"Fine. Just... just make it quick."

He stepped between her spread legs with practiced ease, those scaled fingers dancing across the control interface. The readouts shifted - inflammation markers dropping, tissue repair initiating. The cold sensation at her side intensified, and she could see the medical nanites beginning their work on the display.

"Interesting," he murmured, studying the screens. "Your metabolism is quite efficient." His proximity was inexplicably overwhelming. The hormone readout spiked again, that strange marker climbing steadily.

Something warm pulsed through her from the bite wound, and she let out a slow breath. The display showed it as a standard healing response, and the pain was definitely fading. If anything, the sensation was almost... pleasant. She pushed that thought away immediately.

"Nearly finished," he said. His hand brushed her knee as he made another adjustment, and she had to fight not to flinch at the contact. "The chair will release you once it completes the calibration."

The medical arms began to retract, and the chair slowly raised her to a sitting position. Which put her face directly level with the front of his fitted shipsuit. She tried to look away, but not before registering the impressive bulge there. Her cheeks burned as she focused intently on the ceiling, pulse hammering. She could feel the heat of him against her spread thighs, still trapped in the chair's grip.

"All done." His voice was neutral, professional. "How do you feel?"