Duty
by Diane Kachmar
Lee was glad to come in.
The water was barely above freezing, and even with the wetsuit for protection,
it was still cold. The water in the well wasn't any warmer. He caught the rails
on the ladder, bracing for the weight he'd feel once his tanks cleared the
water. He swung himself around so he could sit on the rim, and leaned down to
pull off his fins.
He straightened
abruptly, startled, when he felt someone's hand on his harness. He yanked off
his face mask and turned sharply, relaxing when he realized it was only Doc.
Jamieson was kneeling beside him, taking his tanks off him.
"What are you doing
here, Jamie?" he asked. "I didn't call for assistance."
"I know." Jamieson
pulled on the tanks, and Lee shrugged off the harness, letting them slide into
the Doctor's hands. "Thought I'd lend a hand. It's pretty cold out
there."
"I'm fine,
Jamie." Lee smiled wryly. "It's my transmitter that hates cold."
He let his fins drop to the deck.
"We noticed." Jamieson reached toward the zipper on the
front of the wetsuit top. "Sparks wants to see it."
Lee broke the seal under
his chin, yanking his hood off. He handed it to Jamieson, who folded it and put
it aside.
“There wasn't anything
out there, Jamie, only green water and ice." Lee pulled his arm out of the
clinging sleeve as Jamieson yanked on it. He rolled, pulling his legs clear of
the water as the surface rippled. Off astern he heard the automatic drain cycle
start. Jamieson reached down, lifting his foot, and began to undo his boot.
"I can do it."
Lee drew his foot back sharply in exasperation.
Jamieson refused to
relinquish his grip. "You're still not one hundred percent yet, so stop
arguing." He removed the boot deftly and started on the other one.
"Taking over,
Jamie?" Lee submitted, but he couldn't keep the teasing note from his
voice.
"Somebody has to
take care of you," Jamieson growled in a gruff tone. "You keep coming
back in pieces." His hands moved up, removing the sheath of Lee's diving
knife.
"It's never my
intention -- " Lee started to squirm out of the wet suit bottoms.
"Of course
not," Jamieson agreed. "Somehow you manage to -- " The Doctor
began yanking down a wetsuit leg.
Lee favored him with a
level gaze. "I have a job to do," he stated quietly.
"And you insist on
doing it, even though you shouldn't be diving for two more days."
"You released
me," Lee shrugged.
"Not to go diving,
I didn't." Jamieson gave a sharp tug on the resisting wetsuit.
"Look, nothing
happened."
"We were lucky.
Suppose something had happened when you were out of contact? How would we have
known to send help? We could barely keep visual on you as it was."
"Is that why you
called me back?" Lee asked, looking at Jamieson sharply.
"I didn't, even
though I wanted to. That was the Admiral's idea." Jamieson gave him a
disgusted look. "You want another reaction?" Jamieson gripped the
edge of Lee's thermal shirt and began pulling upward.
"That won't happen
again." Lee's voice came out muffled as the shirt passed over his head.
"We checked out every tank on board." He twisted free of the sleeves.
"Jamie! You don't have to undress me. I'm perfectly capable -- "
"Indulge me."
Jamieson draped a towel over his head suddenly. "Here. Dry off. Before you
catch pneumonia."
"Sometimes I think
you're worse than the Admiral." Lee rubbed the towel across his damp hair.
He tossed his thermal bottoms aside, reaching for the uniform Jamieson laid beside
him. "Khakis?" he questioned. "Why not sick bay greens?"
"What I want and
what I can expect are two entirely different things. You're not on sick list
anymore."
"I've been taking
it easy, like you said."
"And who's idea was
it to go diving?" Jamieson inquired.
"I have
responsibilities, Jamie," Lee countered.
"So have I."
Lee jumped as the cold
stethoscope touched his back. "Christ!" he blurted. "You might
warn a guy."
"That takes all the
fun out of it." Jamieson grinned wickedly. "Now breathe deeply. one -
two."
"I told you I'm
fine," he said after Jamieson concluded his examination. "Mind if I
put my shirt on?"
"No, go ahead.
Here." Jamieson extended a comb.
"You don't miss a
thing, do you, Jamie?" Lee tucked his shirt in rapidly, then ran the comb
through his dark curly hair.
"I try not
to," Jamieson replied, placing his stethoscope back in his bag. "No
more diving today, you hear me. We'll see about tomorrow."
"Jamie! I've got --
" Lee started to protest.
"And I'm the
Doctor," Jamieson cut him off. "You want to be back on sick
list?"
"No," Lee
answered emphatically.
"Then you consult
me, before you do anything. That's my job."
"You finished with
me?"
"For the time
being," Jamie granted. "Do we understand each other?"
"All right,"
Lee acquiesced. "I'll be in the control room."
"Until four
o'clock."
"Jamie, I can't --
" his protest subsided under a stern look from Jamieson. "Very well,
Doctor," he stressed the title ironically. "Eight bells and the
Captain's off. That's no way to run a ship."
"You'll be back to
full duty before you know it," Jamieson reassured him, with a laugh.
"Yeah," Lee
laced up his oxfords quickly. "I have a report to make."
"Try the nose.
That's where I left the Admiral."
"Thanks,
Jamie."
"No charge," Jamieson
called after him.
Lee made his way to the
front wardroom. He had two hours before Jamieson would come up and drag him
below. He intended to make the most of them.