[Closed]

[stalwartcane]

Characters: Watson and Stein
Location: Stein's Labs
Rating: Stein
Time: October 13
Description: Watson is ready for some tests.

Comments

[screw_disorder]

The door slides open easily, with a slight hiss of hydrolics, revealing a dim hallway, sparsely lit by the florescent lights pouring out of adjacent rooms. The floors are decorated with long arrows, though they don't appear to guide one anywhere in particularly, and the interior of the building had been patched up as well.

At the very end of the hall is an open door letting out a warm, friendly yellow glow, at bizarre odds with the rest.

At Watson's feet is a curious mouse that appears to be made of (mostly) metal. It's eyes glow red briefly, then it turns away to whirr down the hallway.

Thankfully, Watson is not left to follow a mouse into a madman's lair. Out of one of the open doors comes a voice raised just loud and high enough to carry. "Doctor Watson~ Third room on the right, please."

[stalwartcane]

Watson wondered vaguely how Stein had known it was him on the door, but a quick reconsideration of Holmes’ powers of observation and deduction made away with that. Perhaps it was from the sound of the cane on the door, or his own mutterings out loud. The mouse was more interesting - and undeniably mildly disturbing - for him, and Watson would have followed it had Stein not hailed him.

Third door to the right. Watson walked forward in a brisk a manner as he could physically manage, forcing himself to not stare at the state of the house in general out of courtesy. It was none of his business if Stein wished to sew his house together.

He came upon the third door, open, and stepped just at the threshold. “Good day, sir. I apologize for calling on you without prior warning, and hope that I do not inconvenience you with my appearance.”

[screw_disorder]

"It's fine." Stein is sitting, predictably, in a patchwork green-and-white wheely chair. He appears to be in the process of the entirely mundane task of repairing a communicator, which is a bit at odds with the fact that the rest of the room has tables full of various odd smelling chemicals, or body-bits in jars, or just stacks of books or half opened file cabinets. It's hardly as bad as anywhere Holmes' lives (the floor, at least, is clear), but there might be something to be said about geniuses being too busy to bother keeping their workrooms in an entirely orderly state.

Stein finishes snapping a black chassis back around the communicator and looks up to Watson with an apparently genuine smile and a cigarette in the corner of his mouth. "It's good to see you're up to leaving the hospital."

[stalwartcane]

Watson openly glanced around the office with some detached curiosity, taking note of the mess (and how it should be fixed, if he were to fix it, which he would not) and the different body parts lining the shelves (this, oddly, bothered him the least of the entire place -- Watson was more than used to such displays) before returning his attention to Stein himself, the man sitting on a questionably reliable chair and smoking as usual. Dimly, Watson wondered how safe it was to smoke within range of possibly volatile chemicals before dismissing the concern from his mind. The doctor had addressed him.

"I'm feeling fairly well, thank you," he replied with a polite nod, immediately offering medical information as he was used to doing with fellow medicos. "There is some pain along the nucha and the sacrospinalis, where the damage had been worst, but it does not cause significant discomfort apart from some ache and mild stiffness. Pray, I hope I find you well?"