(Untitled)

[jesus_h_cox]

God damn it, Dr. Cox needed his own hut.

As his eyes slid over supply lists and patient's names, this is what he was thinking, over and over. Living college-style was absolutely ridiculous, and he'd hated it in college, so he hated it even more, now. Not to mention his roommate or bunkmate or whatever was a stark raving psycho and not in that

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[robin_sparkles]

Robin had come in to check on Barney and maybe bring him a cup of coffee except she only had the one and it was really smelling good in her hands and so maybe it would just end up her cup of coffee. And she decided she needed it more when she saw who was there that day. "You actually work here. Huh," she observed. "And here I thought your job was just going around and talking a lot to anyone who'll listen."

[jesus_h_cox]

"Actually," Dr. Cox began, his mouth wide over the syllables to exaggerate them, "that is my part time job." His hand laid on the desk as he stood, rounding to the front and leaning against the desk where he crossed one leg over the other. "My full time job is a doctor with emphasis in making some woman miserable. And I guess.. well, Robin, I guess that's you!"

[robin_sparkles]

"Wow!" she announced with heavy sarcasm and a scoff. "I totally won that lottery." She didn't roll her eyes and was very proud of herself for that as she gave him a curious look, sipping her coffee -- yeah, it was hers now. She'd make it up to Barney later. "So does that mean you can answer questions. You can attempt to make me miserable as you do it," she allowed.

[hey_high_five]

The only awesome side-effect of being in the clinic was getting to eavesdrop on all of the conversations that went on. He figured some people probably thought he was a mannequin. A really unpleasant 'wear a helmet or else!' sort of mannequin.

Some conversations were more interesting than others. Some you might as well interrupt, as much as he might enjoy watching Robin squirm a bit.

"What up, hombres?"

[shot_my_shoes]

If Harry had thought about it much he might have been worried that when he was bored he went to work. Or to the clinic at least. It didn't mean there was anything to do necessarily, especially given that if he wasn't there it meant someone was doing their shift. But it did give him an opportunity to talk to other doctors.

"Afternoon," he said to the man sat at the table. "Anything interesting in the paper?"

[jesus_h_cox]

"Dr. Sullivan," Dr. Cox greeted without looking up. He had a sixth sense, knowing people were standing there before they even spoke, and he was so rarely wrong, so he just went with it. And he didn't know Dr. Sullivan (as far as he was concerned, his first name was "Doctor"), but he was a doctor in the same almost-lab that Cox now was, so that eliminated any degree of separation enough.

"Let's see... weeeeeeeeeeeeeeell, a whole lot of politics and somebody got traded to Arizona." He tossed the paper away in symbolic disgust. "Sounds like the beginning of football season to me, and all that pesky election crap. Are we done making smalltalk or should I just go ahead and give you that complimentary reach around while we're standing here?" He was sitting. That wasn't the point.

[If any of this is not OK, let me know and I'll happily change it. :)]

[shot_my_shoes]

Harry smiled as the man greeted him, but frowned at his description of the contents of the paper. It was confusing trying to match up the time here to when he was last home - not least because by all appearances he was many years in the future.

In an attempt to be congenial, despite the way the other man acted, he said, "I'm more of a rugby man myself." Not that he'd really followed it much recently, and anything could have happened since the seventies anyway.

ooc: oh, no, this is different and different is good!

[jesus_h_cox]

Huh. Despite the fact that Dr. Cox had been blatantly rude and crude and even slightly unglued, Dr. Sullivan wasn't terribly phased. He came off as sort of oblivious with a touch of above-it-all, and really, that wasn't so bad. Hell, it kind of reminded Dr. Cox of the only person he called 'friend' back home.

"Good violent sport. Not that I've ever met a single America who could understand it, myself included, but it looks violent and manly, verging on homoerotic. Now, if that isn't sports, then I don't know what is." He slapped the paper down on the table and curled his arms behind his head.

[thedescent_into]

Even after a year, Sarah Carter avoid the compound whenever possible. She can't remember ever stepping foot inside the clinic. Never willingly. Faint memories of sitting on a hospital bed with Adam's concerned voice in her ear, but nothing more.

She's bleeding now, a gash running down her calf. It's superficial, caught on a jagged branch while moving through the jungle, but she has to take care of herself. With her mind gone, sometimes she feels as if he body is all she has left.

Walking right past the man at the table, she moves toward the storage cabinets, intent on dressing the wound herself. Later, she'll remember to keep these sorts of supplies in her hut. Hospitals make her... twitchy.

[jesus_h_cox]

As the woman walked into his clinic, Dr. Cox did nothing. As she headed past him and into the room, still Dr. Cox did nothing. Hell, even as she opened the cabinet, Dr. Cox did nothing, but once she pulled out the dressing, that was it.

"Whoooa, hang on there," Dr. Cox called, coming out far too casually from behind the desk. "Either show me your PhD or hand over the goods."

[thedescent_into]

"I didn't know I needed a PhD to handle cotton dressings," she says calmly, arching a brow at the man behind the desk.

[jesus_h_cox]

No longer behind the desk, Dr. Cox walked over to her and reached for the cotton.

"I really don't have much going on here, lady, could you just let me? I'll even give you a lollipop when it's all over and tell you what a big girl you are."