ArchivedLogs:Interesting - Masochistic - Crazy

Interesting - Masochistic - Crazy
Dramatis Personae Micah, Iolaus
In Absentia	10 February 2015 '
Location <NYC> The Mendel Clinic - Lower East Side
With its sharp crystalline edges and sleek lines knifing up into the sky, this building is one of the most /distinctive/ new additions to the neighborhood. An angular structure in glass and steel, the tall tower has a deceptively slender look to it that is belied by the heavy security as soon as you enter the doors. The front doors are frosted with the Clinic's logo -- a rising sun over a rod of Asclepius -- a motif echoed in many places throughout the building. Visitors to the clinic must first pass through a small mantrap, guarded by some of the Clinic's security guards; once they make it through the metal detector and airlock's double doors they emerge into the much more hospitable lobby. With dark wood floors underneath and comfortable black and red couches at its edges, the high windows give the room an airy feel. A bank of elevators to one side carry visitors to the many destination floors, while the wide welcome desk at the other side is manned by a security guard ready to help point visitors in the right direction. It's lunchtime and it's a cafeteria! How very exciting. There's hustle and bustle and a general din of people talking and items being shuffled about as just about everyone tries to get food during the same one to two hour window. Micah is heading for a table and dressed as is expected pretty much whenever he is at the Clinic during work hours: TARDIS-blue polo shirt over navy henley, khakis, winter boots switched out for more serviceable work shoes while he's indoors. His hair looks like he has paid /some/ attention to it, at least, since its morning combing. In his hands there is a tray, bearing a plate with a turkey and avocado sandwich, a side of salt and pepper potato chips, and no fewer than three pickle spears. The thermos of tea visible from his messenger bag serves the role of beverage missing from the tray. Iolaus is a couple people behind Micah in line today, loading a large scoop of macaroni and cheese onto a plate to go with the salad with the plastic still wrapped around it. An iced tea sits on the tray as well as he slides it along the metal railing towards the cashier, eyes focused on the phone in his hand. "Shit, shit, shit," he mutters quietly to himself as he frowns down at the screen before pushing white coat aside to press the phone into a grey jeans pants pocket. "Shit." Iolaus adds to himself, straightening up and glancing around the line. "Afternoon, Nancy." He says to the woman behind him with a smile. When it comes for his turn at the cashier, Iolaus takes out his wallet and greets the woman behind the cash register with a smile and a rapid string of Spanish. Once through the line, though, he looks around the tables as if a bit lost, eyeing them each in turn like a new student walking into an elementary school lunch room for the first time. The repetitive cursing, quiet or not, gets Micah looking over his shoulder with an arched brow. He sets his tray down blindly on the empty smallish table in front of him. “Sounds like you're not havin' a great day,” he observes, waving Io over in hopes of at least alleviating the stress of finding a table. “Everythin' okay?” He withdraws the thermos from his bag, placing it beside his foodstuffs before slinging the bag over his chairback by its strap. Iolaus turns his attention to Micah and flashes a smile at him. "Heya, Micah. Eh, nothing too bad - just a couple meetings I'm going to have to push around to make fit. Had a consult this morning that wrecked my whole schedule for the day." Iolaus places down his tray on the table across from Micah, one eyebrow raising as he pulls out the chair and glances questioningly at the other man. “Hi, hon. Scheduiln' /can/ be enough of a headache sometimes. An' it's always that /quick/ consult that turns into an hour-plus debacle, ain't it?” The redhead offers a warm smile along with his gesture to the seat across from him, letting the other man sit before Micah plunks into his own chair. “S'why you got personal schedulin' folks in your employ though, right?” "Yeah, I just have to tell them which of the meetings I want to cancel and reschedule." Iolaus says, shaking his head wryly. "They'll handle all the angry phone calls. But I'm not thinking about that until lunch is over - that, at least, I'm not planning on moving." Iolaus grins as he picks up the bowl of salad and frees it from its plastic-wrapped tomb. "Consult was interesting, at least. A partially immuno-compromised patient that looked like HIV. But it wasn't. It was /FIV/." “It is nice t'have someone else on the phones when y'can get away with it. Janine is /so/ much better at handlin' angryfolks than I am. I usually just bend over backwards tryin' t'make 'em not angry anymore. She...somehow makes 'em realise they're bein' unreasonable, when that's the case. S'magic.” Micah crunches into a pickle before even pretending to unwrap his sandwich or open his bag of