Dialogue from sims with Alison and Vickie

Hobbie headed to the office and immersed himself in work until 1130. He threw his work aside and ran down to Janson's speeder. On the way to Anreson's office, he dropped by the florist. He arrived at 1155.

*

Anreson fought to stay awake all through the morning appointments. She looked up at the office chrono as the last patient left, it was 1135. She sighed, and rubbed at the back of her neck again, and took a few more painkillers. "Just a few minutes of rest first.... Then I can get back to that pile of notices..." With the door left open, she put her head in her arms on the desk... and fell asleep almost instantly.

*

Hobbie looked in the door of her office, and saw the beautiful woman asleep. He quietly came in and set the flowers on the desk. He picked her up gently, and lay her on the couch, putting his jacket over her. "We'll do lunch another time," he said quietly.

Just as he was about to leave, Anreson stirred and awakened, her neck stiff. "What...?" She looked around blearily then saw Hobbie. "I fell asleep, didn't I?" She sat up and rubbed at her stiff neck.

Hobbie sat beside her and reached out to help rub her neck. She sighed.

"I found a really nice cafe nearby, but I think you need to see a doctor instead," he said as he massaged her neck and shoulders.

She pushed his hands away then, "No. Really, I'm fine. What's this about a cafe?"

He sighed quietly. "There's a Ralltiiri cafe just across the street. I thought you might like to go."

Her eyes brightened, "There is?" She turned to face him, "I'd love to!"

He stood and took his jacket, putting it on he went over to the desk and picked up the flowers. "Oh yeah, and these are for you." He offered her his arm, "Shall we?"

"Oh!" She stood and took the flowers, then slipped her arm through his. "They're lovely!"

He smiled and led her out the door. They went down to street level, and got into the speeder, then went to the cafe.

* *

Janson jumped out of the simulator and went to go take a shower. Fel hopped out and shook his head at how he had been beaten by someone who had been in a padded room for so long.

* *

The cafe was quaint, and reminded Hobbie of the ones by the ocean. He led Anreson to a seat and pulled out her chair for her. "Wow, amazing."

"Hmm?" she looked up to him as she took the seat.

"If only we could see the ocean, I'd swear we were on Ralltiir." He sat and looked over the menu, and nearly drooled. All the items were his favourites.

She looked over her own menu at him, and chuckled. Then she dropped her eyes to see what was on it. "Oh my..."

He looked up. "What?"

She shook her head stiffly, amazed. "They have everything."

"Yeah, isn't it great?"

"I'll never be able to choose," she laughed.

"Then do like I do." He lay down the menu and closed his eyes. He hovered a finger above the menu, then lowered it.

Anreson chuckled as she watched Hobbie's way for choosing, then shrugged and followed suit. She closed her eyes, and waved a finger above the menu before tapping her choice. She opened her eyes to look. "Oh!"

Hobbie looked over to see what she had chosen.

* *

Janson relaxed in the hot shower. He became so relaxed, that he slid down the wall and fell asleep; the water still raining down on his body.

* *

It was curried cluck, she leaned forwared to see that he had chosen the curried cluck as well. "How amazing."

She nodded then chuckled. "What are the odds?"

"Glad I'm not Corellian," he said.

She laughed.

A waiter came up and Hobbie ordered for them both, including lum ale. "That's okay, isn't it?" he asked her.

She nodded, "Lum's fine."

Hobbie sat back and waited for their food to arrive. "So. Tell me about yourself."

"Oh goodness," she said as she reset the silverware. "I wouldn't know what to say!" The sudden lack of shyness to him only heightened the feeling in herself.

"Well, let's see. I know you're Amanda Anreson from Ralltiir, in the Essey mountains, and that you're a doctor of psychiatry."

"At the moment, yes."

"At the moment? That sounds like you're looking for a change." Hobbie stretched out, trying to look at ease.

"Or rather, just had one. I used to be a Flight Surgeon, almost a handful of years ago, now."

