John Watson does not resemble a hedgehog. (what_son) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-05-05 22:47:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, john watson, leonard mccoy |
Who: Watson and McCoy
What: Hospital Lunch
When: Sunday
Where: Hospital Cafeteria
Rating/Warnings: Limbo Low
Status: Complete
Ah, lunch. It was the best time of the day. Much like recess back in low grade school. It was a time for socializing. It was a time for escaping the halls and the clinics and the assists. It was a time for escaping the common cold, and prying objects from the orifices of idiots.
It was a time for peace.
Or was that pizza? No. It was definitely pizza.
Watson looked up from his phone and his slice of pizza, spotting McCoy who had obviously just grabbed some lunch too. “Dr. McCoy! Have a seat!”
Speaking of pizza, McCoy’s plate had a heaping serving of the cafeteria’s finest on it. That was one thing that this place did fairly well, he thought. The pasta was sketchy, the salad always good, and he would never touch the burgers. Drinks were almost always safe, too. Today he sported a cup of coffee.
“Dr. Watson!” He responded, moving over and slipping into the chair opposite John’s. (Because, hey, they should be on a first name basis by now, right?) “How’s the pizza?” Smelled great.
They were on first name basis! Except Leonard was kind of a weird name, and John felt a bit weird about it, okay? “Oh, you know,” John said, taking a bite for emphasis. “Best thing in the cafeteria, really.” They all knew the Rules of Eating in the cafeteria by now. It was survival of the fittest, after all.
Leonard was a weird name. McCoy even thought of himself as McCoy more often than Leonard. Though, when do people think of their own names? To him it was mostly ‘I’.
“I love pizza day.” McCoy said, then started in on his own. It was pretty good. Restaurant quality.
Yeah, but if Leonard was weird, Leo was even weirder. McCoy was just kind of... McCoy, as much as Watson tried for it to be otherwise. “I know,” John said, and sighed happily as he nibbled. “Every day should be pizza day.” These two, they didn’t have the deepest conversations, sometimes.
“But if every day was pizza day... would it make pizza less exciting?” McCoy took a bite and decided that... No. It wouldn’t make pizza any less exciting. He leaned back in his chair to enjoy chewing.
“No,” John said, reaching for his coffee. “It would make lunch an edible delight.” He gave a pause to take a sip. “You know, no one warned me about those burgers when I started here.”
McCoy nearly coughed. “No? They didn’t? Oh, man.” He shook his head. “I hope you didn’t end up sick. ...at least, if you did, you’d be in a good place for it.”
“No one,” Watson’s tone was solemn, as if it had been the greatest offense. And to be fair, it kinda was. It was like eating meat textured cardboard followed by paying the dearest cost. “It wasn’t so much sick as regretful of life.”
“Aw, man. If only I’d known.” McCoy said, shaking his head. “I’m not sure why they keep that slop on the menu. Just... replace it with more pizza, that’s what I say.” He said, then took a bite as if putting the period on the end of that sentence.
It was a good note to end on, and so Watson ate his pizza too. Sometimes when things were good, you didn’t need to talk. Pizza? Was good.