been expecting to come out of Healer Smethwyck's mouth. In fact, they had been the only words she'd been expecting to come out of Healer Smethwyck's mouth, so the fact that she thought he had said that he would kiss her again was a bit of an issue--albeit a small one.
"Y--you'd--kiss me again?" she asked, eyes wide.
"I'm going to take that as 'yes, Healer Smethwyck, I like you too,'" he said, unable to hide the wide grin that was beginning to spread across his face. It seemed that the feelings of elation and joy could not be contained in himself as he stepped forward, wrapped his arms around her, and captured her lips with his.
After a very long minute - or two, or three, honestly, he really wasn't keeping track - he paused, panting slightly, unsuccessfully biting back a smile. "And if I can be so forward... I would love to kiss you again. And again. And again."
"Talking," she said, looking at him with a small pout and a slight shake of the head. "Much too much talking."
There were so many other, better things she could think to do with their lips right now. One of them, in fact, they were already doing.
