Title: Compression (part 1… of 1? Of many? depends on reception.)
Rating: All audiences
Warnings: Crappy 60s sexism. Also, not beta-d. I’m a write-and-post sort of person. I’ll edit it later. If you’d be interested in beta-ing this piece, PM me and we can exchange e-mails. :) Grammar, syntax, general story suggestions welcome!
Dedication: @mulders-boyish-enthousiasm. It’s not exactly what we talked about but I hope you like it anyway. :D
Summary: Set in early 1967, Nurse Dana Scully meets Detective Sam Hodiak.
Sam’s had just about enough of the slop they’re calling food and with sneer of disapproval, he pushes the hospital tray away from him.
“You’re not going to eat your fruit cup?” Shafe asks him, lounging in the chair beside his bed. He’s stopped by for a brief visit.
“You couldn’t pay me to eat it,” Sam replies and he wipes his hand with the paper napkin. He crumples it into a ball and tosses it aside when he’s done. It’s not really the food, it’s just being stuck here that he hates so much, “You talk to the nurses? Can I go?”
Shafe doesn’t respond but looks at Sam for a long moment with a smirk on his face, “This is just killing you, isn’t it? You know, you’re lucky you didn’t get your head cracked open. Just a couple of battered ribs and some real rough bruises, Hodiak.”
“Next time, Shafe, you’re taking the bikers and I’m taking the hippies,” Sam says.