I've Got a Nice Big Vampire Problem

That would leave me in my bra and underwear underneath the dress.

I would do it, if it were anyone but Conan asking. If it were the doctor asking it would have been so much better, because I would know he has told many women in his time to strip down so he could examine them for their injuries. But with Conan asking me to do it now, it meant I would have to strip down in front of him, which would be extremely awkward. And then he would probably have to tie up the strings in the back, giving him a nice view of my underwear.

Really, I was fine with my body, however shapeless it was. If it was a dare, I would strip down to my underwear in front of anybody. Just not Conan.

“Do I have to?” I squeaked, my cheeks flaming.

“Yes, the doctor needs to examine you,” Conan said, as if it were obvious. “And you can put your arms down now.”

Slowly, making sure to make no facial expression that displayed pain, I put my arms down. I peeked up at Conan through my eyelashes, seeing him looking down at me expectantly.

I desperately tried to change the conversation and side-step the inevitable. “Why’d you say, ‘Well yes,’ to my answer? Was that not what you were looking for?” Sure, the conversation subject was still embarrassing, but it was less embarrassing than the previous subject.

Conan nodded. “Yes, that was pretty much what I was looking for.”

“Pretty much?” I pushed.

“Yes,” Conan said. “I was looking for you to tell me that you understood that no man but me is to touch you now.” A smile was pushed out from my chest. That was absolutely, completely adorable. Conan didn’t smile when he looked at me. “You’re answer was actually quite pleasing,” he said. “But I will not be kissing you again.”

My beaming feeling disappeared immediately. “What?”

Conan looked at me with disgusted eyes. It was that look that made me step back and my heart pause for a moment longer than it was supposed to. He brought his eyes above my head and crossed his arms. “Do not think that because you aren’t making any faces, or noises, that I can’t tell you are in extreme pain right now? I feel absolutely revolted with myself. I refuse to kiss you if I cannot control myself enough not to damage you.”

He looked at me again and his revulsion lessened, enough to make me think that he hadn’t meant to look at me like that. “Abigail, please do not be hurt. This is in no way your fault. I take the blame completely.”

I swallowed, my throat dry. “So that look was no meant for me?” I asked quietly.

He shook his gorgeous head. “No, not at all. Anything negative I do will never be aimed toward you,” he stated. I practically sighed, immediately relieved to learn that that horrid look had not been shot at me. But then there was something else I had to clear up.

“Look, Conan, you really didn’t hurt me that bad. I’ll be fine within a few days. My back is not broken, probably just bruised. And all you have to do is learn from your mistakes.”

Conan gave me a short look. “No, I will not kiss you.”

I scowled, not happy at all. I wanted Conan to do things to me that I knew a priest would shun me for, and yet he wouldn’t even kiss me?

Of course the one boy I find whose absolutely perfect turns out to have no hormones, I thought bitterly.

“Conan-”

“Abigail, I will not budge,” he said. “Now are you able to take your pants off, or will I have to do it for you?”

I blushed again. He was so freaking blunt! “I can do it,” I muttered. I walked/waddled over to the sink, turned and leant up against it, facing Conan, who stood across the room looking at me as if he was expecting me to ask for help. I clenched my jaw, determined not to say anything. I reached behind my hospital dress and undid my jeans.

I slid my jeans down with tilting motions, because when I moved slowly it seemed to hurt less. Once my jeans were at my knees I balanced myself with the sink and pushed them off with my feet. Every move was horror.

The moment I had them off, I beamed. It had hurt like a bitch, but I had done it. I was starting to ache now as well, instead of just terrific bursts of pain. I wondered if Red was patiently waiting or just not bothering me because of the mood Conan was in.

I reached behind myself, trying to tie up the strings behind me. I winced. “Alright, that’s enough,” Conan growled. He started to move towards me, saying, “Abigail, you stubborn girl, why can’t you just accept help?”

“Would you?” I asked, my voice accusatory.

Conan moved behind me and began to tie the strings. I wondered what he thought of my butt.

“That doesn’t matter,” he said after some hesitation.

“It does so,” I told him. “You can’t get mad at someone else for not accepting help when you know you wouldn’t either.”

Conan tied the bottom knot as tight as it would go, which still left it huge on me. It hung, and my upper legs were getting an uncomfortable amount of air. He moved onto the top knot, replying with, “I never said I wouldn’t accept help.”

“You didn’t have to,” I said. “I know you wouldn’t, you know you wouldn’t. There, you don’t have to say it.”

“Abigail, it doesn’t matter what my choice would or wouldn’t be,” he said sternly. “When you are hurt, you especially should ask for help.”