chips. Priorities. “F as in feline? Mmn. Didn't know that kinda thing /got/ similar enough t'cross over t'people, alternative physiologies or no. Scary not knowin' what t'vaccinate for.” "It doesn't. It shouldn't. This is the first recorded case of FIV in a human, ever. And yet, it happened somehow. The paperwork with the health department is going to be nothing short of a nightmare," Iolaus groans. He picks up a couple packets of balsamic dressing and pours them over his salad, which he begins eating. Between bites, he adds, "Doesn't seem like it will transfer to humans, though. At least, that's our best guess. We advised him against sharing body fluids with either cats /or/ people until we have the cell studies back." "I'd imagine it is," Micah says with a small headshake and half-chuckle at the novelty of the diagnosis. "Don't imagine they've got procedures in place for /that/, neither. S'good if he don't gotta worry 'bout spreadin' it so much, though. Hope y'all can manage it well enough. Though, things you've managed b'fore, don't guess this is the worst by any stretch." Once the first pickle is polished off, he does work the plastic off his sandwich. "Though with the talk on sharin' fluids with cats /or/ people, now I'm thinkin' on /people/ runnin' 'round tongue-groomin' things an' it's kinda strange mental image." His expression quirks a little odd before he shakes it off. "The part I'm worried about is that they don't. The health department has very wide latitudes that they can take with novel infectious diseases." Iolaus says, frowning down at his salad. "I've, ah, asked my secretary to lose the paperwork that I am sending to them to give us some time to type it. If it comes out as FIV exactly and not as something new, then there's not much they can do. If it's something that's been mutated significantly, though..." Iolaus puts down the fork on the side of the salad bowl and picks up the spoon. "Then tongue-grooming will be a positive outcome for that guy." Micah's head shakes /again/ at that. It might be it never fully stopped. “S'always gotta be some questionably legal battle or other. I'll keep m'finger's crossed for you an' them that it ain't nothin' original.” Taking a bite of his sandwich, he chews over it thoughtfully for a moment. “How you been holdin' up lately?” "If it's not one thing, it's something else." Iolaus takes a bite of his mac and cheese before he responds with a smile. "Oh, I'm doing just fine. Always something new going on. Ran into quite a character the other day at the Green Carnation - from the fight club days. Trick. Trick Jones. Remember him?" "True enough," Micah agrees with a hint of a sigh to his words. "Good, good. S'often enough there's attempts on your /life/ goin' on, so checkin' in's more'n a formality with you." His grin turns lopsided before he hides it behind his sandwich, almost making it to another bite before...well, that name. Frowning, he sets the sandwich back on its plate and scrubs his fingers over his face instead. "Trib? He weren't startin' no trouble, was he?" "Well, if anyone would know about attempts on my life, it would be your husband." Iolaus says, flashing Micah a smile. "I think him and Jane are still tied for numbers of life-saving attempts. There's some betting pool, I hear, but I'm not allowed to join it for obvious reasons." Chuckling, Iolaus takes a few more bites to eat. "Trib - that was it." Iolaus snaps his fingers. "Eh, I've mellowed in my old age. I'll take the half-credit." He winks and then shrugs his shoulders. "Oh, no trouble. One of his friends told him it was a swinger's club. I think he was a bit perplexed to find out it wasn't. Took a change of gears, I mean." "Would be. I hear there's a whole whiteboard an' tallies involved." If one can't be lighthearted about assassination attempts, what else is there? "You're not allowed t'join 'cause you're totally in the best place t'try an' take you out." Micah's shoulders tense, teeth digging into his lower lip at the rest of the description of the evening. "It's...just. Be careful with 'im, okay? He's...got history an' he don't even seem t'realise where it's problematic. S'the more dangerous kinda history." "Oh?" Iolaus says, curiously. He leans slightly forward, waving a hand in a circular motion. "Don't leave me hanging, Micah. I'm hungry for gossip. I could tell that he put Jane a little bit on edge, but... it's Jane. She's always on edge - I figured it was just how he looked. Didn't even ask if she knew him." Micah shifts uncomfortably in his seat, a faint blush already rising in his cheeks. "Don't know if maybe Jane knows 'im or the story. Could be. For all m'chatterin' I'm not really much of a gossip. An' I don't like judgin' folks on secondhand news. Or speakin' ill of folks, gen'rally, but. It's one of those. I dunno. Public good kinda things? When y'got somebody with a history of actin' predatory an' the means t'keep on..." There's beating around the bush and then there's doing /laps/ around it, which seems to be where Micah finds himself. He heaves a sigh before finally coming out with it. "In those cages. 