ArchivedLogs:Making Things Easier

Making Things Easier
Consults, Coffee, and Jobs
Dramatis Personae Iolaus, Micah, Daniel	8 May 2013 Seriously, how has it taken /this/ long for Io and Micah to have a conversation?
Location <WES> The Grindstone - Salem Center
Mid-afternoon is work-time for many in the medical profession, though home visits are usually a province of the extremely rich. The opulent mansion at Xavier's School certainly qualifies as rich, though very few of its inhabitants are. Tucking gloves into a pocket, Iolaus turns and smiles at Micah as he exits the medical bay of the school, holding the door open for the other man. It is only once the door has swung shut that he says, quietly but brightly, "I think she's doing well, all things considered. Better than I thought she might." He glances at his wristwatch then back to Micah's face. "Listen... what are you doing right now? I've got some time to kill before I need to be back in the City. Grab some coffee?" he asks, eyes twinkling. Micah is clad in his typical work attire of a TARDIS blue polo shirt and khakis. He has even managed not to get any fibreglass dye or plaster on himself yet today! A few items go back into a travel toolkit before the box is shut with a thud of finality, then latched. He pulls his phone out of his pocket to consult the digital clock, a smile brightening his features at what it tells him. “I’m actually free for a bit. I’d allotted extra time for this trip in case more intensive adjustments were needed on the prosthesis. Didn’t need much tinker-time today, though.” A hand brushes at his hair where it has fallen a bit too much onto his forehead. “Y’know any spots ‘round this way? Can’t say as I’m actually up here that often.” "I know of one place in town that I go to sometimes when I'm here working late." Iolaus says, rubbing a finger thoughtfully against his nose for a moment. "Yeah. Little coffee place near the center of town. Should be open still, and probably not too crowded either." He dips his hand into his slacks and comes out with his cell phone. "My car's out front." he says, beginning to head in that direction. "Do you want to just grab a ride together and we can drop you off back here on the way back? How did you get here?" he asks, finger tapping out a message distractedly on the screen. His eyes glance between the phone and Micah, riddling the text message with spelling errors before he hits send. Micah nods, grateful for the other man’s superior coffee shop knowledge. “Sounds like a great idea!” He starts giggling at the discussion of conveyances. “Shoot, yeah. I’d offer to drive but you’d have to deal with my van smellin’ like heated thermoplastic and spray adhesive.” Well, that answered two questions at once. “Got a mobile shop set up in it.” His expression is in confusing territory between proud and sheepish. "Oh really?" Iolaus says, dropping his phone back into his pocket and looking with a bright smile at the other man. "I have to admit, ortho was never something I was too interested in when I was in school." he confesses, sheepishly. "I did well, but..." he trails off and shrugs. "I was too busy being interested in the little things." He holds his fingers up, squeezing thumb and pointer finger together demonstratively. His smile flashes bright, and he looks over Micah's face. "I'd love to look at it. I think we have a few minutes before Daniel gets finished with whatever he was doing, so, we have the time." There is more enthusiastic nodding, joined by a chuckle from Micah. “Yeah, not everybody goes in for the people-carpentry. Lotta bang for your buck if you’re into big and immediate functional changes, though.” He hefts his toolkit in one hand, as if to demonstrate. “I’m kinda a hands-on type, I s’pose.” He shoots Iolaus a lopsided grin. “Could poke around if you’re interested. S’mostly a lot of storage with odds and ends in when I’m not workin’ on somethin’, though.” "I'd love to take a look." Iolaus says, as they head towards the front. "It's something that I need to get more experience with, as I'm sure we're going to need a lot of assistive technology when the clinic opens." He chuckles and shakes his head. "It's funny - one of my majors in college was biomedical sciences, and all the BME guys were all over ortho and AT. We shared a lot of classes, so I got to know them pretty well." “You’re not kiddin’. I’ve got a fair handful of extracurricular work with your declared patient population…with just people I’ve /happened to run into/. It’s slow goin’ gettin’ anything actually /accomplished/ with ‘em. No funding /and/ about as unique cases as you’re ever gonna see.” Micah’s tone is another odd mixture of frustrated and /excited/ through all of this. “Makes sense, yeah.” His toolkit is bumping at his leg a bit as they walk, audible as he pauses for a moment. “Well, y’got my card if y’need any help in that field. An’ I can give you as many more as you want. Got /boxes/ of ‘em in the van.” "That's exactly what I