Hannibal was doing his clinic rotation, which was not his favorite part of the job at all. But as he was head of diagnostics, it was part of his duty. He did it without external complaint, but he did it grudgingly. Very rarely did he see anything of interest, and even more rare did he see anybody but the City natives.
The nurse handed him a chart and directed him to the room holding the patient. He took a few seconds to glance over the very little they had, frowning. Not even her vitals had been taken yet. That was the most basic of tasks, and he was annoyed that no nurse had stepped up to take care of it. There was a note there that the woman wished to speak to a doctor before anybody touched her, which was strange. He wondered if she was gong to turn out to need a psychiatric workup.
"Ms Garcia." Hannibal said, entering the room. One glance at her and he knew that she wasn't one of the City's people. That made it more interesting immediately. "I am told that you have disallowed any of my nurses to even take your temperature?"
His eyes danced over the way that she was dressed. It was far too warm outside for gloves and a scarf, and even though the interior of the building was cooled, it was not to the point that anybody would complain of it. Which left only one explanation.
"Are you ill, Ms Garcia? Something that you believe you could spread easily? Not merely the flu, you wouldn't have worn gloves for influenza."