Dr. Sylvia Wilde (wlkthewildeside) wrote in btvsal, @ 2011-01-09 01:13:00 |
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Current mood: | amused |
Who: Sylvia Wilde & Ronan
Where: Los Angeles General ER
When: Saturday, January 8th, late evening
Status: Completed
Rating: PG
For a Saturday night it was fairly quiet. Quiet enough that Sylvia, or Dr. Tepes as she was known in the ER, made her rounds of the less serious cases currently in the rooms.
Stepping out of a curtained room with a nurse, she signed off on the patients chart and said, "Let's keep Mr. Nichols on the saline drip and see how he fairs in a few hours." Pushing up the sleeves of her lab coat, she stopped at the main desk to pick up another chart. Opening it she quirked a brow and looked at the attending nurse, "Really? How is this guy not six feet under already?" Both vampire and nurse shrugged as Sylvia closed the file and started heading toward the next patient's room.
A parametic insisted on taking him to the hospital after he broke up the fight in front of the bar. He had told the man that he'd be fine, but they wouldn't hear of it with him still bleeding. The gash on his ribs was still bleeding as was the one that went over his arm, finishing the arch of the knife that he'd taken away from and imbeded in the leg of the man that had cut him. He looked rather annoyed sitting in the room where the paramedics had put him, his arms crossed as much as he could cross them over his chest.
Pushing aside the curtain, she discovered a rather annoyed looking, yet attractive blond man sitting on a gurney. Opening the chart, she put on her best professional smile, "Mr....Ronan." She glanced up at him, her nose flaring just slightly at the scent of blood and she set his file aside to put gloves on, "Paramedics said you didn't want to come here." Blue-green eyes bore into his as she gently took the arm with the cut on it and then dropped her gaze to examine the cut, "Any reason why you wouldn't want to be treated?"
He looked at her and shrugged. "I'm not hurt that badly." he said simply, his tricolored eyes were not glamoured because he was in enough pain that he was too distracted to glamour them properly so why bother. He was a warrior though. Admitting pain and injury to him was like admitting defeat. Plus the fact that his power was over healing and he couldn't heal himself, that really bothered him as much as the cold steel of the blade that had harmed him.
Sylvia didn't comment on the man's eyes; Beneath the blood she could smell that he was "other" and since he was in the ER, that meant she was oath-bound to treat him. Not that she wouldn't treat him, even if it wasn't the hospital. Setting aside his arm, the vampire then grabbed the stool in the room and rolled it over to take a seat, plucking a few packets of gauze and ripping them open to clean up the gash on Ronan's ribs, "That remains to be seen, doesn't it?" She glanced up to those extraordinary eyes before her gaze dropped back to the wound.
He watched her. He could tell that she was a vampire. He wondered how many at the hosptial knew what she was. He sat on the gurney and let her clean up his wounds. "I have had worse in my life." he said simply. "Do they know what you are?"
The doctor's lips curved into an amused smile, "No, but the smarter ones will get the joke, eventually," She indicated to the embroidered name on her lab coat which read; Dr. V Tepes. Straightening, she rolled away from the faerie, pulling off her gloves and standing, "I'll be right back, Mr. Ronan. The gash on your ribs needs to be stitched up."
He nodded his head as he looked at her smock. He got the joke, and it spread a slight smile across his lips. "Eventually they will." he said with a nod. He watched as she got up. "That is not surprising. Hopefully you are a better seamstress than the men at home would have been if I'd have gotten home."
A smirk spread across her lips as she stepped to the curtain, "I don't have to be with what I'm going to use on you, Mr. Ronan." With a chuckle, she grabbed his chart and pulled aside the curtain and pulled it closed behind her as Sylvia went to get the supplies she needed.
Returning after a moment, she had a small tray in hand with an assortment of medical parapharnalia that included a curved needled, disolveable thread, and a small clear tube of something. Setting the tray aside, she resumed her place on the stool after pulling on another pair of gloves. Rolling over to Ronan, she brought the tray with her, threaded the needle and warned, "This is gonna hurt." Sylvia didn't want to give him anything in case he reacted to it, not knowing what he was.
