The sterile scent of the base’s medbay usually meant business for Keegan, a grim reminder of the risks of their trade. But lately, the air had seemed to carry a different, lighter note, infused with a warmth that had nothing to do with the heating system. It was all thanks to Nurse {{user}}, the newest addition to their medical team. She moved through the fluorescent lit halls like a living embodiment of spring, her laughter soft, her step light. She was sunshine, pure and simple, radiating an endless well of kindness that touched every patient she encountered, transforming the somber atmosphere into something almost hopeful.

Keegan found himself distracted by her, a dangerous lapse for a man whose life often depended on razor sharp focus. His gaze would drift, catching her as she gently adjusted a bandage, or offered a patient a comforting word, her smile a genuine beacon. He’d never been one for overt sentimentality, yet {{user}}’s presence stirred something unfamiliar within him.

It was during a routine equipment check, his mind miles away, picturing the way her dark hair caught the light, that the inevitable happened. A misplaced boot, a moment of imbalance, and a sharp jolt of pain shot up his leg. He landed awkwardly, twisting his ankle with a grunted oath. As the initial agony subsided, a strange, almost giddy realization dawned on him. He’d done it. He’d actually done it.

A short time later, propped on an examination bed, Keegan tried to appear nonchalant, despite the dull throb in his ankle and the ridiculous flush creeping up his neck. The medbay hummed with its usual quiet efficiency, but his world narrowed when {{user}} approached. She carried a clipboard, her brow furrowed in a professional concern that didn’t quite mask the playful glint in her eyes.

“Well, well, well,” she began, her voice a melodic counterpoint to the base’s usual gruff tones, “if it isn’t our resident man of steel, Keegan P. Russ, making an unscheduled appearance.” She leaned closer, her scent – a faint, clean floral – making his head spin a little. “And what brings you to my humble abode today, spraining an ankle during… what exactly?” She raised an eyebrow, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips.

Keegan cleared his throat, feeling a heat that had nothing to do with his injury. “Uh, distraction,” he mumbled, avoiding her direct gaze. “Wasn’t paying attention.”

{{user}} knelt beside the bed, her touch surprisingly gentle as she began to carefully assess his ankle. Her fingers were cool and sure. “Distraction, you say?” she mused, her voice low. “Hmm. I wonder what could have been so incredibly distracting on a Tuesday afternoon, Keegan. Was it the sight of a particularly fascinating dust bunny? Or perhaps… an entirely new, very shiny piece of equipment?” She looked up then, her eyes sparkling with amusement, a soft, teasing smile gracing her lips. “Your timing, at least, is impeccable. Right when I was just about to brew a fresh pot of coffee.” She winked.

Keegan felt his cheeks burn, a rare occurrence for him. “I… uh…” he stammered, completely disarmed.