Night 52: East Wing, Hall A (1st Floor)
[from here]
"Yup," he confirmed, and suddenly veered off into the hallway containing the doctor's offices. Uhura was following close behind anyway, as he could see from the beam of light traversing the walls ahead of him. Kirk had been here twice before, once during the day for his own therapy session, and once during the night with Chekov. The corridor they entered now existed in an eerie world in between those two trips: claustrophobically half the width of the main hall and shadowed at the dead end, but the single flickering, functional light overhead at least told him that they weren't walking into a frog-shark-man-monster ambush. Small favours.
Second door on the left was Dr. Kisugi's office, but Kirk didn't need a flashlight to see the absence of a name plate. He frowned slightly as he touched the empty slot on the door. "Her name was Kisugi. Scary woman. No sense of humour. You would've liked her." Kirk shot Uhura a smirk at that, but there was no real amusement in it. Had something happened to her? True, he hadn't exactly liked Kisugi, but he also hadn't forgotten the possibility that the doctors were as much victims as they were.
Still, on the hierarchy of people he needed to worry about, hospital staff ranked several levels below crew. He knew his goal for tonight. Information. "And I have no idea how they schedule appointments," he added, dropping his hand and continuing down the rows of doors. "I didn't sign up for anything before a nurse directed me here. Same with Bones, I think. And Spock didn't have a session either, so it's not that everyone gets therapy- well, assuming they didn't just take one look at his ears and decide it was a lost cause."
"Yup," he confirmed, and suddenly veered off into the hallway containing the doctor's offices. Uhura was following close behind anyway, as he could see from the beam of light traversing the walls ahead of him. Kirk had been here twice before, once during the day for his own therapy session, and once during the night with Chekov. The corridor they entered now existed in an eerie world in between those two trips: claustrophobically half the width of the main hall and shadowed at the dead end, but the single flickering, functional light overhead at least told him that they weren't walking into a frog-shark-man-monster ambush. Small favours.
Second door on the left was Dr. Kisugi's office, but Kirk didn't need a flashlight to see the absence of a name plate. He frowned slightly as he touched the empty slot on the door. "Her name was Kisugi. Scary woman. No sense of humour. You would've liked her." Kirk shot Uhura a smirk at that, but there was no real amusement in it. Had something happened to her? True, he hadn't exactly liked Kisugi, but he also hadn't forgotten the possibility that the doctors were as much victims as they were.
Still, on the hierarchy of people he needed to worry about, hospital staff ranked several levels below crew. He knew his goal for tonight. Information. "And I have no idea how they schedule appointments," he added, dropping his hand and continuing down the rows of doors. "I didn't sign up for anything before a nurse directed me here. Same with Bones, I think. And Spock didn't have a session either, so it's not that everyone gets therapy- well, assuming they didn't just take one look at his ears and decide it was a lost cause."