Harley looked up sharply from the floor, depressor still in her mouth, glove balloon in one hand.
"Hu- wehanne heh mehihahiom." She'd sort of wanted to find out more. What else the infirmary held in it. What kind of medications they had. Whether it was locked up. Where they kept the patient records. Not for any real reason exactly, just- future reference.
But Simon's case was clearly going to take precedent.
She stood up. "Puh hawa-" Harley paused, pulled the depressor out of her mouth. "Put away that." Her voice was, for the moment, crisp and authoritative, and she used the depressor to point at the paperwork he'd been fiddling with. "And get me a bucket or somethin'." Stalking back over to the drawers, Harley yanked one open, and pulled out the box of latex gloves, slapping it onto the counter with a thwack of finality. Pulling out a fresh glove, she reached to turn on the sink.