Who: Victor Frankenstein and Leonard McCoy. When: First week in September. Where: McCoy’s office. What: Meeting of minds. Rating/Warning: Low/Mention of NPC death. Status: Complete.
McCoy was sitting behind his desk going through some paperwork. The patient that he’d discussed with Dr. Frankenstein had died, and he had the case file open for one last look. He’d asked Dr. Frankenstein to come in and take one last look with him, just in case they missed something. McCoy wanted to be able to put the file away without any guilt on his conscience. Sometimes things just plain don’t work out.
If he was honest, and Victor usually was, he wasn’t surprised that the patient ended up passing on. His body had undergone a lot of stress with the various transplants, and given the number of rejections, it was clear that the problem wasn’t going to resolve itself for long. He hoped that McCoy would allow him to take some of the notes for his personal research.
But there were other things on his mind, too, and Victor knocked a few times on McCoy’s door before peering inside. “I hope I’m not interrupting?”
McCoy looked up from his paperwork. His door had been open, as he was expecting the other doctor to come inside. He shook his head a little and stood from his desk, reaching a hand out for Frankenstein to shake. “Not at all. Thanks for coming in. Have a seat. Can I get you a coffee?” He asked, lifting his cup to refresh it with the tiny coffee maker he had in his own office.
“My pleasure,” replied Victor. “Coffee sounds great, actually.” He took a seat after shaking McCoy’s hand, then pulled the file over to himself while he waited. “How long did this last transplant last before his body finally gave up?”
Once Frankenstein was sitting, McCoy poured them each a cup of coffee, and offered it over. He didn’t have cream or sugar in his office. “Ten days,” he said, giving a gentle sigh. He slipped into the chair once more. “Those last days weren’t pretty.”
“Ten days. That’s actually not so bad,” Victor mused. He took a drink of his coffee and continued to read over the paper. “Trust me when I say that you literally did everything you could.”
“I believe you. It’s never happy, though, when we lose a patient under these circumstances.” He sighed, then sipped from the coffee mug. “Anyway, I’m hoping you can take another look at these notes, and just see if I may have skipped over something. Here’s my briefing for the board.” He had to give the board a briefing whenever a patient in his department died.
Victor took the briefing and tucked in to read it as he sipped at his coffee. It looked fairly thorough, and he could tell that McCoy had covered all his bases.
"It looks good. I don't think you'll have any problems with the board. I could write up a second opinion, if you'd like."
“Would you? I’d appreciate it.” McCoy was in very good standing with the board. He was a damn good surgeon, and a fine head of his department. There weren’t going to be problems with this, he knew, he just wanted to make sure that they’d crossed all the t’s and dotted all the i’s. Not just for the hospital’s sake, but for the grieving family, too.
“Of course. I can have it done by tonight and drop it off tomorrow.” Victor gave him a smile and handed the portfolio back, then looked at McCoy thoughtfully. “You know, I had vaguely ulterior motives for coming here today.”
“That sounds wonderful. Thank you.” McCoy accepted the folder. “I’ll make you a copy before you leave.” And he turned to his copy machine to set it to work on the pages. “Oh?” He glanced at the other over his shoulder, looking interested.
Victor leaned back in his chair. “You see, I’m currently undertaking a study of people who are experiencing implausible and miraculous changes in tandem with their dreams. I can’t simply accept that there’s no scientific reason behind it. It would be good to have a doctor as credited as you, and one I trust, to aid me at times. If you were interested. I promise you that it won’t affect your current work, I’ll only seek your opinion when I think it’s perfectly necessary.”
McCoy raised both eyebrows. “The peculiar phenomenon that’s affecting Orange County? The Dreams that so many of its residents are experiencing, and the physical changes in this world because of them? I accept your offer to aid in your studies into this matter. I find it to be fascinating.”
Victor couldn’t help but look pleased. He was worried that McCoy might say no, and rejection had never sat well with Victor, but this was good. “Wonderful. Then tomorrow when I bring my second opinion for you, I’ll bring you my own findings, and we can pour over it together.”
“That sounds like a good way to kill two birds with one stone,” McCoy said with a nod. A good idea. He was looking forward to talking with someone about the strange things that were coming from the dreams. And he made a mental note to talk to Spock--he was fairly sure that the goblin’s half-Vulcan side had made an appearance.
“I do like efficiency.” Victor stood up and took the photocopied pages, then gave McCoy a nod. “Same time tomorrow?”
McCoy nodded, stood, and reached out a hand to shake Dr. Frankenstein’s. “Same time tomorrow. And thanks again.”
“Anytime,” Victor said, returning the handshake. He quickly drank the rest of his coffee and left, deciding that had been a successful visit.