The Clinic, Monday Morning

[justhisblogger]

All right.

It was John's first day.

He should make a good impression with the nurses, and the rest of the staff, and check up on everything, and perhaps go through some charts. Responsible work. Good work. Important work.

Unfortunately, Sherlock had different priorities, so at this hour of the morning, John Watson was fast asleep at the desk.

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[boobs_and_bombs]

Let's see. New island, full of new people, and possibly a lot of trouble to get herself into. Yes, please! Pondering her possibilities, a rather terrible idea crossed Kūkaku's mind as she passed the clinic.

One glance to her right side, a small smirk, and then a moment to work herself into a appropriately false panic.

"My arm!" Bursting through the door, Kūkaku waved about her stump of a right arm, as well as the intact left one to add to the effect. "Oh God, my arm!"

[justhisblogger]

John, being a rather heavy sleeper - at least when he'd just spent the past night running around Baltimore which really didn't have as many convenient rooftops or alleyways as London did, and hadn't gotten home until five in the morning, because Sherlock had gotten himself interested in a quantuple murder and... anyway - did not immediately startle.

He sort of drowsed awake instead, sluggishly ambling back into consciousness. "...pardon?"

[boobs_and_bombs]

That was...not the response that Kūkaku had been expecting. She paused for a moment, blinking at the desk jockey, and barely held back a sigh as she started up again, this time just waving the stub of her right arm.

"My arm! It's not there! In case you didn't notice!"

The fact that it looked very well healed and patched and not at all bloody probably took some of the immediacy out of Kūkaku's claim to disaster. Next time, she'll remember a packet of red juice. Make it squirt a little. Probably at inappropriate times.

[justhisblogger]

All that flailing and waving about didn't do as much to add to the urgency as Kukaku was probably hoping for, either. It did, however, grant John a rather generous view of her bosom, which did make him jerk upright.

"Oh," he said, blinking. "Oh, yes. That's... very terrible. Er. What happened to it, do you know?"

...Jerk upright, not into awakeness.

[boobs_and_bombs]

To be honest, it was a very distracting bosom, to almost everyone except Kūkaku herself, who seemed completely unaware of it at all times. Which lead her to just simply believe that the desk jockey was just a complete idiot. Like most people.

So she sighed again, both arm and half-arm dropping in resignation. "Yeah, I know," she said, "and it's none of your damn business. Ain't you supposed to, I don't know, panic and start thinking you should actually do work or something?"

[justhisblogger]

"Yes, well, your wound appears to not only be scarred over, but also completely healed, which leads me to suspect it was a very clean amputation, and an old one as well." Sherlock's influence was occasionally helpful. "Still, if it seems to be giving you grief, we should take a look at it."

The arm. Not the boobs.

"If you would be so kind as to give me your name, and phone... number?"

[boobs_and_bombs]

Completely clean. Most people couldn't make that injury that clean even if they tried, and Kūkaku hadn't even done that.

The look on her face (not that he'd notice) had turned into hard glare.

"You know," she said, "on second thought, look at that, it miraculously feels a million times better."

[justhisblogger]

"That's... good. I'm glad."

John rubbed at his eye as unobtrusively as he could. Just to get himself a little more awake, so he wouldn't keep zoning out on the ample cleavage right...

Yes. No thinking about it.

"Still, if you'd like to leave your contact details. If you're ever in need of a check-up..."

[boobs_and_bombs]

"Sure," said Kūkaku. "How about you can reach me at 555-Blow It Up Your Ass? Is there a real doctor in this joint?"

[justhisblogger]

"I am a real doctor, actually," John said, feeling... a little bit insulted. "Possibly the realest doctor you can find in 'this joint'. Though I wouldn't have to be to tell that that isn't an injury that needs treatment." A beat. "No chance at getting your phone number, then?"

[boobs_and_bombs]

Persistent bastard, wasn't he? Despite herself, Kūkaku almost had to appreciate that.

"No," she said.

Not until she found away to jury-rig the phone to explode on the other end when the number was dialed.

Which shouldn't be too hard, actually. Brain starting to conceive of a method, Kūkaku actually entirely forgot for a moment about anything else.

[justhisblogger]

Ah, well.

"Your name, at least?" he attempted.

[boobs_and_bombs]

It did seem relatively probably that she could manage to blow this guy's head off via phone if she had about a week or so, so she figured it couldn't hurt. Build up another change to give him that number of explosive doom.

"Kūkaku Shiba," she said, deciding she wouldn't bother asking for him to return the favour because it made it slightly harder to blow up someone's head when you knew their name.

Slightly.

[3patchproblem]

Which would, of course, be when one Sherlock Holmes deemed the clinic worthy of his attention. A quick glance at the woman was all he granted before focusing back on John.

Who wasn't flashing anyone, thankfully.

"We're out of milk."

[justhisblogger]

"And I'm--" was as far as John got.

Then he deflated, sighed, and said, "Then go buy some. All the stores are within walking distance, Sherlock. I'm a little busy."

[boobs_and_bombs]

Kūkaku took a moment to look from the supposed doctor to the guy who just walked in and then to the supposed doctor again. And easily remembered how to smirk.

"Boyfriend?" she asked.