say about my cases. Lots of uninsured cases, and every single one maxed out on the complexity chart. The insurance companies are going to hate me." Iolaus says, grinning. "Are you affiliated with one of the hospitals around here, or are you independent?" he asks, curiously. "I mean, you're working out of your van, so I somewhat assume the latter, unless you were a lot better at navigating the hospital bureaucracy than I was." he says, chuckling and shaking his head. "And now I go off to create my own sea of red tape, and the cycle continues." It is a wry smile that tugs at his lips, and he winks at Micah. He holds the door open for the other man as they exit the school. Politeness is important - and the other man briefly walking in front makes checking him out with less likelihood of the other man noticing easier. “Here’s hopin’ enough insurance companies get a /chance/ to hate you. Most of the folks I been tryin’ to help can’t get near ‘em. Might could be some sampling bias there, though.” Micah’s hand twists back and forth in a ‘so-so’ kind of gesture, indicating uncertainty. “A little from Column A, a little from Column B. I’m pretty much a one man show…plus one woman, but she’s all billin’ and call centre sorta things. So, I’m runnin’ independent but contract out with a couple paediatric hospitals an’ the VA. Since those are the populations I specialise in…kids an’ vets. Fun combo on any given day.” An amused smirk is dancing across his features at this. “Thanks!” he offers with a little wave of his free hand, darting himself and the heavy box through the open door. “I’m just over this way…” Micah takes the lead in the quest for Van. Iolaus follows along with Micah, a little spring in his step. "I doubt it. I fully expect much of our cases to be in cash. Probably just as well - if I bill insurance, I pretty much have to keep names and all that. If I don't, I might be able to swing by with just using numbers and that's it." He chuckles and shrugs, heading after Micah to come up alongside him. "We'll see. The lawyers are talking about it, and they love talking. Lets them bill for more hours," he jokes, glancing around the parking lot. "Ugh, right. Medical's got the worst paper trail of just about anythin' ever. Complicates matters for people as are tryin' to be secret about things... Though privacy's gotten better since the whole HIV era. Dunno how much anybody's rememberin' to respect the humanity of the Genetically Enhanced crowd, though, much less their /privacy/." Micah keeps an easy pace for Iolaus to follow, coming up on a large, converted cargo van. It is precisely the same vibrant blue of his shirt, and should look familiar to a Whovian. The heavy toolkit is set on the ground for a moment as Micah fishes keys out of a pocket, disarms an alarm system from a key fob, and unlocks and opens the rear door. From inside there is an apparent scent of plastic and adhesive, as well as a sharp hint of metal, as advertised. "This'd be the place!" He pats the door as he gathers his toolkit and hikes himself into the van to stow it. It is a bit claustrophobic as the aisle down the centre is fairly crowded on all sides, like the interior of an ambulance minus the luxury of space for a stretcher. "Yeah. I'm not worried yet - violation of medical confidentiality is protection enough to keep the government off of the records, for now, at least. But I worry about the future, and once they serve you, even if you fight it, it's too late. You can't do anything about it." Iolaus shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders. "I don't know. We'll see - there's only so much that I can do." Iolaus, it seems, is not familiar with Doctor Who, as he gives the van a confused look for several moments, his pace slowing as more of his mental resources are put to task to try and figure out what, exactly, is up with the van. He shakes it off after a few moments and hurries to catch up to the other man and peer into the back. His eyes flick over the storage space and he draws in a deep breath. "Do you see patients, here?" The smell does not seem to bother him. "Here's hopin' that keeps holdin' up," Micah replies, his voice a bit distant for a moment. He stows the toolkit in a locking bin before returning to offer Iolaus a hand up, if he wants to see things more closely. "I don't, actually. Whole other can of licensing worms t'be allowed t'bring the clients on board. I see people in the facilities I contract with, or in their homes. Here's just craftin' and buildin' space. Gotta storage unit where I keep backups an' bigger things. An' more space for stuff like assemblin' power chairs. Ikea's got nothin' on the companies that make custom power chairs!" He is giggling a bit at the thought. "An' I do some side work at a garage a friend of mine owns. Do the bigger metal shop work there that isn't safe or practical for a van." Micah goes on a quick whirlwind tour of the /many/ cabinets and bins that are built up against the walls of the