Duty

by Diane Kachmar

Lee was glad to come in. The water was barely above freezing, and even with the wetsuit for protection, it was still cold. The water in the well wasn't any warmer. He caught the rails on the ladder, bracing for the weight he'd feel once his tanks cleared the water. He swung himself around so he could sit on the rim, and leaned down to pull off his fins.

He straightened abruptly, startled, when he felt someone's hand on his harness. He yanked off his face mask and turned sharply, relaxing when he realized it was only Doc. Jamieson was kneeling beside him, taking his tanks off him.

"What are you doing here, Jamie?" he asked. "I didn't call for assistance."

"I know." Jamieson pulled on the tanks, and Lee shrugged off the harness, letting them slide into the Doctor's hands. "Thought I'd lend a hand. It's pretty cold out there."

"I'm fine, Jamie." Lee smiled wryly. "It's my transmitter that hates cold." He let his fins drop to the deck.

"We noticed." Jamieson reached toward the zipper on the front of the wetsuit top. "Sparks wants to see it."

Lee broke the seal under his chin, yanking his hood off. He handed it to Jamieson, who folded it and put it aside.

“There wasn't anything out there, Jamie, only green water and ice." Lee pulled his arm out of the clinging sleeve as Jamieson yanked on it. He rolled, pulling his legs clear of the water as the surface rippled. Off astern he heard the automatic drain cycle start. Jamieson reached down, lifting his foot, and began to undo his boot.

"I can do it." Lee drew his foot back sharply in exasperation.

Jamieson refused to relinquish his grip. "You're still not one hundred percent yet, so stop arguing." He removed the boot deftly and started on the other one.

"Taking over, Jamie?" Lee submitted, but he couldn't keep the teasing note from his voice.

"Somebody has to take care of you," Jamieson growled in a gruff tone. "You keep coming back in pieces." His hands moved up, removing the sheath of Lee's diving knife.

"It's never my intention -- " Lee started to squirm out of the wet suit bottoms.

"Of course not," Jamieson agreed. "Somehow you manage to -- " The Doctor began yanking down a wetsuit leg.

Lee favored him with a level gaze. "I have a job to do," he stated quietly.

"And you insist on doing it, even though you shouldn't be diving for two more days."

"You released me," Lee shrugged.

"Not to go diving, I didn't." Jamieson gave a sharp tug on the resisting wetsuit.

"Look, nothing happened."

"We were lucky. Suppose something had happened when you were out of contact? How would we have known to send help? We could barely keep visual on you as it was."

"Is that why you called me back?" Lee asked, looking at Jamieson sharply.

"I didn't, even though I wanted to. That was the Admiral's idea." Jamieson gave him a disgusted look. "You want another reaction?" Jamieson gripped the edge of Lee's thermal shirt and began pulling upward.

"That won't happen again." Lee's voice came out muffled as the shirt passed over his head. "We checked out every tank on board." He twisted free of the sleeves. "Jamie! You don't have to undress me. I'm perfectly capable -- "

"Indulge me." Jamieson draped a towel over his head suddenly. "Here. Dry off. Before you catch pneumonia."

"Sometimes I think you're worse than the Admiral." Lee rubbed the towel across his damp hair. He tossed his thermal bottoms aside, reaching for the uniform Jamieson laid beside him. "Khakis?" he questioned. "Why not sick bay greens?"

"What I want and what I can expect are two entirely different things. You're not on sick list anymore."

"I've been taking it easy, like you said."

"And who's idea was it to go diving?" Jamieson inquired.

"I have responsibilities, Jamie," Lee countered.

"So have I."

Lee jumped as the cold stethoscope touched his back. "Christ!" he blurted. "You might warn a guy."

"That takes all the fun out of it." Jamieson grinned wickedly. "Now breathe deeply. one - two."

"I told you I'm fine," he said after Jamieson concluded his examination. "Mind if I put my shirt on?"

"No, go ahead. Here." Jamieson extended a comb.

"You don't miss a thing, do you, Jamie?" Lee tucked his shirt in rapidly, then ran the comb through his dark curly hair.

"I try not to," Jamieson replied, placing his stethoscope back in his bag. "No more diving today, you hear me. We'll see about tomorrow."

"Jamie! I've got -- " Lee started to protest.

"And I'm the Doctor," Jamieson cut him off. "You want to be back on sick list?"

"No," Lee answered emphatically.

"Then you consult me, before you do anything. That's my job."

"You finished with me?"

"For the time being," Jamie granted. "Do we understand each other?"

"All right," Lee acquiesced. "I'll be in the control room."

"Until four o'clock."

"Jamie, I can't -- " his protest subsided under a stern look from Jamieson. "Very well, Doctor," he stressed the title ironically. "Eight bells and the Captain's off. That's no way to run a ship."

"You'll be back to full duty before you know it," Jamieson reassured him, with a laugh.

"Yeah," Lee laced up his oxfords quickly. "I have a report to make."

"Try the nose. That's where I left the Admiral."

"Thanks, Jamie."

"No charge," Jamieson called after him.

Lee made his way to the front wardroom. He had two hours before Jamieson would come up and drag him below. He intended to make the most of them.

End