milliways_bar | (no subject)

Earlier, the door opened to let in a patron, who took the relative quiet of the bar as an opportunity to slip through the main room unnoticed. After a check of the stables, which including looking in on all the stock and ordering a batch of supplies, he'd gone over some paperwork and his 'mail' at the bar (including the note from Will about the falcon residing in a quiet stall, which he probably should have bothered to check before coming across the bird on his own) and then headed upstairs.

When he comes down tonight, he's dressed warmly, and finds an open booth with a seat that will put his back to the wall and give him a relatively good vantage point of the room. The chill in the air and the few months he's spent out in the 'real world' are motivation plenty for old habits to flare back to life.

He places an order for a mexican hot chocolate and pulls a small notebook and pen from his pocket, and begins to write - though most of his focus is on the room around him, and not the words being inked onto the page.

[Open until I say otherwise, thought with being moved, I'd try to refresh a quieter voice...]

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"It's goin' well 'nough, I suppose," he replies. "I managed to walk in tonight under my own power, and I ain't even got so much as a limp t'require medical attention, so I'll daresay it's a good evening at that."

Tired or not, Kim smiles much more brightly at that.

"I'm glad to hear it. And I bet you're a lot more comfortable that way, aren't you?"

"I have noticed that I tend to be more comfortable when not mortally wounded, yes," he agrees, hint of a smirk toying at his face. "And how've you been?"

"Funny how that works," she teases, albeit gently.

"I've been doing okay. I've got my own practice in England now, did I tell you?"

He shakes his head. "No, I hadn't heard. That's great!" He offers her his congratulations. "I bet it's keepin' you pretty busy, huh?"

"It is," Kim agrees. "Enough so that I'm thinking about bringing in a partner."

A beat, and a quick smile.

"You wouldn't happen to know anyone who's looking, would you?"

"Anyone from here who's lookin'?"

He hesitates, thinking a moment on those who he knows practice medicine. (It doesn't even occur to him that she might be asking him.)

"I...I can't say that I do," he replies after the pause for thought. "But...I ain't been 'round in awhile, so I'm not sure. What sort of person are you lookin' to bring on?"

"Someone who doesn't mind long hours, little pay, and being sneezed on by an entire town's worth of children," she laughs.

"Family practice isn't exactly glamorous work."

"You don't go into medicine t'be glamorous," Doc replies with a half-shrug. "Least if you mean t'do it right. You git some of the doctors that're all fancy and whatnot, but that ain't someone who's in touch with the patients, you know?"

In his day and age, doctors still made housecalls - often on horseback. Long hours and little pay are common. You did it because you wanted to help people.

"I know all too well," Kim agrees, with feeling. "A good number of the specialists were after the glamor of surgery, or things like that."

Doc makes a hint of a face at the mention of surgery, though it passes quickly enough from his features. "I ain't so much for the internal parts of medicine," he admits quietly. "I don't mind stitchin' a person up from time to time, I'd just rather not have to rearrange all the pieces."

That's not saying that he hasn't helped, here - memories of helping Bones after Katya came in half-dead and torn to shreds are still vivid in his brain - but back home, he'd be hard pressed to make any attempts.

"I happen to agree," she murmurs. "I've seen enough of field surgery to last me a lifetime."