It pays, it really does pay, to get to the hospital a few hours before rounds and go through the cases. Not only does that give you time to look up details that have become fuzzy, but you know which patients are getting the cool surgeries, and it is so much easier to gun for those
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She's got a bundle of papers. He's tossing a ball between his hands and not looking where he's going.
There's only one way this can end, really.
With a crash. And profuse apologies. And -- "Hey, where'd my ball go?"
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"Hey, if you don't know where it is, how the hell am I supposed to know?" She snaps back, fetching her file back from where it fell. "Dirty-minded idiot."
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Still, he'd rather not consider the obvious answer to his situation, and doesn't look around quite yet. "You're not an actor hurrying to make it in time for a sketch, are you?"
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"Do I look like an actor? Huh?" Actor. Please. Dense as well as posessing a complete inability to hide his filthy mind.
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He's getting the distinct impression that there's no such unspoken code among medical professionals, which this woman seems certainly well-outfitted enough to be.
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...
Well, no. Just with superiors.
"Gee, people must love you." She observes drily, struggling back to her feet. "Don't be surprised when the burning in effigy starts."
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He straightens, eyeing her. "You're a little behind the times. That party started up five years ago, but I try to encourage reunion bonfires once a week to keep the old crew together."
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"I need more coffee." She mutters under her breath, and heads off towards the bar.
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He watches her go, still annoyed that his ball is definitely missing.
Matt has a feeling that this isn't over yet.
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