van. "Let me know if there's anythin' in particular you're wantin' to see more of..." Said tour involves a lot of unlatching and unlocking things that have been secured for transport. Identifying rolls of hook-and-loop materials, sheets of neoprene, sheets of thermoplastic, assorted padding and foam materials, collections of metal rods and other metallic trinkets, a large garage-style toolbox, moulds, containers of casting supplies, a heat gun, dozens of types of scissors and shears and razors, just tons of /stuff/... There is even a small workspace that is something like a workbench bred with a sewing table. Iolaus clambers into the back of the van, looking around the cramped space with the curiosity of a child looking over a friend's toy - somewhat distant, interested, and, at times, jealous. "You've quite the lab, here," he says, turning to smile at Micah. "I wish the equipment I used was so easily packed into a trunk. Last time I moved the centrifuge at the hospital, they had to get an engineer to come out and recalibrate it before it exploded." He says, laughing and shaking his head. "Well." his smile fades, abruptly. "The old lab." There is a popping sound that comes from outside, someone appearing where a moment before there had been no one. The man is not an attractive one, bent slightly, with a face made for radio. The lack of smile doesn't help matters. "I'm here, Doctor," he says, gruffly. Iolaus turns to glance at him, and he smiles. "Ah, Daniel. Micah, Daniel. Daniel, Micah." he introduces, gesturing between the two men as he clambers out the back of the van. "Daniel is one of the bodyguards who works with Jane. I think you've met Jane before?" Micah chuckles a bit at that. "/Lab's/ a little fancy in the phrasin' for what it is. Actual lab equipment's more--" he pauses, tapping his finger to his nose as Iolaus describes precisely what he was going to elaborate upon. "Less precision assessment an' more small scale auto shop cum tailor's." His grin is broad enough to cause crinkling at the bridge of his nose and the corners of his eyes. "I'm glad y'didn't explode, though." That last might be gently teasing. Micah has been busying himself with re-latching and securing all of the things he had opened on the tour when that pop draws his attention. He drops down out of the van behind Iolaus, offering a hand at the introduction. "Pleasure t'meet you, Daniel." He nods in reply to the doctor's question. "I seen her around once or twice. /Met/ might be puttin' it a shade strongly." "Oh, give it some time," Iolaus adds, dryly. "I imagine there are those out there who will do their darndest to make sure that I do explode in the future. Jane and Daniel and all will do their darndest though." He chuckles and gestures towards a car, two down from the van - a Zipcar, in fact. "Would you like to ride together, or should we go separately and continue back to the city from there?" he asks, as Daniel disappears with another popping sound, a clap of air collapsing in on nothingness. He appears near the trunk, opening it up and stuffing a piece of luggage into it. “If I could get through a conversation involvin’ you /without/ any references t’you gettin’ blown up by crazies, it’d be a good day.” Micah scrunches his features up at that, but does seem mildly amused still. “Actually, why don’t I just follow you out? That way y’don’t have to spend the extra time deliverin’ me back here. Since I’m sure duty calls again soon enough.” He gives a little shake of his head at Daniel’s teleportation act, clearly thinking about how handy /that/ must be. "Easier said than done, these days. You'd be surprised how many conversations I have these days that deal with the methods of attempted assassination attempts. I gather there are several betting pools going on about it." Iolaus says, and he sounds more amused than he does concerned. He nods, once. "Alright. Follow us. Won't take long." With that, he heads back to his car. True to his word, the car ride does not take long before Iolaus is parked in front of a small coffeeshop. The sign above the door calls it The Grindstone, and the many tables of people visible through the window show its popularity. Arriving slightly before Micah, Daniel and Iolaus are already at the door by the time he gets out, waiting impatiently and patiently, respectively. It isn't a long wait, as the TARDIS-van pulls into a parking space near Iolaus's Zipcar only a few moments after its occupants had exited. Micah comes bouncing out of the driver's side door, pushing appropriate buttons for locks and alarms before meeting back up with Daniel and the doc. "Hello again!" he greets them cheerfully, as if they hadn't /just/ come from the same place. He pulls on the door handle, holding the door open for the other two with a little gesture of his free hand inviting them to enter ahead of him. "Hi, Micah." Iolaus says, brightly. Daniel takes the lead through the door, with Iolaus following just after him. Once inside, though, Iolaus