tushanshu | TEXT ★ 004

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TEXT ★ 004

Obviously, I was not the only one affected by that damn Pagan holiday prank, but I am wondering:

Has anyone reappeared that didn't come out completely unscathed?

If so, please respond here, or come to the clinic. I would like to ask a few questions.

- Dr. McCoy

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[ For the first time it's actually good he has to resort to text; otherwise, Bruce would have a nice view of his stunned small-town hick expression right about now. ]

That's rather generous of you, Mr. Wayne. Thank you.

By all means, you're welcome to stop by the clinic or we can talk after my shift is over if that's preferable.

[A bright smile.]

Please, call me Bruce. And you're welcome. I'll drop by when your shift is over, do you know when you'll be done?

I still have a good five hours to go, but after that I'll be free.

Then, Doctor McCoy, I will see you then.

[And Bruce cuts the feed.]

[ He bids a few of the nurses a silent farewell as he leaves a few minutes early to meet Mr. Wayne--Truly an unprecedented phenomenon. Taking what data he's accrued with him on his PADD, McCoy peruses the screen as he pushes the door open with his shoulder.

Oh, goddamnit! He really needs to talk to Chekov about these blips of memory loss that plague him at the most convenient times! There's a voodoo witch doctor with a vendetta on the loose, and now his latest paragraph looks like a digital rat just chewed through every other character!

Before his thoughts fade, he begins retyping them on his way out with his usual sunny disposition written all over his face. ]

[And he bumps directly into Bruce, who's just coming into the building. He feigns a sense of being startled, and reaches out automatically to ensure McCoy neither falls down or drops the expensive-looking tablet he's holding.

Do you like bumping into linebackers, McCoy? Because that's kind of what it feels like, to run into Bruce Wayne.]

Sorry, I didn't see you there. You going to be all right?

[Of course, 'Bruce Wayne' has no idea what Leonard McCoy even looks like, so don't mind his congenial confusion.]

[ Oh yeah, no big deal! He doesn't need that shoulder anyway. Jammed two seconds after he leaves the safety of the clinic? Sounds about right. Too bad he can't do much more than scream Goddamnit! silently as he prepares to give this guy a piece of his mind through interpretative dance.

Of course, he wisely stops short when he sees the face of the asshole who bumped into him. An aborted Uhh hangs unheard in the air before he manages to scrape his dignity off the pavement and mash it back into some semblance of its former self. The best he can come up with is a nod of his head. He can take a muscle relaxant later. ]

[Don't be so dramatic, he barely touched you! Gosh. Bruce gives him a worried look, brows drawn down in Obvious!! Concern!!]

Maybe you can help me, I'm looking for a Doctor McCoy?

[ He can't help it! His middle name is Leonard "Horrendously Dramatic" McCoy.

Not that Mr. Wayne seems to realize that, so how does he let him know? Shit.

He figures the best way is to keep it simple. He pats his chest a few times and nods before holding out his hand in greeting. ]

[Ah, well. Bruce tilts his head, and then offers an apologetic little smile.]

I'm sorry, is this a bad time?

[ McCoy shakes his head and ushers them both out of the way of the entrance. Saving his research to a separate document, he opens a new one so he can actually communicate with Mr. Wayne outside of pantomimes. ]

There should be a cafe close by we can sit and talk.

[ Talk about awkward silence. Not that McCoy is great at small talk even when he has the ability to speak, but this is just maddening. Mercifully, the cafe is close by with plenty of outdoor tables to sit at. ]

I'm sure this isn't exactly what you expected. I was affected by that damn ghosting prank. Still trying to find out how to reverse it.

I'm sorry to hear it. I know several people that have been afflicted as well, it's very troubling all around.

[Bruce looks to be honestly distressed by this. He's not used to all this strife and hardship, Bones!! It's positively awful.

Bruce flags down a waiter and orders two coffees with all appropriate fixings on the side should Bones wish to doctor (ha, ha) his own when it arrives.]

Do you think access to my facilities would help? I could draft a special dispensation on account of these circumstances.

[ McCoy certainly appreciates it. The only thing better than coffee is sugar-ladened coffee. As he stirs in sweetener and cream, the doctor uses his other hand to quickly type out his response. ]

Can't hurt; however, if it's the result of magic I am not sure there is anything I will be able to do.

[ It's a dull sting to his pride, but McCoy is not one to cover up hard truths, whether for or against his own benefit. ]

I'm of the opinion it's better to explore every option with an open mind. Even if there's nothing we can do, I'd feel far more comfortable with the circumstances if I knew a trained physician had taken a crack at it.

[The coffee arrives promptly, and Bruce turns one of the mug towards McCoy, taking the other for himself. Bruce begins cheerfully adding numerous ingredients to his coffee.]

I usually take a half-caf caracoli non-fat latte with light cinnamon and a shot of butterscotch. This place could really benefit from a Starbucks.

Sure, I understand.

[ What McCoy doesn't understand is the rest of the words that come out of the man's mouth and he's the goddamn brain surgeon in this conversation! The best he can do is sort of stare as if he's trying to politely ignore the fact that Bruce is licking himself like a cat. Yeah, it's like that. ]

Oh. I'll take your word on that. I can't say I've had any of that, but I'll say I've found the best damn coffee this turtle has to offer--Well, I should say his sister had to offer. When I come by your offices I'll be sure to bring it so you can give it a try.

[It's okay, he hates the act just as much as the next person. But it's the best possible way to maintain his cover, so there you have it.]

I'd be eternally in your debt, Doctor. Truly.

That I have no doubt. He would bet his reputation as a doctor on that coffee. He'd never lose.

Technical questions. Just when, exactly, are you from? And what level of technology are we working with here?

McCoy is trying so hard to remain hopeful even in the face of sheer depression. His father always stressed the importance of working with what you have, but this isn't a goddamn cold or a broken leg. This is magic and mayhem and disease! You need a certain level of sophistication to battle this voodoo bullshit.

[Bruce gives a show of thinking about that carefully, then,]

I'm from 2011. And do you mean the technology where I'm from, or what we have here?

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TEXT ★ 004

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