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With blackjack! and hookers!
Oh, wait.
Finally gave in the the slash impulse. Comments? Questions? Screams of horror?
Jewel has a naughty mind : )
Untitled. Beta version. Het/Gen (by Deadwood standards), Doc/Jewel
"The rationale of the occurrence of structural shortening of muscles is very simple. When, from any cause, they are thrown into a state of constant contraction, either passive (from repose of a limb in one position), or active (from spasm), they are not solely diminished in bulk, as commonly stated, from want of use, but the muscular fibres become permanently shortened and inelastic; and provided a period sufficient for the complete renewal of their integrant parts has elapsed, they are necessarily re-deposited positively shorter, to accommodate them to the altered relation of the surrounding parts....
Another striking circumstance which, during childhood, accelerates the progress of this disproportion between the contracted muscles and adjacent parts, arises from the relation that is known to exist between the growth and development of different parts, and their maintenance in a state of activity by a proper and constant exercise of their several functions. Whilst the muscles on one side of a limb remain contracted, and undergo interstitial shortening, in the manner I have described, the bones, gradually advancing towards their full development, are elongated, the disproportion between them and the contracted muscles is augmented, and the deformity of the limb necessarily aggravated."
Little, "On Ankylosis, or Stiff-Joint: A Practical Treatise on the Contractions and Deformities Resulting from Diseases of Joints."
Doc came downstairs still in his shirtsleeves. He'd washed his hands (more than once) in the basin she'd brought up. Jewel wondered if a man could turn queer from seeing so much snatch, and in the way of it being his business, but then Doc had seen to most of the men in the camp as well, which would surely put a body off cock for God's own eternity.
"You want some tea, Doc, before you go?" She considered his scrawny frame and calculated on what Al would pretend not to notice was gone. "And some toast?" He followed her into the kitchen.
"First I want to check how your brace is treating you. May I observe your gait?"
"My gate?!" She pantomimed raising her skirt. Embarrassed, Doc growled,
"I want to see how you walk." Carefully, she stepped up and down the room a few times, as the doc stood in a corner, chin in his hand. Funny how she felt more ill at ease being looked at now than when she used to drag her leg. She hadn't felt so, that first night by the piano.
"Does the knowledge you are closely observed make you tense your muscles?" She nodded vigorously. "I shall take that into account. You ain't feeling uncomfortable otherwise? Any pains in your back?"
"A little," she admitted, "just above my arse."
"The change to your...to your walk, brought by the brace, affects your whole posture. May I examine your spine?" Jewel put her hands against the edge of the kitchen table and turned her back to him.
"Do your worst." She wondered why she'd said it, and was sorry. It was rare enough a man touched her, much less one who meant her no harm. As he ran his hand slowly down her spine, she thought of what he'd told her once, that the spinal cord was like a telegraph wire between the brain and the body; and wondered if he could feel what it told when he lifted a stray wisp of hair off the nape of her neck and tucked it back into her bun.
Losing the preacher had been eating him bad that night, curled up in the corner with the bottle. It weren't till she'd taken both his hands and squeezed that he'd raised his shaggy head to look in her face, and his eyes had been red in their sockets. She hadn't minded the whisky, since he'd held her all the tighter to steady himself, and he'd willingly repeated all the gallant nonsense she told him to say. He'd even kissed her curled hand before bidding her goodnight, and that had taken her by surprise. She'd lain awake with the memory of it, nights since - and thinking of it now she leaned a little harder into the table's edge, and wondered if there were any chance he'd like to examine her spine from the front side as well.
Doc in the here-and-now interrupted her thoughts.
"Do you know anything of the circumstances of your birth?"
"They said at the orphanage my Ma must've tried to smother me, and didn't finish the job." She spoke without bitterness - it was the true that they'd said it, and likely true in itself as well - but her words froze his hands on the shoulders. There was silence behind her back for what felt an age, and then he pulled her round about to face him.
"It's my belief you were deprived of oxygen for a short time at birth, probably due to a difficult labour. That the asphixia damaged the part of your brain that governs voluntary movement - but only that part---" Jewel tilted forward and kissed him. When he pulled herself away, Doc's eyes were the size of saucers.
"Voluntary movement," she said, then suddenly blinked hard. A moment later, someone kissed her eyelids, first the right one then the left. Opening them, she saw Doc looking even more astonished, this time at his own boldness.
"I think," he began, "I'll have that tea --" Jewel clutched him as tight as ever she held a tray or a broom, and stopped his chat with her lips.