He raised his eyebrows. "Really? What Flight?"

"Oh," she fiddled with the silverware again. "I was a floater. Different squadrons at different times," she shrugged.

He nodded, "Ah." The thought that he'd really like for her to be a surgeon with the Rogues began to form in his mind. "So what made you get into psychiatry?"

"I wanted to find out why people react to combat situations the way they do, for the most part. For the other, I wanted to keep helping people."

"You're really good at that," he said, looking in her eyes.

She blushed slightly under his gaze and looked away, "I try."

"Your eyes... are so beautiful." He sat forward to lean on the table, trying to mimic what he'd seen Janson do before.

She looked down at the silverware, rearranging it yet again. "Thank you..."

She was saved further embarrassment by the waiter arriving with the lum. "Your meals will arrive shortly, sir. Madamme." He nodded and left.

Hobbie took a sip. "Not bad."

"It's good," she took a longer sip then set the glass down.

Hobbie leaned on the table and watched her. She looked up, "Uhm... is there something wrong?"

"No, not a thing," he took another swallow of his drink.

"You're staring."

"You're beautiful."

Self consciously, she took another few swallows of her ale. "Uhm..." she set the glass down again. "Thank you."

Hobbie smiled as he looked at her, and she took in a deep breath. "I wish you'd stop that."

"Stop what?" he looked at her innocently.

"Looking at me like that," she replied quietly.

He dropped his eyes. "Oh. Sorry."

Well, at least now he's acting more like himself, she thought. "It's alright," she looked towards the waiter-door.

He looked back to her and smiled.

The waiter arrived with their curried cluck, and set the dishes before them.

Anreson sighed in relief, and turned to eat her food.

Hobbie ate as well, watching her the entire time.

She felt slightly uncomfortable under his gaze, and didn't look up from her plate.

He looked around the cafe. "I really like this place. I'll have to remember it."

"I certainly will," she said just before taking a long sip of lum. She looked up.

"We should come here for dinner one night," he smiled.

"Perhaps," she nodded.

"Does that mean you will go out with me again?"

She chuckled. "Perhaps."

"Is 'perhaps' the only thing you know how to say?" he asked with a grin.

She looked at the ceiling as though in thought for a moment, then back to him. "Perhaps," she smirked.

He laughed, "Beautiful and funny. I can get used to that."

She went back to eating her meal quietly.

Hobbie finished his ale. "You know, the Rogues don't have a medic."

"Really? You ought to," Anreson said as she finished her meal and went for another sip of her ale.

"How would you like to be our medic?"

She shrugged, "I wouldn't mind going back to being a Chief Flight Surgeon, but I doubt I can just up and ask for it."

"No, but I could recomend it for you," he smiled softly.

"Are you sure that's such a good idea, Major?" she raised an eyebrow.

He shrugged, "Why not?"

"Just asking," she gave him a small smile, then looked down at her wrist chrono, wincing slightly as the pain medication had now worn off. She sighed, "I need to head back soon."

He noticed her wince, and looked concerned. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Will you do me a favour?"

"Depends on the favour."

"If you don't feel better in the next few hours, will you please go to see a doctor?"

"I don't need to go see a doctor, I AM a doctor, Derek," she said in frustration.

He looked down to the table and sighed, then blinked once. He looked up at Anreson, "You just called me Derek."

She suddenly realized what she'd done. "Uhm... sorry - that was how you signed the note. Forgive me."

"Well, it's my name," he smiled. "It's just that I'm not used to being called by it."

"What would you rather I call you then?"

"No," he reassured her. "It's okay. I... I like being called Derek."

"I'm glad," she finished off her lum. "It's a good name."

"Thanks," he leaned back in his chair again, "So. You have anything to do this afternoon?"

She shrugged, "I have a patient towards the end of the day, but beside that... just some medical reporting to go over."

* *

Janson wearily woke up in the shower, seeing double. "Uhhhh...." He reached up and turned off the water, using the spigot to pull himself to his feet. Slowly he made his way to his locker and got dressed. When he finished up, he closed the locker and reached into his pocket for the speeder-key, and didn't find it.

