and the process of laying groundwork for my take on @romans-art‘s soviet spies lapidot AU begins…
The surgeon’s voice was flat with practiced detachment. He talked like Peridot didn’t already know. Like she couldn’t feel the lack of it, the way the thin hospital bedsheets draped over her knee.
“I’m sorry,” he intoned. It was rehearsed by now. He probably knew the lines by rote. She pitied him that. “The damage was extensive.”
“It’s fine,” she said.
She had gone off-script. He hesitated.
“I knew this was coming before we’d even left the field.” She looked up at him, mustering up a dimmed version of her usual grin. “Thank you, sir. I know you and your team did what you could.”