Work Text:
Phishi had expected violence. She had prepared for kicking and screaming and swearing.
This was worse.
Phishi watched Jirillu from the far side of the turbolift. The polywater intoxication had turned him not into a jovial drunk or a wild animal, but into a giggling mess. He seemed hardly able to keep his feet under him as another peal of laughter shook him. Phishi sighed and released the handle of the turbolift, slowing their progress to a stop. Jirillu seemed hardly to notice, only sliding down the wall of the turbolift and futilely wiping at his eyes.
Phishi stayed where she was for a moment, before resigning herself to infection. She lowered herself down next to Jirillu and crossed her legs. “You’re going to have to pull yourself together. The crew can’t see you like this, you know.”
Jirillu only hiccuped in response, still grinning at some silent joke only amusing to himself.
“I’m serious.” Phishi put a hand on Jirillu’s shoulder and shook him slightly. “Are you listening to me?”
This time Jirillu turned to look at Phishi, forest-green eyes glistening. Phishi withdrew her hand, feeling her body tense.
“Am I doing good?” Jirillu’s voice trembled, but that shaky smile still remained plastered on his face.
“What?”
“Do they like me? I’m doing a good job, right?”
“You…” Phishi’s eyes flicked around the tiny turbolift. “Yes, you are. You’ll be doing an even better job if we can get you to sickbay without completely humiliating you.”
Jirillu was quiet for a long while. Long enough for Phishi to brace herself and look back at him.
He was still staring at her.
“You like me, right?”
Phishi stiffened. She opened her mouth to speak, but her throat seemed to squeeze itself tight against the words. She swallowed hard and pushed herself to her feet. “How long have we known each other, Jirillu? You should know the answer by now.”
You do like him.
You need him.
I don’t.
Phishi gritted her teeth and twisted the handle to the side once more. “Now get yourself cleaned up. We’re almost there.”