milliways_bar | (no subject)

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The front door opens, and a highly distracted Doctor McCoy wanders through. Someday he's going to realize it is highly hazardous for him to wander through doors while distracted, since that always seems to land him in Milliways. He's dressed in his usual starfleet blues, with his favorite blue scrub top, munching on an apple and going over lab results from the last round of routine physicals.

...

Someone please stop him before he runs smack into the bar.

(ooc: ~~Must disappear for 15-20 min. Sorry! Will be~~ back!)

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"Two days... I hope his doctor set him straight." He feels a strong sense of sympathy for the other man's doctor. Some days he wishes he could just sedate his patients until he deemed them well enough to leave.

Some days, he doesn't just wish it.

"Of course. So did our supervisor. If anyone could make Greg stay put, it would be Grissom."

She raises an amused eyebrow at the expression on his face. "You sedate your patients, don't you?" He's the kind of doctor her father always threatened to take her to. Skilled at his trade, but willing to do anything necessary to assist in healing.

He has grace enough to give her a rueful smile.
"Only if they deserve it. But yes, I have been known to knock my patients flat on their obstinant behinds."

She laughs heartily. "That's what they all say! But seriously, I'm sure it was warranted, and they probably owe their lives to such techniques."

"You better believe they do. They think they're gods, until they collapse face-first on the bridge." He snorts.

"You mean collapsing isn't a super-human thing to do?" She grins cheekily, not expecting him to dignify that with an answer.

"Well, my metaphorical hat is off to you, Doctor McCoy. I doubt I would be even half as patient as you had I gone into medicine." Determining a cause of death and motive for murder seems to suit her better.

McCoy laughs, amused. He also most definitely doesn't dignify Sara's first comment with a reply. She had better hope she doesn't get hurt in the battle, or he'll be after her with a hypospray of some sedative.
"Patient is hardly a term anyone uses to describe me, I'm afraid. You give me too much credit."

Sara probably will be hurt, but is stubborn enough to hide it. McCoy will have plenty of ~~victims~~ patients elsewhere.

"In the sense that you keep doing what you do, because it is what you love? I don't think I'm mistaken there. You seem to do the art of healing, for the art itself, and not for any sort of reward. That is what I find commendable, Doctor." Her tone is serious, though she is still smiling.

Oh, but he always has time for Sara.

McCoy blushes faintly under the weight of her praise. On board ship, what he does is a given - they're all out there because they love what they do, and are the best people to do it. Still... it's nice.
"Now now, that's enough. I'm just an old country doctor."

She's reserving the right to raise holy hell about that when it happens. At least when the sedative wears off.

"Of course you are." He can probably infer disbelief in her tone.

Why not? A good number of his other patients do.

"Almost precisely so. I have a small number of clients, if you will, whom I see and talk with most every day. Very much like your basic backwoods town, if you think about it." Something he likes pointing out to Kirk every once in a while.

Then he should feel right at home. Hell hath no fury like a Sidle extremely pissed off.

"I understand what you mean, Doctor. My shift at the lab grew to be like that, in many ways. I miss it sometimes."

Does it match an extremely pissed off Captain? He's matched that plenty of times. Ask the medical staff about the Kirk-McCoy shoutoffs.

He cocks his head, concerned.
"You left your lab?"

They would probably be about even. But Sara is a master of the vicious low blow, and can make drug dealers and pimps feel guilty.

"I was fired." It gets easier to say, as time goes by. "The assistant director is a political asshole who wanted me gone. And..well, I was also close to burn out."

McCoy doesn't feel guilt. He feels righteous anger.

"Good Lord. Isn't there anywhere self-righteous politicians mind their own buisness, for a change?" The good doctor asks, disgusted.

"Apparently not. He's already asked me to return--my solve rate for cases was 97% and the lab apparently is in danger of losing its national standing. I told him to kiss my ass, pardon my language." She's through jumping through political hoops.

"I do miss my colleagues. And I miss the actual science itself, and the satisfaction of putting dangerous people into prison."

McCoy offers her a wry smile.
"I'd offer you a civilian's post on board the Enterprise, if I didn't think it'd just attract the attention of more political idiots. A 97% solve rate would even pass that green-blooded elf's standards."

"Green-blooded elf?" Color Sara confused.

She grins wryly in return. "I appreciate the offer, Doctor, but I don't think we're from the same time period. Lady Death hates it when paradoxes are created, so I'll have to decline."

"Besides, I've spoken with some people here, and there is interest in creating a lab here. So I don't think I'll be out of work for long."

"Spock. He's a vulcan - humanoid, pointy ears, the visable emotional range of a rock, and green." McCoy explains, with a fond grin. As much as he needles his first officer, he has a real respect for the vulcan.
"Really? A lab here... heavens knows they could probably use it."

She grins. "Man, now I wish I could accept your offer. I'd love to meet some extraterrestrials. I have met some non-humans here, of course, but not ones from different planets other than different versions of Earth."

Despite his complaints, Sara can see that he cares for the Vulcan greatly.

She nods. "They don't often have crimes here, but when they occur..." she shrugs. "It's best to know how it happened and who did it."

"In an enclosed community like this? Definitely. The rumor mill can run faster than the speed of light in situations like this." Or on certain starships. One only needs to whisper something in the aft cargo bays for it to be discussed in the forward observation lounge not five minutes later.

She nods. "Again, it was very much like that in the lab. Got to be a real pain at some points." Hank Peddigrew briefly comes to mind.

"I bet it did. At least I have the benefit of not having to deal with each department on a daily basis." There's a reason he never went into command. Well, besides the abiding love for medicine.

"They apparently knew about certain things before I did, and I was the one involved." She sounds wryly amused.

"Very true. Dealing with each department would probably be a hassle unto itself."

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