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"I adore your perceptiveness."

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Linya kisses his forehead. "Are they keeping you reasonably comfortable?"

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"As comfortable as it gets, which isn't very. Ugh. Have I mentioned I hate surgery? I hate surgery, Linya."

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She pets him. "Well, hopefully I can distract you. Preferences?"

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"The hair-petting is very nice," he admits. "And you managed to bring your keyboard... it'd be a bit much to ask you to do both at the same time, I suppose."

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"A bit. I could pet you and sing at the same time."

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"Ooh."

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She kisses his forehead again and starts singing.

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It is definitely an improvement on being bored and flat all by himself.

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Linya sings to him until she needs to nip out for lunch, and then she comes back and goes on petting him with one hand while she programs with the other. She behaves roughly the same on the remaining three days, and then Miles is discharged; she brings an Armsman with her to the hospital to haul her keyboard so she can carry her husband out herself. (There is also a car involved, but both Miles and the keyboard need to be brought to the car.)

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Miles is, under the circumstances, completely willing to let his wife carry him in semi-public. It sure beats walking out by himself.

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And then they are home! In she conveys him.

"Where to, my portable little Barrayaran?"
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Miles giggles.

"I love you. Upstairs? Our rooms? I want my comfortable bed with its comfortable blankets. Even though my fond memories are probably yielding erroneous predictions of how comfortable they're actually going to be."
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She kisses his head. "Our rooms it is." And she ports her portable little Barrayaran there.

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"You are definitely my favourite porter. Ooh, bed." He snuggles into the blankets. "Disappointingly unmagical, but still better than what I just left."

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"You'd think for all the little reminder sheets about turning patients to avoid bedsores that I saw posted around the place, they'd save themselves a little work with nicer sheets."

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"Eh. The bedsheets and the reminder sheets are probably procured by different departments. Bureaucracy, you know."

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"Oh? No single 'sheet department'? How inefficient."

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He giggles. "Department of Sheets. Amazing."

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"For all your reminder notice, bedclothes, and printed musical notation needs."

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"And, and... what else comes in sheets? Loose flimsies... metal..."

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"Complex planes. Financial summaries."

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"Parchment!" giggles Miles. "To-be-assembled plastic models!"

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Linya giggles and gives him a careful hug that does not interfere with his recuperating legs.

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He hugs back. "I love you. This is much better than grouching around the house by myself."

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