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ladykfIn Hojo’s experience, there was never a good time to be sick. In was inconvenient, occasionally messy, and it made him even more impatient than usual. The lab technicians made themselves scarce or were walking on eggshells, and he all but threw Hollander out before dealing with any of his nonsense. His head was thumping, chest tight and threatening the kind of coughing that forbade working around anything but papers. Not that office work was bad, precisely, but he rather enjoyed a more hands-on approach and being active.
Not today. Not with this nasty little rhinovirus clogging his airways. There was a board meeting as well, and he simply opted out of it. If someone wanted him that badly, they could damn well come themselves; he didn’t feel like dealing with the fuss of it all. Honestly at this point, going back to his apartment was starting to sound unusually appealing.
So of course, someone would come. The quiet tap of dress shoes was deliberate, a Turk making sure he was heard, and Hojo gave Veld a watery glare over the rim of his glasses. “What?”
He got an arched brow and the faintest twitch of lips, emotion there and gone before it could be read with how practiced the Turk Director’s restraint had gotten. “Files from the meeting. You look like hell.”
“I very seriously doubt you care,” Hojo snipped, watching him set the file down with a look of utter disdain.
“I don’t. But you out of commission makes me more work than you doing your job,” Veld said smoothly, shrugging. Things hadn’t been the same between them since Valentine’s untimely death; the fallout after Kalm’s bombing had merely widened the gulf. “I’d rather not pile it on.”
“Far be it from me to inconvenience you, Faraman.” Hojo cleared his throat, chest clenching a moment against a cough and glaring all the more when the second brow joined the first. “Was there something you needed? I have work to do.”
Veld appeared to consider it a moment, lips pressed tight. Something in his tone softened just a touch in a way neither man would acknowledge. “Get some rest, Hojo.”
For once, Hojo looked away first, quiet. “Departments don’t run themselves. I’m sure you have your own business to attend.”
Veld made a quiet, noncommittal sound. There was nothing else to say, and he saw himself out.
Hojo certainly didn’t think of the look he’d been given again. He wasn’t that sick.