He slapped his forehead, then winced. "I forgot, gave'm ta Hobs..."

He headed for the lift, then slowly made his way back to the apartment he shared with Hobbie. Once he entered, he crashed onto the couch, falling back to sleep instantly.

* *

Hobbie looked outside as he heard a sudden boom. "Uh oh. Lightning storm."

Anreson looked down and shuddered, "I hate those."

"Well, would you like to... come over to my apartment? We could ride out the storm there."

"I... I suppose so."

"It's not far, and we have a ton of holoflicks," he told her.

She smiled, "That sounds like fun then."

Hobbie pulled some cred-chits out and left them on the table, then led her to the speeder. She recognized the speeder and half smiled. He opened the door for her as another lightning bolt hit a building nearby. "That was close."

Anreson jumped, then nodded, quickly slipping into the speeder. Hobbie got into the driver's side, and quickly made way to the apartment complex while she fearfully watched the storm brew above them.

He reached over and took her hand, squeezing it comfortingly. She looked over and smiled at him thankfully, then nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of another nearby strike. She winced in pain at the jolt to her neck, then returned to eyeing the storm warily.

Hobbie soon pulled into the Base's parking deck, and put the speeder in Janson's spot. He got out and helped her out as well. She held onto his hand, watching what she could see of the sky warily. He lead her to the lift, "We'll be there in just a moment."

Anreson nodded and stepped into the lift, glad to be out of the elements, for the most part.

Within a few moments, they stepped out into a hallway. "Right this way, M'lady."

"Thank you," she followed him as he took her hand and led her down the hall of officer's quarters to his door..

He keyed it open and led her in, letting the door shut and automatically lock behind them. "Welcome."

She looked around the apartment, "It's lov-" she stopped as she saw Janson asleep on the couch, then lowered her voice. "He must have had a wonderful time last nite, if he's taking a nap in the middle of the day."

Janson lay sprawled out on the couch, still wearing his jacket, and his hair still wet.

Hobbie went over and nudged his friend with his knee. "Yo! Dude, wake up!"

He groaned, moving his head slightly from side to side.

"Wes, you're wet. You're making the couch wet, and not in a good way."

His eyes squeezed more tightly shut for a moment as he groaned again.

"Wes, we have company. Get up," Hobbie told him.

He finally, slowly, blinked awake. "Wha...?"

Anreson came over to the couch and knelt down beside it, concerned. "Is something wrong, Wes?"

"Hey man, are you okay?" Hobbie asked his friend with worry.

Janson looked around the room. "How'd I get back here..." He tried to sit up, but just held his head and groaned again.

Hobbie looked down at Anreson, "He doesn't look too good."

"I'm fine... just tired."

She put a hand on his shoulder. "Wes, how hard did you hit that wall, when those thieves first attacked?"

"You hit the wall?"

Janson saw the doctor for the first time. "I don't remember, but I'm fine."

She frowned. "I think you have a concussion Wes, you can't go back to sleep."

"I just need to take a nap." He tried to stand but got woozy, "Right here..."

Hobbie caught the shorter man and lowered him to the couch. "I don't think so."

Anreson winced as she turned her head to face Hobbie, "We need to get him back to the hospital."

"Okay, but if we do, you get looked at too."

Janson's eyes opened wider. "NO! No more doctors."

"Yes Wes, doctors."

Anreson stood and spoke in her CFS ((Chief Flight Surgeon)) voice. "Major Janson, if you want I'll take care of you, but you need to go to the hospital for a CT scan... and you are coming with us to the hospital."

Hobbie looked outside at the storm. "I hope this thing gets over quick."

She shot a glance outside and pushed away the fear in her heart. "Me too." She looked back to Janson. "*And* you have to stay awake until we do."

"No, I don't need to." Janson stood, this time making it successfully to his feet. "I'm fine."

