"Then you are a real gentleman." There was still a joking lilt to her tone, but she meant her words. The concept of what a gentleman was and was not had changed so much over time that Quinn truly believed that chivalry, for the most part, had died. A few still followed the old traditions, and so it was really refreshing to meet those people. She had never really been a soap box preaching feminist unless it came to someone belittling her talents because she was a woman. If a man wanted to hold a door open for her, then she would graciously accept it. If he wanted to go halfsies in paying for a meal, then she was easily as comfortable. Of course, she had not really ever been in the latter position, but that was the price she paid for being so devoted to her studies and career. In the end, if a man was willing to throw her over his shoulder to be sure that she got home safely, then he was more of a gentleman than a man who held open the door for her on her way out.
She frowned slightly when he said that his prescription could wait until the next day. That was never something that a doctor wanted to hear, and especially not Quinn. She wanted to make sure that people got better, not put off getting their medicine because they were more worried about her. It made her feel even worse. She knew all too well what could happen if someone missed their medicine, but in her current condition, she was in no state to lecture Mr. Willoughby. Who had a first name, she was sure. It started with a 'C,' but she couldn't recall it right away. "Alright, but as your doctor, I expect you to be prompt on getting that prescription tomorrow. I expect a phone call the second you leave the pharmacy saying 'Doctor Wake, prescription filled.'" She was sure that her expression would have been more stern if she had not been quite so sick.
"Ready as I'll ever be," She answered honestly. She really wished this fever would disappear; she was getting ready to sprint across a rainy parking lot with a man she barely knew and she couldn't stop thinking that she wanted to enjoy the moment as much as possible. It was so unlike her. What would one of her coworkers think? There goes Quinn Wake, the most professional surgeon at the University of Michigan hospital, running in the rain with a strange man. It was just too strange, but she was blaming it all on her sickness -- whatever it was. Before she knew it, he had yelled for them to run and she tore off through the rain, clinging desperately to the jacket over her head. Every step she took resulted in a large splash of a puddle, soaking her jeans and through her shoes. And despite the facts that were running in her mind -- how the rain was going to lower her body temperature, which would only make her illness worse -- she actually managed to let loose a laugh. Now that was even more uncharacteristic than the jokes. A genuine, uninhibited laugh. She couldn't help thinking that it needed to happen more often.
It was good that Chase had hit the 'unlock' button; in her haze, Quinn had completely forgotten where she had parked. So, the flashing lights and the beeping helped direct her through the rain. Arriving at the car, she fumbled a little with the passenger door handle before flinging it open and hopping into the seat. Pulling the door closed behind her, she brought the jacket down so that it was draped around her front; she needed to stay covered up. The rain had soaked her pants legs and her shoes, so she needed to return warmth to her body, as much as she didn't want to. Running across the parking lot had only made her hotter. She wished she had a thermometer in her car; she was certain that her fever was rising. Reaching behind her, she pulled out the bag from the clinic so she could take a dose of her medicine. If her fever was over 105, she would be in serious trouble. Something told her the temperature was not far from being too high.