He shook his head. "I can take a little pain." he said as he looked at her. "Pain isn't a problem for me." he said as he crossed his arms over his head so that she could get at the area easier. He'd been stitched up so many times in his life that he knew that it wouldn't bother him.
Sylvia couldn't help it, she teased back with just the barest of grins on her mouth, "Kinky." The gash wasn't ginormous, a couple of inches at best, but it was deep enough to require about...four neat sitches as she applied the needle. To distract him, the doctor asked, "So, what extactly at you? Or is that against the rules?" Her gaze flicked up just briefly before dropping back to her work.
He looked down at her and couldn't help a soft chuckle. "A little." he said with a smirk. "I don't see why me telling you what I am would be against the rules." He said as he kept his mind off of the pull of the needle. "I'm fae."
Finishing off the stitches, Opehlia picked up the scissors on the tray and cut and tied off the last bit of thread. Next the doctor picked up the clear vial, which surprisingly enough was simple glue and sealed up the entire wound with it now that it was properly stitched.
"Really? Interesting. Most would say that your kind is just a myth." Sylvia replied absently as she attended to the cut on his arm, using the last of the glue on it after cleaning it up. With everything finished, she tugged off the gloves and threw them into the proper waste bin and pulled out a 'script pad and a pan, "Should I even bother writing a script for you?"
He shook his head. "And many would say that your kind was a myth. We just tend to stick to the sithens and our own kind." he said shrugging. He sat up, putting his feet over the edge of the table. "No, probably not. I wouldn't take it even if it would work." he said looking at her. "I cannot afford to lose my edge. "
Amused, she wrote something out on the script pad anyway and ripped it off to hand it to him. She scrawled her personal number and a date next week for him to come back and see her. Strictly in a medical sense, of course, as it wouldn't be ethical of her to ask a patient out. Even if it was to cure her scientific curiosity.
She smirked, "Come back after sunset on the 12th. I want to know how that gash is healing."
He nodded his head as he accepted the piece of paper. "I'll come so long as Roz does not have need of me that evening." he said as he adjusted his shirt back over the affected areas. It would go into the trash whenever he got home, no repairing the cuts without it looking stupid.
"That's what the phone number is for," the doctor teased, standing. "Call me if you can't make it. I can do a consultation over the phone." She paused to study him a moment as he got his clothing situated, "Would it do me any good to tell you to take it easy for a couple of days?"
He snickered softly as he looked at her. "I will call you if I cannot make it." he said with a smile as he stood up. "And telling me to take it easy isn't really going to happen. Though if you'd told Roz... she'd demand it." he said with a chuckle.
She was scribbling down a few notes and then looked up from his chart, "Really? Hm, perhaps I should meet this Roz so I can tell her what the doctor's orders are." She pulled a piece of paper from his chart, signed it and handed it over to him, "Take this to the front desk and they can discharge you. And," She said, quickly snapping the paper briefly, "Don't get into anymore bar fights." Sylvia said firmly, despite the smirk on her lips before handing the paper back over.
He chuckled and looked at her. "Perhaps. She may enjoy meeting you." he said shrugging. "I will tell her that you have ordered I take it easy." he said as he took the piece of paper and looked at her. "I was stopping the bar fight. Two bikers were picking on a small boy."
"I hope the bikers are worse off than you," Sylvia heatedly replied with a scowl. She hated seeing the weak abused, unlike the majority of her kind which took full advantage of those weaker than themselves. At that point, the doctor couldn't linger much longer, even though she wanted to. Sylvia, after all, had other patients to check up on.
He nodded his head. "The other two were in the other two ambulances." he said as he looked at her. He smirked softly. "They were much worse off," he said as he watched her. He smiled. "I'll give you a call if I can't be here." he said as he headed to the front desk where she'd told him to go.