The door opened and Seven stepped inside, blue-eyed gaze sweeping across the office to take brief stock of her surroundings before finally settling on the man seated behind the desk. Her first thought was that he looked tired. Not necessarily run-down as she'd seen others look before when they'd pushed themselves to far but more... weary. She felt a small spike of concern for him but didn't question him. It wasn't her place.
Instead she simple tipped her head in greeting. "Doctor McCoy," she stated in her typical, perfunctory, matter-of-fact tone, "I am here to perform routine maintenance upon the Doctor's programing. He will be unable to function for approximately 72 minutes."
Small talk, clearly, wasn't one of her strong suits.