'Sides bein' terrifyin' in gen'ral. He threatened the pups' friend Peter. Like...a sexual violence kinda threat. In a way they felt real sure he'd act on. He an' the pups've been messed up about it ever since. But Trib? He insists he didn't do nothin' an' don't get why nobody'd be upset. S'one thing breakin' down in that kinda environment an' sayin' or doin' things y'wouldn't usually. S'bad enough. But then actin' like the bunch of terrified kids been doin' /him/ wrong bein' messed up by it? It's just..." He pokes at the pickle remaining on the plate with the one he has slid away from it. "Be careful. I don't want nobody gettin' hurt." Iolaus listens as Micah speaks, nodding in between bites of his food. "/Really/. Huh." He rubs at the tip of his nose with the handle of his spoon for a moment, contemplating. "You know, I bet Jane does know about this, actually. She muttered something about him in the car ride afterwards - something about the people in the swinger's club being too old for him. I just passed it off as her awful sense of humor - or a joke about swinger's clubs. Or both. It is Jane." The doctor chews at the inside of his cheek for a moment, contemplatively. "Wouldn't have made him out for a predator from our conversation. But good to know - I'll keep it in mind in case our paths cross again. But I'm in good hands, Micah. And if what you say is right, I'm probably too old for him anyway." He grins. "Maybe I have a shitty sense of humor too, come to think of it." "I wouldn't be surprised if she knew," is all Micah manages for awhile. "He...don't really seem that way at first, does he? I thought it was just me an' my utter lack of character judgement capabilities. We was... The kids ain't never said the /name/ of the person when they talked 'bout what happened in there. I met Trib independent of it. We was friendly for a good while 'fore someone who knew better clued me. Fair sure he thinks /I've/ wronged /him/ pretty good, changin' m'tune in how we interact since. With him still actin' like it /weren't/ nothin'. An' it bein' my /kids/." The pickle juice leaves little abstract patterns on the plate as he drags the pickle across it. "Ain't sure of it, though? I ain't got a lot t'go off of. If it's an age thing. Or if it's a power thing. Age dif'rence is just /one/ kinda power imbalance, y'know?" "Either way, I'm not worried. He's not got a reason to kill me, which puts him way down the list of Iolaus' Imminent Security Threats." Iolaus says, wryly, and he shrugs his shoulders. "Still, if he's got that kind of inclination, I'll make sure that Jane knows if she doesn't already. That way someone can keep a closer eye on him if he comes to the clinic." Iolaus scrapes at the plate with the edge of the spoon thoughtfully, looking down into the cheesy sauce for a moment before he resumes eating. "How about you, Micah? How are you doing?" "Okay. I just don't like t'think of one more thing tryin' t'hurt you. Whether it's a life-threatenin' kinda hurt or not. An'...B does. Still work for you, too." Jane being on the case seems to reassure Micah some. He nods and finally bites off a chunk of the poor, abused pickle spear, at least. "I'm...okay? It's been... It's always a lot. There's always somebody I'm worried 'bout dyin', feels like. Hive's been...tuned out again, worse'n b'fore. Pups're gettin' ready t'turn eighteen. There was that...failed adoption. On top of the mess it was in itself, an' that was a /big/ one, seemed t'bring grievances 'gainst me out of the woodwork. So I've just been. Off. But I mean. Nobody's tried t'blow me or m'family up lately. Matter of degrees. Feels wrong complainin' 'bout normal things ever." "Hurt is hurt, Micah," Iolaus reminds the other man gently. "If we go trying to hold it up to the past or to other people's, we won't be honest with ourselves." Iolaus reaches across the table to briefly rub the other man's hand with his fingers - the top of it, at least, which is not covered in pickle entrails. "There's nothing wrong with feeling how you feel." He withdraws his hand after a moment to resume eating - back to the salad, now that it has had time to steep in the vinaigrette. "Yeah, B does, but just because they're too stubborn to quit. They've got waaay more important things than doing my secretarial work. Hoverboards." He chuckles and shakes his head. "Didn't think I'd live to see Back to the Future." “Feelin' like it's wrong t'complain's a feelin', too,” Micah points out with a hint of a smile, though it is a mirthless one, looking down at the hand on his. “An' /who/ I'd be complainin' at. Poster child for ev'rybody questionin' your motives an' not havin' nobody treat you like you b'long, neither.” The rest of the pickle soon disappears and Micah starts work on the sandwich again. “Imagine the question of hir ongoin' employment with you might come to a head more on account'a /school/ than work, though. College. Kid's a crazy genius but school's both time consumin' an' often enough /distant/.” "Eh, I'm here to listen. And, while I'll be sad to see them go, I've been trying to get them to quit since Tony Stark came along