“Are you saying I take inadequate care of myself?” I demanded, trying to turn around. Conan’s arm stopped me, so I just scowled at the wall.

“Not inadequate, just not up to standard,” he said.

My temper rose. “Conan, your standard is lightning fast and brutally strong. Of course I’m not going to make those standards, I’m still a human!”

He stopped arguing with me and instead said, “I do not like this.”

I sighed exasperatedly; annoyed he changes the subject on his own whim. Annoyed with the fact that I am too curious to make him drop whatever he didn’t like and argue with me until I won.

“You don’t like what, Conan?” I snapped.

“This dress,” he said. “I don’t like the idea of anyone else seeing your backside.”

I sighed again, trying to push my smile back.

“Can you see my butt with the strings tied their tightest?” I asked, trying to hide my slight amusement. I had just been angry; I didn’t want him to know he could play with my emotions as easily as he could play a piano.

“Yes.”

“It’s just the doctor, Conan.”

He swivelled himself so he was right in front of me. He looked frustrated. “I don’t care who it is.”

I smirked and turned towards the bathroom door. “Help me out,” I said, knowing the request for help would stop his complaining. He took my hand and placed his arm around me, onto my side and helped me walk out of the bathroom.

The doctor was standing there patiently, his moustache covering his subtle grin. As Conan helped me over to the dreaded bed, I wondered why the doctor was grinning. Then, not a second after I wondered, the probable answer came to me. The doctor was a vampire. He had super senses, which included hearing. He had heard our whole conversation.

I flushed a little. I felt Conan’s forearm muscle flex, while the doctor didn’t even react.
Conan put his other arm right behind my knees, as if he were going to swoop me up. I clenched my jaw and squeezed my eyes closed. Conan’s arm rested there for one moment until the arms behind my knees disappeared. I opened my eyes and looked beside me. Conan stood at full height, obviously trying to compensate for something.

“Can you study her standing up?” He demanded of the doctor.

Red nodded, not commenting on Conan’s sharpness, and stepped up to me. Conan took a few steps back, so he was behind me.

The first thing the doctor did was hold out his hand. “My name is Red,” he told me.

I smiled. I lifted a shaky arm, my shoulder blade eating itself, and said, “I’m Abigail. Nice to meet you.”

He gently took my hand and gave me a nod. Then he let go, letting my hand fall. The first thing he did was lift his arm to look at his watch. He stood there for a good thirty seconds, and then nodded. “Your heart rate is normal.” I grinned; amused by the fact he could count my heart beats without a stethoscope. He pulled a thin stick out of his white coat pocket. “Open your mouth, please.”

I opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out, saying, “Ahhhhlllllaaaaaaahhhhh.” He placed the stick on my tongue to hold it down.

The doctor smiled at me. I couldn’t smile back with the stick in my mouth, but I did my best too. “Alright,” he said, taking the gross tasting wood out of my mouth. “Your throat is fine, your breathing normal. Now that I’m sure you have no other symptoms, let me see where it hurts.”

I stood still as he moved around me, wondering exactly what Conan was thinking. I looked behind me, at Red, to see he was looking at Conan.

“May I?” He asked, as if it were completely natural to ask someone whether it was okay to touch someone else.

“Be quick about it,” I heard Conan say, or more like snap. I frowned. Red was being very polite by asking him if he could touch me. Conan, on the other hand, couldn’t suck it up enough to be at least somewhat decent.

“Conan,” I said sharply, making it clear I was not happy.

Red turned to me, saying, “Now that I’ve asked him, I’ll ask you. May I untie your strings? I need to take a better look at your torso.”

I nodded, my frown still eminent. “That’s fine.”

The doctor made quick work of the huge knots Conan had put in the hospital dress, and soon the dress fell slack on my shoulders once more.

Red pulled the back of the dress open and paused. Then he pushed the dress over so it was bunched up on my stomach and took a look at my hips.

He put his fingers firmly on the side of my thigh, or it felt like firm to me. He was probably being the gentlest he could. Then he said, “Tell me when it hurts.”

He slowly drew his fingers upwards until it was right below my hip, when stopped because I said, “Ow!”

“Okay, thank you. Now the next one.”

The next one, I said “Ow” at the same spot on the other leg.

Then came what I was not looking forward to at all.

“Now I’m going to touch your back.”

Out of a very painful examination, Red found out that my tail bone, shoulder blades, shoulders and between my shoulders were all going to have very bad bruises.

After all of that my back was left pulsing.

'There is no way I’m telling him about my collarbone as well', I thought bitterly.