Room 418, Saturday Morning

[wrongkindofsith]

Cara stood before the mirror, looking herself over. Her ruff was starched, her corset laced, her lace sleeves...also laced. A delicate looking feathered fan graced one hand, and jewelled rings the other. Her hair and make-up? Flawless.

It was time for the finishing touch. She carefully lowered the bedazzled tiara into place on top of her intricate up-do.

There. No one would believe that a fugitive princess on the run for mysterious and as yet unexplained reasons would ever dress in her full royal regalia. Which is exactly what made it the perfect disguise, and her secret would be safe...

...for now.

[Open. So very, very, open.]

Comments

[tripledmyself.livejournal.com]

Nathan had six months four months eight months two minutes three days very little time left to live. The mysterious tropical disease he'd caught from his stint in Doctors Without Borders was slowly and painfully killing him.

But, he wanted to experience the world! He wanted to live and help people! He wanted to smile at newborns and hear a child's laugh. But, it was not to be. He was slowly dying and he intended to experience as much as he could before that happened.

Despite the disease eating away at his body, Nathan still wanted to meet everyone he could. And that was why he was standing outside of Cara's door, knocking and hoping that she had a cure that he wasn't bothering whomever lived behind that door.

[wrongkindofsith]

Cara's head whipped towards the door. It couldn't be! She'd hidden her tracks too well this time, stayed under the radar.

"Who ees eet?" she called out, even as she opened the window in case she needed a quick escape.

[tripledmyself.livejournal.com]

Nathan didn't recognize the voice but that wasn't anything new. He'd heard so many voices when he'd been in the Peace Corps and during his volunteer work in war torn countries that they all tended to just become one singular word to him: help.

"My name's Nathan, ma'am," he said, letting his Irish accent be heard clearly through the closed door. He coughed several times before shaking it off. "I've been away for some time and just wanted to catch up with the town before I -- "

Die.

" -- leave again."

[wrongkindofsith]

Cara couldn't remember a Nathan or an Irishman being amongst her pursuers, but they were clever and tricky. The only reason she was still out, still free of their clutches was that she was even cleverer and even trickier.

Holding her fan in front of her face she cracked the door open. "'Ello Naathan. Ah am afraid Ay do not know a Naathan."

[tripledmyself.livejournal.com]

"Of course you don't," Nathan said, tilting his head and smiling at her obvious shyness. He'd seen that enough in the many many different people he'd cured.

(Why couldn't he cure himself? Why why why why?)

"I've just come here to -- " Die. " -- spend a bit of time and thought I'd meet some of my neighbors. I've been staying right down the hall for a few days. I have to say, it's loads better than the hut I slept in while I was in Zimbabwe."

[wrongkindofsith]

Cara eyed him under fluttering eyelashes, he didn't look familiar, but she'd learnt to be wary. All plastic surgeons had their price.

"And what was an Ahrishman doing in Zimbahbway?" She asked. "Zimbahbway is a long whay from Arelahnd." As far away as her accent was from recognisable, really.

[tripledmyself.livejournal.com]

Yes, Nathan still didn't recognize her accent but he figured that might be because of the disease that was slowly killing him. It was sapping his intelligence (which is why he'd been sent home from his job helping those in need in Kenya) and making him partially deaf. He felt like half a man. If his tear ducts worked (the disease had taken those too), he would have cried.

"Helping those who needed it," he said, sighing. "I'm a doctor, ma'am. But, I'm not one of those high priced doctors who wants to put bandaids on the common cold. I want to be where the real help's needed. That's where it's truly rewarding."

Nathan would surely barf when this was all over. For now, he was smiling pleasantly at her and trying to cover up the pain that was racking his slowly dying body. He wanted more time.

[wrongkindofsith]

"How nahble of you, Naathan," Cara remarked, even as she inwardly cursed. She was running low on funds, and a medical professional who wasn't concerned with saving the world would have replenished them long enough for her to figure out where she was headed next. For her to keep one step ahead

[tripledmyself.livejournal.com]

Oh, Nathan had plenty of money. If she was foreign, then she might not have heard of the Young & Frisky Cat Food company. His family had billions of dollars. He had a trust fun. He'd just eschewed all of that for a life of humanity and morality.

That didn't mean the money wasn't gone though. Hey, he needed a nice suit sometimes!

"Pardon my forwardness, but what is that accent?" he asked curiously. "I've been to many, many countries and met many, many people but none with an accent as distinctive and, again, I'm going to be forward, as memorable as yours."