Hobbie grabbed Janson's arm and held him up. "Yes you are. Don't you dare give me any crap," he answered the first statement.

Anreson was a handful of centimetres taller than Janson, and she crossed her arms looking at him evenly. "No. You are not," she answered his second.

"Yes I am... No I'm not... Make up your minds. Meanwhile, I'm going to take a nap." Janson sat back down and closed his eyes.

"No naps. You are not fine, and you are coming to the hospital!" she told him. He didn't make any comment, so she reached over and shook him. "Major Janson."

Hobbie picked him up and started practically dragging his friend to the door. "Come on, Janson. Let's go see my friends."

"Just one little nap," he whined.

"No," Anreson told him as she followed Hobbie through the door.

Hobbie led them to the lift, and tried to keep the semi-conscious talking. "Stay awake Janson. Who'd you sim against today?" The lift soon arrived and they got on. "Janson, answer me."

"Major Janson," Anreson shook his shoulder.

"Go 'way..."

"No, Wes. Who did you sim against?"

"Uh... Jag... Fel..." his speech was slurred.

They got off the lift on the parking deck level. Hobbie carried Janson to the speeder. Anreson opened the door and got into the back seat beside him.

"Can you handle him?" Hobbie went about putting up the top.

"If I could handle him before, I can handle him now," she told Hobbie. "You need to stay awake, Wes, do you understand me?" she shook him.

Hobbie finished getting the top up, and climbed in. "So, you got to take out Fel. What'd you do?"

"Don' wanna talk..."

"You are going to talk," Hobbie started the speeder and headed for the hospital.

Anreson held Janson upright with an arm around behind him. "Aw, come on Wes... I'd love to hear what happened."

"Did you take out Fel?"

"I jus'... outmanooovered 'im..."

"How?" Anreson asked as Hobbie sped through what little traffic there was on their way to the hospital.

"Wes? Tell me how you out maneuvered him."

Eyes closed, Janson didn't say anything.

"Wes..." She shook him.

"Damnit Wes, hold on," Hobbie muttered from his place in the front.

"I'm holdin... you drive bad... Never givin' you speeder key 'gin."

Anreson chuckled, "So Wes," she continued in a conversational tone. "Did you go into a roll, then fake right, dive left, and come up behind him?"

"Don' remember, we mov'd too fast...." He rolled his head to look at the doctor. "How's da lip?" he wearily reached up to touch her face.

She stopped his hand and held it in hers. "My lip's fine."

Janson smiled. "Tha's good. Hobbie take care of you..." He closed his eyes, "takes good care of everyone..."

"I'm sure he does," she shook him. "No sleeping yet, Wes."

He blinked, "When c'n I sleep?"

Hobbie slid up to the front of the hospital and jumped out. "Need some help here!" he shouted.

A medic rushed up, "What do we have?"

"When I get you into a tank, come on." She opened the door and started to help him out, then pulled a hand behind her neck and winced as she got out and turned to face the medic.

"Can we skip the tank and just go to sleep?" Janson groaned.

"Concussion," she told the medic. "He needs a CT scan to confirm, and then some time in a tank."

"Two possible concussions," Hobbie told him at the same time. "They both need attention immediately."

She turned to look at Hobbie. "I don't have a concussion, I have whiplash," she frowned.

The first medic waved at a doctor to take care of Janson. "We'll decide that, Dr. Anreson," he helped her inside.

*

Janson looked at a woman beside the second medic. "H'llo... You gonna be my doctor?"

Hobbie followed them both.

"My friend there likes that one..." he waved a hand at Anreson. "Maybe I should start finding a doctor for myself as well..."

"I don' crash as much... but I will if it gets me such a nice lady..."

The doctor raised his eyebrows at Janson. "Come along, Major. This is quite different. Hobbie is bringing you in instead of the other way around."

Janson waved an arm in the air, it was almost as though he were drunk. "Don' matter... both here... an' someone goin' in tank... jus' like ol' times..."

"Wes, The doc'll take care of you."

