****************************************************

Disclaimer time once again!   Sixty-sixth verse same as the 
first . .everybody *sing*:

I don't own these characters, (chorus) Paramount does!
I don't own this venue, (chorus) Paramount does!
I am making no money off of this, (chorus) Paramount does 
not either!

This story will eventually involve sex between two men, aka: 
slash.  If that is *not* your cup of tea, sweet as it is, then 
don't read it!  (simple, ain't it??) Feedback is *very* much 
appreciated, and always answered.  Flames will be passed 
around to friends and chuckled over.  :)

Yes, another series.  <sigh>  Sequel to 'Ssst', 'Growl', 
'Chuckle', 'Sob', 'Grin', 'Sigh', 'Smile', 'Yawn', 'Whisper', 
'Groan', 'Hover', 'Waffle', and 'Comfort'.

'Fidget' by Amirin <groh@iquest.net>


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Well, I got a (mostly) clean bill of health from the Doc.  I'm 
not a hundred percent, by any definition, but it's gonna take 
time.  I still get the muscle spasms, which hurt like hell, and 
sometimes it feels like my nervous system has gone off-line. 
I can't feel hot, I can't feel cold, I feel too much pain, I feel 
none.  It'll take a while to get back to normal. Fortunately, 
I've got a while.  I'm off duty for the next two weeks, pending 
medical release.

<sigh>

Now, if I can just keep from losing my mind to boredom, I'll 
be fine. I could go work out, get back some of the muscle 
mass that I lost from being out of it for five days.  But, I've 
got to take it easy on the exercise, both because of the 
spasms *and* because of the fact that if I hurt myself, I've 
only got a fifty percent chance of actually *feeling* it.  The 
Doc suggested that whatever I choose to do, I do it with 
someone else, so they can keep an eye on me. 

<snort>

Wonderful.  Like I need someone to watch me like a hawk, 
waiting for my legs to give out or my back to go into spasm. 
Oh, yeah, *big* fun. And I'm not all that comfortable around 
people, yet, either.  Or something. I'm not sure what it is. 
The crew looks . . . odd to me, for some reason.

<shrug>

I keep flashing on Harry, back when he had spots, when we 
thought he was Taresian?  He looks . . . *strange* without 
them, now.

<sigh>

I dunno what the hell I'm talking about, ignore me. 

<grumble>

One thing I *do* know, if I pace around my quarters much 
longer, I'm going to start throwing things.  It's too late for 
breakfast, but too early for lunch and I'm not really hungry, 
anyway.  

<humph> 

I missed breakfast.  I *should* be hungry. And I probably 
*am*, I just can't tell.  Dammit, I'm going to have to set up an 
alarm on the computer to remind me when to eat because I 
can't feel hunger.  Shit.

<pace>

This is nuts.  I've got to *do* something.  

<look around>

There's nothing to do.  Neelix cleaned my quarters last night 
before he left.  I didn't ask him to, or anything.  I'm not even 
sure how it happened.  We were just talking, he got up, 
started throwing clothes in the recycler, straightening things, 
fluffing pillows . . . I didn't even realize what he was doing 
until he was practically finished.

<grin>

He wasn't paying any attention, either.  Habit, I guess. 
When I hang out in the mess hall to talk with him, he's 
usually cleaning up after dinner.

<sigh>

Last night felt . . . normal.  You know?  Just . . . nice and 
normal.  Sometimes I don't think Neelix is really happy, 
unless he has something to take care of.  And for now, I 
guess that something is me. 

<shrug>

Not that I'm complaining, or anything.  Far from it.

<thoughtful pause>

I wonder if he's busy, right now.  Hmmm . . .

"Paris to Neelix."

"Neelix, here, Tom.  Are you all right?"

<smile>  "I'm fine. Bored, but fine. Some crazed Talaxian 
cleaned my quarters to within an inch of its life last night and 
I find myself with nothing to do.  You need a hand with 
anything?"

<chuckle>  "I'm starting to set up for lunch, Tom.  If you'd 
like to . . ."

"Love to.  On my way.  Paris out."


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