Oh, wait.
Finally gave in the the slash impulse. Comments? Questions? Screams of horror?
Jewel has a naughty mind : )
Untitled. Beta version. Het/Gen (by Deadwood standards), Doc/Jewel
"The rationale of the occurrence of structural shortening of muscles is very simple. When, from any cause, they are thrown into a state of constant contraction, either passive (from repose of a limb in one position), or active (from spasm), they are not solely diminished in bulk, as commonly stated, from want of use, but the muscular fibres become permanently shortened and inelastic; and provided a period sufficient for the complete renewal of their integrant parts has elapsed, they are necessarily re-deposited positively shorter, to accommodate them to the altered relation of the surrounding parts....
Another striking circumstance which, during childhood, accelerates the progress of this disproportion between the contracted muscles and adjacent parts, arises from the relation that is known to exist between the growth and development of different parts, and their maintenance in a state of activity by a proper and constant exercise of their several functions. Whilst the muscles on one side of a limb remain contracted, and undergo interstitial shortening, in the manner I have described, the bones, gradually advancing towards their full development, are elongated, the disproportion between them and the contracted muscles is augmented, and the deformity of the limb necessarily aggravated."
Little, "On Ankylosis, or Stiff-Joint: A Practical Treatise on the Contractions and Deformities Resulting from Diseases of Joints."
Doc came downstairs still in his shirtsleeves. He'd washed his hands (more than once) in the basin she'd brought up. Jewel wondered if a man could turn queer from seeing so much snatch, and in the way of it being his business, but then Doc had seen to most of the men in the camp as well, which would surely put a body off cock for God's own eternity.
"You want some tea, Doc, before you go?" She considered his scrawny frame and calculated on what Al would pretend not to notice was gone. "And some toast?" He followed her into the kitchen.
"First I want to check how your brace is treating you. May I observe your gait?"
"My gate?!" She pantomimed raising her skirt. Embarrassed, Doc growled,
"I want to see how you walk." Carefully, she stepped up and down the room a few times, as the doc stood in a corner, chin in his hand. Funny how she felt more ill at ease being looked at now than when she used to drag her leg. She hadn't felt so, that first night by the piano.
"Does the knowledge you are closely observed make you tense your muscles?" She nodded vigorously. "I shall take that into account. You ain't feeling uncomfortable otherwise? Any pains in your back?"
"A little," she admitted, "just above my arse."
"The change to your...to your walk, brought by the brace, affects your whole posture. May I examine your spine?" Jewel put her hands against the edge of the kitchen table and turned her back to him.
"Do your worst." She wondered why she'd said it, and was sorry. It was rare enough a man touched her, much less one who meant her no harm. As he ran his hand slowly down her spine, she thought of what he'd told her once, that the spinal cord was like a telegraph wire between the brain and the body; and wondered if he could feel what it told when he lifted a stray wisp of hair off the nape of her neck and tucked it back into her bun.
Losing the preacher had been eating him bad that night, curled up in the corner with the bottle. It weren't till she'd taken both his hands and squeezed that he'd raised his shaggy head to look in her face, and his eyes had been red in their sockets. She hadn't minded the whisky, since he'd held her all the tighter to steady himself, and he'd willingly repeated all the gallant nonsense she told him to say. He'd even kissed her curled hand before bidding her goodnight, and that had taken her by surprise. She'd lain awake with the memory of it, nights since - and thinking of it now she leaned a little harder into the table's edge, and wondered if there were any chance he'd like to examine her spine from the front side as well.
Doc in the here-and-now interrupted her thoughts.
"Do you know anything of the circumstances of your birth?"
"They said at the orphanage my Ma must've tried to smother me, and didn't finish the job." She spoke without bitterness - it was the true that they'd said it, and likely true in itself as well - but her words froze his hands on the shoulders. There was silence behind her back for what felt an age, and then he pulled her round about to face him.
"It's my belief you were deprived of oxygen for a short time at birth, probably due to a difficult labour. That the asphixia damaged the part of your brain that governs voluntary movement - but only that part---" Jewel tilted forward and kissed him. When he pulled herself away, Doc's eyes were the size of saucers.
"Voluntary movement," she said, then suddenly blinked hard. A moment later, someone kissed her eyelids, first the right one then the left. Opening them, she saw Doc looking even more astonished, this time at his own boldness.
"I think," he began, "I'll have that tea --" Jewel clutched him as tight as ever she held a tray or a broom, and stopped his chat with her lips.