*

"It is only whiplash, I know what I"m talking about," Anreson frowned at the first medic.

"I know what difficult patients you doctors can make, but let's check anyway," the first medic told her.

"I'm telling you there's nothing wrong that a few painkillers and some rest won't cure."

"That's what Wes was saying, Amanda. Go."

"Wes isn't a doctor," she argued. "I am. There is a difference."

"Diff'rence.... She's cuter...."

Hobbie chuckled, "Well, he's got that right."

*

The first medic took Dr. Anreson along behind Janson. "Yes, but we're checking anyway."

Anreson turned to glare at Hobbie, then put a hand to her neck as she winced in pain. Both the pilot and doctor were taken in to get scanned.

Janson was put through first, and it was discovered that he had a severe concussion. "Where shall we put him, Doctor?"

"Bacta tank four."

"Aw... not da tank again.... Hobbie, do this one for me..."

Hobbie shook his head, "No way, Wes. It's your turn."

"I saved her life... You owe me...."

"I know, Wes. I promise I'll pay you back. Just go get better."

*

"Now for Doctor Anreson," he waved her towards the table.

"I'm telling you, I don't need any-" she was cut off as she was pushed gently to lay on the table and run through the machine.

"Slight concussion, extreme whiplash. Bacta tank three."

"I don't need bacta. Just let me go home, I'm fine. The concussion's only slight, it will heal."

The medics ignored her protests and took them both to another room and changed them to go into the tank. Hobbie waited out in the lobby.

Janson whistled as Anreson was changed, "Nice outfit Doc... Now I see why Hobs likes ya..."

Anreson glared at him, "Quiet, you."

They both soon were lowered into tanks side by side. "Thank the Force. Now they get to be quiet."

Janson instantly closed his eyes and fell asleep with the medications.

Anreson fought unconsciousness, but her eyes finally closed slowly as the general anisthetic put her to sleep as well.

Hobbie was escorted into the room and stopped before their tanks. "Thanks Wes, for making sure she was okay; and Amanda... thanks for helping me get Wes here."

* **

Major Derek “Hobbie” Klivian stood in front of two bacta tanks. One held his best friend, Major Wes Janson. The other held the woman who currently held his heart, Doctor Amanda Anreson. Before coming in, he had called Anreson’s office to let them know she was hurt. He also had called Wedge, who wasn’t happy that another of his pilots was in bacta. Sighing, he walked up to Janson’s tank and began to tap lightly on it.

“Wes, you idiot. Thanks for keeping her safe.” He chuckled. “I wouldn’t be surprised at all if she ends up liking you more than me. After all, you saved her life and I forced her to go see a doctor.”

He paused and looked up. “You big numbskull. Why didn’t you go see a doctor sooner? You knew you were hurt. Oh wait, who the Hoth am I talking to? Someone more stubborn than a rancor. Sith, Wes, if Amanda and I hadn’t shown up when we did, who knows what might have happened.”

He sighed. “Please, don’t do this again.” He turned and looked at Anreson, “Unless you’re trying to save her.”

He looked up at her face. He couldn’t see her dark eyes, because they were shut. Her long black hair floated behind her in the bacta. “Amanda,” he whispered quietly. “Please don’t be angry with me.”

He moved over and placed his hand on the glass. “I could tell you were in pain. Trust me, I’m an expert at hiding pain... or at least trying to. I didn’t like that you were hurt and wouldn’t let me help.”

Watching her, he replayed the past two days in his head. He so much wanted to stay the night with her, but not on the couch. Had Janson not been at the apartment when they arrived, maybe he would have had her in his own bed.

No, wrong thought. It’s too soon. He groaned and leaned his head against the cool glass. “Why can’t I be more like Wes?"

“Because you’re a true gentleman,” he answered his own question. He looked back up at Anreson. “Get well soon.” He kissed his fingers and pressed them against the tank. Then, he turned and walked out to get some caf. It was going to be a long evening.

*******END*******