The Twisted Skein


Blue Photon waited nervously in Doctor Fitzgerald's office. He hadn't been in Medical for over a year not since he was released from the DIS cells after his brief imprisonment, during the Security Crisis. Then he had been treated for injuries sustained under torture injuries like the ones Tango had shown to the PPC at large to convince them to destroy the DIS and had been confined to a bed for weeks. Now, he wasn't wounded no one was but if anything, he was more nervous than he had been that time.

Tango, sitting on the chair behind the Doctor's desk, watched her partner as he paced back and forth. "You don't need to get so worked up," she said with a tinge of amusement. "It's perfectly natural, after all."

"Yeah, well, so's this," Blue retorted. "I know, I read books."

"Books are designed to tell a story," Tango pointed out. "The pacing is all very dramatic, but it's not actually necessary."

"Oh, it's necessary, all right," Blue muttered savagely. "I wish I could so something, help out or something."

Tango laughed. "Help? Blue, I think you helped enough already."

The young man blushed. "That's not what... shut up," he mumbled. "You know what I mean."

"Of course I do," she said, nodding agreeably, "but Blue, you don't have any sort of medical training, there's nothing you could do."

"I could provide moral support," he said indignantly, and Tango laughed again.

"You mean, let Immy share your nervousness? No, Blue, I think it's best you stay right here."

"No, there's no need," Doctor Fitzgerald said, pushing the door open and stepping into the office. "You can come with me now, Agent Photon."

Blue hurried down the corridor, overtaking the doctor he knew the way, after all and reached the room where Imbolc lay faster than should be possible. There she was, drenched in sweat and leaning limply against the headboard. And there, in her arms...

"Green!" Blue whispered in amazement, staring in wonder at the tiny bundle in Imbolc's arms. Though his hair was blue, and Imbolc's a light brown, their son's sparse, flat against his head, but still there was a bright, vibrant green. He looked at the woman whose life was joined with his. "That's for bravery."

"Bravery and strength of heart," Imbolc said in her tired voice, smiling weakly. "Just like his namesake."

Blue smiled, thinking about his father, and about the legendary king he had been named for. "Arthur Telton," he said, looking down at the baby in his wife's arms, "welcome to your world."

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