and offered them a job." Iolaus says, laughing quietly. "So it's not like I haven't known that this is coming for a while." He pauses for a second, considering, and shrugs his shoulders. "College was an interesting time for me. But it was definitely time-consuming. I don't suggest a triple-major." “Sure it's somethin' y'gotta deal with enough on your own.” Another bite of sandwich. “Y'got a plan for havin' somebody else take over? Seems like the kinda thing that'll take a fair amount of transitionin'.” Micah's lips twitch over to one side in an amused, lopsided, sort-of grin. “I think it's fair t'say that 'interestin' ' an' 'masochistic' /pretty/ much've always fit t'describe your particular experience set.” "Yeah, I'll probably have one of the people who manage my calendar step up to do the rest. They're already doing some of it for B, so the rest shouldn't be too much of a leap. Hopefully." Iolaus' smile turns wolfish and he winks at Micah. "If it's any consolation, the triple-major was way less work than the MD/Ph.D was. And one of the majors was an independent, so it's less bad, you know?" He pauses for a second and grins. "Yeah, well. I've always been intelligent, but I've never been smart." Micah laughs outright at the smile and wink combination. "Consolation t'who? I weren't the one had t'put up with any of that. Went straight through a master's program after high school, smooth-like. Got a few hundred certifications, but that's just...a lotta tests an' field work. S'this mean I get t'be the smart one?" His eyebrows bounce once, playfully, as he finally opens his chips and crunches on one. "I think it /definitely/ means you get to be the smarter one." Iolaus says before chomping down on the last bit of lettuce. "I didn't /start/ working until I was thirty. Before that it was school, school, more school, residency, fellowships..." Iolaus shakes his head and leans back in his chair. "Some of it I miss. Most of it, not so much. Especially not the fucking hours in residency." "Mmn, point for me, then," Micah teases, miming a tally mark in the air with a chip. "Gotta say that definitely deterred me from goin' down the MD path. M'not good at the waitin' part. Got ruined for it as a kid. Always wanna have hands on an' be in the /doin'/ part. 'Specially if it's 'bout helpin' other folks. Get to it, already." A self-deprecating little smile comes accompanied by a brief lowering of his gaze. "Don't guess that /needed/ tellin' for the guy whose initial business plan included livin' out of the company van." "I think I could have guessed that, Micah," Iolaus says, dryly, a grin spreading on his face. "Then again, I'm not much one to talk. I did all that waiting and then when it was all done, decided to throw it all away and start this crazy place." Iolaus looks around the room, and, for a brief moment, pride shows on his face. "So, maybe that one is a wash between the two of us." Brief though it may be, that look of pride only widens Micah's smile. "Oh, I think we'd likely have a pretty fair competition for the Crazy title. Though I couldn't get by usin' /just/ m'work history like you could." For all of this acknowledgement, his cheeks still pick up a brighter shade of pink. "I wouldn't be so sure about that, Micah," Iolaus says, putting empty salad bowl on the cheesy-but-empty plate. "You've done some pretty high-end prosthetic work here - definitely some stuff that's worth publishing. And with your name on a couple of the other papers that have come out around here, I think you might be able to swing a job easier than I would. After all, you've still got a separate practice. I've got this for life - one way or the other." The doctor winks, playfully. "Well. I better go let my people know who to bump for my meetings. Sooner they know, the sooner the yelling can be over." “Nah. Public wouldn't know me from Adam if it weren't for Jax. I ain't been takin' near so big risks from a business standpoint. Credit where credit's due, fella what's got 'is own /team/ of bodyguards.” Micah stands when Io moves to leave, out of courtesy, though it will take him some minutes more to finish his own lunch and head out. “Rip off the bandage... Good luck with that. An' thanks for listenin' to m'whinin'.” "I'm sorry I couldn't stay longer, Micah. My door is always open, though. For you, I'll happily cancel appointments." Iolaus picks up his tray and stands, one hand dropping to squeeze at Micah's shoulder. "Don't be a stranger. Let's do dinner some night soon, when Jax is working. Easiest to rope him in that way, I think. See you soon, Micah." He flashes the other man a bright smile and then heads to return tray and bowls for washing. "Oh, not t'worry. I know doctor-time is precious, an' it /is/ the middle of the work day. I'll be back to it soon enough m'self." Micah's hand lifts to pat at Io's on his shoulder. "Sure enough'll take you up on that. I'll cook an' bring in. Make a little picnic of it." He returns the smile along with a small wave, then takes his seat and goes about polishing off his food to do that getting back to work thing sooner rather than later.