fandom_clinic | Clinic Hours - Wednesday November 30th 2005

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Clinic Hours - Wednesday November 30th 2005

Wilson was busy darting in between the exam rooms, the office and the front desk. The smell of Jamacian Blue Mountain filled the front waiting room and he had a little bell set out for people to ring in case he wasn't there.

The word for today children is Busy but the doctor ~~and more importantly his coffee~~ is in.

[ooc: On slow play today while at work.]

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Jamacian Blue Mountain Coffee is the brew for today. Have a cup, ring the bell!

Jonathan pours himself a cup of coffee and looks around. Dr. Wilson seems awfully busy.

"Morning Doctor," he says stowing his backpack under the front desk.

Caught going from too to fro, Wilson flashed Jonathan a gentle smile before looking back down at a clipboard in his hands.

"Greetings, Jonathan. How are you today?"

"I'm good," he says, "all rested up from the weekend, how about you?"

Jonathan's leaning against the front desk, watching Doctor Wilson move around.

Hunkering gracefully down on his heels, Wilson was counting something as he listened to the young man.

"Ah yes, Vegas. How was the trip?"

Surely Jonathan didn't want to hear Wilson's standard reply of how staid his weekend had been? Even if it was rather far from the truth.

Jonathan smiles at the mention of Vegas his face becoming more animated.

"I had a really great time actually," Jonathan tells him, "Although I think we confused Anakin about the point of Thanksgiving," he says with a wrinkle of his brow, "What about you? Turkey and football work out okay? When I got back I noticed the school hadn't been burnt to the ground so I'm hoping no one ruined your and Doctor House's quiet weekend by being dumb."

Chuckling softly, Wilson tried to wrap his brain around the idea of introducing a Jedi to the concept of gluttony...then decided he needed to nurture brain cells not send them screaming for the hills.

"It was quiet, yes, thank you for asking." The oncologist grinned over at Jonathan as he powered back up to his feet and walked towards the counter. Setting the clipboard down, he reached for a mug to pour himself some of his own coffee."

Jonathan sips his own coffee ~~and does not in any way bemoan Wilson's coffee turning him into an addict~~ and gets together the few things he needs for his counseling sessions.

"That's good doctor, you and Dr. House deserve some quiet down time together, everything you do for all of us I'd say you deserve it more than most."

~~Muuahhh come to the dark side...oh wait...~~

Wilson sprawled out on the chair and smiled gently at Jonathan. "We do nothing more than our jobs, Jonathan. But thank you."

[ooc: I swear, one day these two are going to have a conversation that is not the civil banalities and it's going to be a doozy.]

~~yeah, bit late for that~~

"You two do your jobs great doctor," he tells him, "And believe me, it's appreciated," he looks at the clock in the waiting room, "I should probably get my hours started Doctor. See you later," he waves and heads to the counseling room.

((for real, why are our characters so cagey with one another? Jonathan doesn't hate Wilson, I swear!

And umm, is there a counseling room? Did I just completely create a room out of no where?))

[ooc: Oh, it's not that Wilson doesn't like Jonathan, it's that he doesn't trust him. So he keeps things very superficial to keep Jonathan out of his head. Wilson doesn't like shrinks. :)]

It's been almost a week since he was *supposed* to have his first check in at the clinic since his hospital visit. His stitches itch like hell at this point, and he's pretty sure he's going to be in P.T. for the rest of his life at this rate... two weeks of not moving his hand was going have repercussions, he's sure.

*Ding-ding-ding*

Wilson surfaced from the storage room where he'd been counting something.

"Hey there, Shep. How are you today?"

I'd like to get these damn stitches out, if it's all the same. They itch like hell.

*hands over folder from the hospital with x-rays and notes and all kinds of crap Shep can't understand*

How are you?

Arching an eyebrow, Wilson waved Shep over. Grabbing a suture kit out of a cabinet, he dug out the scissors and a pair of tweezers.

"I'm surprised they didn't use...ah well, never mind. Let's get them out. How is the arm doing?"

Really, Shep was kind to ask but the answer to his question was fairly dull...promise.

It's doing okay I suppose. These pain pills knock the living crap out of me. I slept from some time Thursday to sometime Sunday last week because of them, but plain ibuprofin's not enough either - 'cause I tried that.

But mostly it's just annoying. When I sit still and don't bother it, it really doesn't bother me. But then I forget that it's still pretty loused up, all said, and go to do something with it... and get reminded the hard way that moving my fingers or banging my wrist into something *hurts* like an SOB.

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Clinic Hours - Wednesday November 30th 2005

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