"So what if I broke my arm I’m still doing it.” michael/tilly
“Look,” Tilly said stubbornly, legs dangling over her biobed. “We planned this two full weeks ago.”
“No,” Michael said, arms crossed.
“So what that I broke my arm? I’m still doing it.”
Hugh, pretending not to eavesdrop a few meters away, coughed into his fist, and Michael shot him a glare. He was not helping.
“We can reschedule, Tilly,” Michael went on when Tilly continued to stare at her with her jaw set. “Or I can just go alone.”
Tilly leaned forward and put her one available hand on Michael’s shoulder. “This is important to you. It’s important to me. You asked me to be there, so I’m going to be there.”
Michael wilted under the fierce kindness in her eyes, sagging reflexively into the touch. “Hugh, can you get her a real cast?”
“Excuse you,” Hugh huffed, affronted. “Just because it’s not bulky and ugly doesn’t mean it’s not a—”
“It’ll make her feel better,” Tilly whispered with a little wink.
Softening, Hugh rolled his eyes and said, “Fine.”
Two hours later, Michael and Tilly stood in front of the best Vulcan restaurant in San Francisco. “You good?” Tilly asked, voice almost too quiet to be heard. She bumped their shoulders together with a reassuring smile at Michael’s blank look. “It’ll be great.”
“Amanda is excited to meet you,” Michael said distantly. “Sarek is…”
“I assume he is suitably curious regarding our situation.”
“That is certainly one way of putting it.”
Tilly grinned. “Come on. I’ve always wanted to meet the parents with a badass injury—it’s great conversation fodder!”
“For Surak’s sake, you fell two stories on the engineering deck.”
“Trust me. Badass.”
Michael shook her head fondly and allowed herself to be dragged inside.