"Everything but the B-12 and a licence to practice medicine." Heidi replied, gesturing with a nod for Buffy to return to the bed as she entered the room and found a flat surface to deposit the tray on. Peeling the plastic cover back from the thermometer, she handed it to Buffy. "Under the tongue, you know the drill."
It was times like this that Heidi felt at her best at the Hyperion; tackling the normal dillemmas that were wont to get swept up or pushed aside in a flurry of city-saving and superpowers until they began springing up like a field of angry, mutant daises.
Of course, wasn't particularly comforting that a field of angry mutant daises could, in reality, actually begin springing up at any time and not be considered too far outside of the norm for LA.