Owls, and a brief monologue
Mei mei:
We haven't had dinner in ages. Come to my office for a meal? You can explain to me how I've been an idiot -- I think I've put my foot in it twice.
Simon.
Kaylee:
You're likely busy with studies, but I'd like to see you sometime soon. I miss you, you know, And I hope you're not avoiding me for some reason. Let me know if I've done something wrong.
Yours,
Simon.
Chance:
I saw you last week walking on the grounds but didn't want to disturb you -- you looked quite engrossed in your conversation and the person you were having it with. I haven't had a philosophical conversation in nearly a week -- and I do have some medication suggestions if you're willing to listen. Owl or stop by, you know my door is open...
Simon
Stephen:
I should like to consult with you as a colleague again, if you have the time. Two most interesting cases and the potential for unusual treatment have come up.
Case one involves an individual with an autonomic process that can be harmful to others in the vicinity. We're looking to manage that process and potentially make it voluntary rather than autonomic. Second-best would be to suppress it with medication or treatment.
Case two involves an individual who is in an altered state of living -- specifically ambulatory and sentient though her actual flesh is dead. She has a number of wounds that will, as a result, not heal, and I'm wondering if I can at the very least transfigure the skin very delicately so they're closed, if not find a way to repair the damage.
I know my initial intention with the office away from that woman the infirmary was to treat River, but I sincerely doubt anyone in the infirmary would care to manage this sort of treatment when there are more life-threatening cases at large, and both individuals deserve some treatment option.
Sincerely,
Dr. Simon Tam
PS - recieved some pictures from our duel. Next time, we use swords. Somehow, I expect it'll turn out less phaellic. Burned the pictures -- did you recieve any?
There. All sent, all done.
He sat back, and he waited.
And waited.
Responses from Stephen and even River, while nice, were expected.
Responses from Kaylee and Chance...
God, Kaylee, he hadn't heard from her in ages. He found himself unable to focus, puttering around his office, staring at the fire or out the window. He missed her, he genuinely did, and it seemed like it had been so very long... he scowled at his reflection in the glass of the window and pulled away. He'd owled her before to no avail... and now this. Silence. He sighed -- he'd tried! And River'd yell at him...
Better to think of other things. Like Chance. Like it or not, patient or not, she was a friend. First one he'd really made here. Sure, Mal was a good guy, and his various colleagues were, well, collegial. He'd even mentally come to a sort of a head with Stephen -- mostly when he burned the pictures he'd recieved.
But Chance, she was the one he missed. The way she could turn an off-hand comment into a whole conversation, her expression when she'd really driven something home, the way she was always thinking, always pushing, always questioning. It was admirable.
No, more than admirable. Impressive. Welcome. Familiar. He smiled as he sank down into the chair she had taken over, running his hands along the arms of it. Truth be told, he missed her more than Kaylee. Hell, he dreamed of her more than Kaylee, and...
... wait. What?
He sat bolt upright and puzzled through that. He missed her more than Kaylee. And it was Chance he'd been dreaming about so inappropriately, Chance who'd taken to the uniform and blown him away, and...
... oh. Oh.