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Tweak says, "CEREBELLUM'D!"

Watson; Dr. John H. (i_blog) wrote in we_coexist,
@ 2011-02-09 20:32:00

Entry tags:

john watson, simon tam

The doctor is in. (Simon)
It had taken Watson a little while, but he'd finally found an opportunity to get out to the hospital. The trip was part of a day long round of errands and he'd saved it for last - mostly because Jennifer had suggested that there might be some sort of job set up for him, and if that was the case, a quick drop-in might turn into several hours of waiting about. He'd dressed for the occasion, but not dressed-up; he'd worn nicer slacks and a button-up instead of one of his pullovers. His wallet, complete with identification, was tucked into his pocket.

Once he'd reached the place, Watson went in the front doors and found his way to the desk.

"May I help you?" The woman on duty asked.

"Yes, please - I'm Dr. John Watson," John replied. "I'm new? To the City. This might sound a little mad, but it was suggested that I might have a job waiting? I thought it would be worth the time to check."

"Have a seat," the woman said. She was wearing a little plastic nametag that introduced her as 'Janice.' "I'll check with HR to see if any paperwork has come through."

"Right." John took a step backwards. "Thanks."

The indicated seats were arranged in a 'U' shape around a coffee table. They were plastic and wholly uncomfortable, as was the way of a hospital. John chose one and random and leaned forward to grab a magazine.

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i_conform
2011-02-10 04:30 am UTC (link)

Simon's hand clasped John's, and he couldn't help the small squeeze, one more of shock and maybe a little jealousy, when John mentioned Jennifer. He had met her, and Simon still hadn't seen her. The City was being more than a little difficult lately, if he really believed such things. He didn't always like to think the City he lived in was an actual living thing.

"Dr. Simon Tam. You may call me 'Simon.'" He released John's hand and stepped back, motioning for John to walk with him. "The City does like to set up jobs. It appears you and I are partners of some sort. I work mostly in the ER; the City seems to think my time as a medic for a ship's crew prepared me for that, I suppose. If not the City, then the Hospital."

His time saving people here in the City seemed to keep him busy. He started down a hallway, heading to his..their office.

"We will be sharing an office anyway. If I understand correctly, you'll be working in the Clinic. It's not a bad place to work; it stays busy. We can find out more once we get back to the office." Simon didn't sound condescending. Working in the Clinic was a good job; helping people who weren't complaining of just dying, being run over, crashing from the sky, or turning into zombies was a very good thing to do.

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i_blog
2011-02-10 04:59 am UTC (link)

"Oh no, believe me. I was a military doctor; I'm sure the battlefield experience is a help in the ER." Watson understood, or thought he did. Of course, he didn't actually realize that the 'ship' in question was a spaceship, not an ocean-going vessel.

"The clinic will be alright. I had a job at a clinic back in London." Granted, it hadn't been his first priority, but a man needed to eat. John wasn't sure if the same thing held true here, but he was going to go mad, sitting in that flat.

The newly arrived doctor followed the younger fellow down the hall.

"I've got a strange question for you. Rampaging robots, magic-based illnesses. Are those things really normal around here?"

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i_conform
2011-02-10 05:18 am UTC (link)

"London?" Simon didn't say what he thought of the name. Some people didn't take too kindly to being told that their world no longer existed, that it was something of the past, the working towards ancient past. "Battlefield. The clinic might be boring for you then, Dr. Watson...John. Though, like I said, it will keep you busy."

Simon stopped on the magic-based illnesses and gave John a look.

"What do you mean 'magic-based illnesses'?" He was rather certain what he and Hannibal had done was not at all magic based. It was scientific, and it was certainly solved by science. He was certain of it. He didn't believe in magic, even if the damn place worked in ways he did not understand. He was certain there was a scientific explanation for it. Even if he personally knew a Reaper.

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i_blog
2011-02-11 03:17 am UTC (link)

John shrugged and decided to go the 'polite but evasive' route. Simon was pleasant enough, but John wasn't given to oversharing. "Oh, no. Injuries of the more mundane sort are just fine." After all, he had his share of excitement in his private off-duty life. "Someone has to attend to the earaches and sinus infections just as well as the gun-shots."

Simon's reaction to the question about 'magic' was not wholly unexpected - and, in fact, not unwelcome. Watson interpreted the look as 'you can't be serious' and not 'could he mean the zombie plague?' If Simon thought it was an odd question, that meant the incident with the watch had been a one-off. "I've seen some strange things since I've arrived. Curses? Back home they don't exist, of course, so I'm trying to determine what other impossible things I might have the, ah, 'pleasure' of running across."

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i_conform
2011-02-11 05:08 am UTC (link)

"There are many interesting moments here in the City." Simon actually gave John a slight smile. He was glad to meet someone who wasn't so very comfortable with the insanity that surrounded them. It was disturbing ow quickly people accepted the oddities. He'd had to accept or at least act within the realm of insanity, not questioning but doing.

"Curses? Yet to come into contact with any curses. Other things, but not curses." Simon wasn't going to say anything about the zombies. Or reapers. Or talking cats. He wasn't going to mention any of it. "I was trained as a surgeon." That seemed like a safe tangent to take.

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i_blog
2011-02-13 03:46 am UTC (link)

"Well, I'm certainly not a wizard myself," John responded. And, in spite of himself? He smirked. Curses. Just because he'd accepted that they existed did not mean he found them any less mind-boggling or preposterous.

"So you were American Navy, then?" Sherlock would have not made the mistake of making assumptions based on accent, but then, John was not his flatmate. "That must have been something. I don't mind ships, but I vastly prefer dry land."

It was chit-chat. Pleasant but not-substantive talk to fill the silence as they wandered the halls of the hospital.

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i_conform
2011-02-13 04:00 am UTC (link)

Simon stopped; they had a little ways to go, but the question was a little odd. It wasn't that Simon should have thought he seemed to be a space traveler, yet he wasn't aware he sounded like someone from the United States of America. They had waves, some dating so very long back, but that didn't mean much. Things were different.

"I'm not from the United States of America. That is what you mean by 'American,' right? And, I never served in any military capacity. I served on..." Simon looked around as he tried to think of what he could call the crew of Serenity without actually calling them "smugglers." "I served on a cargo ship, Firefly class." He doubted that would be of any help, but he had to try.

"I was born...after the American Navy became a small section in the annals of history." He hoped that would help make sense.

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