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Temperance Brennan (tempemenot) wrote in wariscoming,
@ 2011-01-09 17:43:00

Entry tags:

simon tam

Who: Brennan and Simon Tam
What: Brennan needs to be checked out
When: January 9th, Early Evening
Where: Infirmary
Warnings: Should be none
Status: In Progress

Upon entering the complex, Brennan looked around the lobby at the people who were milling about. Most seemed to be on edge, scared. Something had happened, but for the life of her, the doctor had no idea what. Of course, she had missed the drama of the dead body showing up on the front step. Which was probably good, though she was bound to find out about it eventually. News travelled fast in small community settings and so as she searched the complex for the medical bay, Brennan began to hear whispers about the body, as well as receiving some curious looks. But she paid it no mind, Brennan was used to it.

Opening random doors, Brennan eventually came across the medical bay and thankfully there was someone there. Male, which meant it was probably the Simon Tam that Booth had mentioned to her.

"Dr.Tam?" Getting his attention, Brennan moved to the center of the room and nodded in greeting, only to hold her head and wince in pain. Right. Bad idea, "I'm Dr.Temperance Brennan. Agent Booth recommended you to me as I was just in a plane crash."

For her ordeal, Brennan was rather composed, but it was all she knew how to be. Especially as of late. But she was obviously banged up. Her face had contusions and bruises, not to mention the bruises and contusions under her clothing, cracked ribs and the like, hair in disarray. She then noticed the body of the deceased.

"I'm sorry, you're busy..." Because it was a fleshy body, Brennan had no real interest in the remains, though it made sense of the whispers she'd been hearing.

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mysisterisaship
2011-01-14 04:35 pm UTC (link)

Simon turned away from the body (or what was left of it) that he’d been examining, glad of the interruption. He was a passable coroner when the situation called for it, he’d gone through the requisite cadaver-carving at the medicad and he wouldn’t damage evidence for an investigation. Of course, there wouldn’t be any investigation. Much as they played at installing security systems and providing escorts everyone knew what, who, had really done this. The autopsy was a sham, a sort of scientific placebo pill to make Simon feel better because this was a marker, this was what a civilized society did with their dead, they determined the cause, they closed their affairs honorably, and they buried them with dignity. Still, he hadn’t gone to medicad to be a coroner or an undertaker and he waved a hand at the woman, no one he recognized but faces didn’t often stick with him for very long, to dismiss her apology as he crossed to the sink and stripped off his gloves,

“Take a seat, it isn’t as if this can’t wait,” he said, indicating an examination table across the room from the body as he washed his hands and replaced the discarded gloves with a new set as he transitioned mentally to thinking about a new patient. Plane crash? Then the usual, broken bones, contusions… He realized suddenly that from what she’d just said (Booth had to recommend her, she didn’t know to come) that this must be a new arrival, and here he’d sat her in the same room as a corpse without so much as a hello. He turned back quickly, mouth open to apologize, then shut it again and raised his eyebrows as he realized she was, even to his unreliable eye where other people’s moods were concerned, relatively calm.

“Did you receive any medical attention at the scene?” he asked, stepping forward after the initial hesitation and picking up a pen light, “Look straight ahead please,” he requested, the minutiae of a trauma exam old habit, the punctuation to a sentence, after so long. “Do you mind if I ask what you’re a doctor of?” that next question less medical necessity and more curiosity as he catalogued her pupil reactions.

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tempemenot
2011-01-15 12:33 am UTC (link)

Seeing that Simon didn't seem to mind the interruption, Brennan moved to a free bed and sat down. She didn't seem to mind the lack of manners, she wasn't one to greet people all that often as it were. Besides, he was busy even if he said that the corpse could wait. Which was true, corpses didn't go anywhere and as it was an autopsy that could wait, it was probably more formality than necessity. Which was... interesting. The way people were talking, it was as if it were a big mystery, and yet the autopsy was just formality? Peculiar.

Hearing the question, Brennan was about to shake her head before remembering that her head was throbbing and so she instead just answered.

"No, Booth got me out of there pretty quickly...." As she was told what to do, Brennan looked straight ahead, not minding the light in the eye. Though she was slightly shocked by his question on her profession as he at first had seemed the type to do the job and not talk. But no matter. Mutual interest. "I'm a forensic anthropologist. I have three doctorates. I'm the best in my field." Well, it was Brennan. She was very blunt about her accomplishments. It was foolish to deny it.

"Booth says you could possibly give me a run for my money, I assume that means you're the best in your field as well."

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mysisterisaship
2011-01-16 11:01 pm UTC (link)

“Booth let you walk away from a plane crash?” Simon asked, not bothering to contain the exasperation in his tone. “I suppose we’d know by now if you had any spinal injuries then, but even so…” he trailed off as he lowered the pen-light and put it down the table, moving to check her for the aforementioned injuries. Despite the fact that he was clearly annoyed and that his tone seemed distracted, as if the world around him was some kind of rude interruption of whatever was going on in his mind, each of his movements was almost eerily precise, as careful as if he’d been rehearsing them painstakingly instead of making them offhand.

“No noticeable problems with the spine,” he admitted after a few moments, “but from the way your pupils are responding and how you’re holding yourself I’m guessing some cracked ribs and a concussion.” He moved away again, back to the counter, and gathered some gauze pads and sterilizing materials. “I’ll get your contusions cleaned up and disinfected and then take care of those ribs. In the meantime, pain medication,” he said, handing her a paper cup of water and two pills.

Her assertion of superiority and Booth’s comments earned her raised eyebrows and a slight smile. She didn’t seem arrogant, at least not the way most people meant it, with ill intent and the need to demean others. She just seemed certain, precise. It was enviable and, to Simon at least, appealing. “I see. Impressive.” It wasn’t condescending or particularly admiring, merely a stating of facts that came out in much same tone Brennan herself had used. “I’ve only the one doctorate but I suppose I could have been called the best in my field, back home. Here I might be as well but how much of that is the fact that I’m from a time when medical technology and science have advanced well past what they have now and how much of it is my own aptitude I couldn’t be sure. Then again,” he kept talking as he worked, swabbing and bandaging the contusions on her face carefully, “Is the better doctor the one who has the most knowledge of treatments or the cleverest mind?”

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tempemenot
2011-01-17 03:11 am UTC (link)

"Booth is not the smartest of people. But he makes up for it in his ability to use the knowledge he is given." After all, it was what she had told Booth himself. There were people like her, gifted with knowledge and intelligence, and there were people like Booth, who knew how to use it. Brennan knew how to use her intelligence, of course. But he could apply it to other people, something Brennan herself was not good at. She didn't know how to read people, it just wasn't in her bag of tricks.

Hearing Simon's diagnosis, the brunette gave a slight nod. It was what she herself had diagnosed but she needed a second opinion and Simon seemed to be very good at what he did. And then she was given pain pills and so she took them. She knew what the consequences were. The feeling of being of average intelligence. It wasn't appealing but neither was the pain.

And for once, someone who didn't jump to conclusions about her just because she was forthright with her abilities. That was impressive. No wonder Booth had recommended Simon to her. He was her kind of person. His question impressed her, though.

"That's a very good question. After all, you need to be able to apply the information at hand. To have it and do nothing with it might as well make you useless."

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