takes the lead, stepping up to the counter and looking up at the menu. "Can I have... an espresso, please? Oh, and an almond biscotti? Thank you," he says, and turns to gesture at Micah. "So, are you considering creating a more permanently placed practice, or are you enjoying how it's laid out now?" Micah trots along behind the pair to the counter, where he orders a chai with a lemon poppy seed muffin, with a polite smile. "I'm thinkin' I'll always keep the mobile aspect goin', but /way/ down the line it may be convenient to have an actual shop set up, too. Pick up a couple other workers eventually... Gotta get things a bit more into the financially solvent column long before that happens, though. It's all still on the new side as it is. Ain't had the shingle out even a year yet." "Did you have a residency? My knowledge of the allied professions' education is disgraceful, I'm sure." Again, Iolaus gives him an apologetic look, and leans against the counter. "Or did you just graduate a year ago?" His eyes flick up and down the other man, and he chuckles. "I don't even know your degree, actually." His confession brings a touch of pink to his cheeks. "Sort of. The CPO and AT licenses both have minimum hours of hands-on practice before y'can sit for the exams." Micah is off to giggling again. "I know, I confound people's mental math lookin' younger than I am. I actually graduated about three years ago. Did some workin' for other people before headin' out on my lonesome. Good to get some experience under your belt with a /team/ in place first, I figure." He nods at the confession, blessedly managing not to start blushing himself because it /doesn't matter why/, it's just contagious. "The degree's a Master of Science in Orthotics and Prosthetics. Actually don't have to get a degree to work in just AT...that part's license only." Iolaus nods, eyes locked on the other man's. "Always good. I felt hardly ready to carry the title during my residency, and then I felt that way all over again during my fellowship," he says, chuckling. "One of my advisors used to say that medicine was the field you went into if you never wanted to stop learning." His smile is affectionate, as he turns to give a nod and thanks to the barista as she pushes the mug of coffee and biscuit across to him on a place. He doesn't get up, though, waiting for Micah's own food to arrive. His eyes twinkle as he adds, "And you most certainly do look... very good for your age, whatever it is." "That's why they have that whole adage about how folks only ever /practice/ medicine," Micah responds with a return of his typical lopsided grin. His fingers drum rhythmically against the counter for a moment, waiting for the addition of his cup and pastry. Iolaus's comment comes just in time to make Micah actually forget to offer thanks for the items' delivery. That part where he wasn't blushing? Yeah, not anymore. Pink seeps right on into red across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. He might be hiding a little as he gathers up his foodstuffs. It is only a quick moment of hiding before he turns back, though, offering a shy sort of smile. "Guess we...oughtta find a table..." Because the next step in this process wasn't obvious enough without saying it. Iolaus grins as he steps past Micah, carrying his food over to a small booth near the back. It is enough room for Iolaus and Micah, but Daniel is left with nowhere to sit. This is, perhaps, by design, as Iolaus takes the side of the booth that hides him from the windows, and Daniel takes a seat at the next table over, facing them. "And even so, the work the clinic is going to be doing is a world different than everything else. Even the simple stuff which we have well down... impossible." He chuckles. "I have a patient who is diabetic. OK, well, we understand diabetes control fairly well." He leads, gesturing with his biscotti in the air, as if on an invisible whiteboard. "Except his skin is made of metal. How can he test his blood sugar? How can we give him insulin? What's even normal in that case? And that's a /simple/ case." he says, delight clear in his voice. Somehow Iolaus’s grin is enough to make Micah’s cheeks shade a touch deeper. Micah follows after the other man, watching him in an appraising manner until he settles on a table. He slides himself into a seat, his food onto the table in front of him. A glance is spared to see that Daniel has squared himself away before Micah returns fully to the conversation. The patient description earns an inquisitive eyebrow arch. “Completely metal /everywhere/? Even like…mucous membranes?” He taps at his cheek, the gesture intended to inquire whether blood could be obtained from inside the mouth, perhaps. "I believe so, yes. I haven't had time to do a thorough examination, as he's in school, and I've just been consulting. But, I imagine, if he wasn't, this would have been solved without my intervention." Iolaus explains, biting off the end of his pointing-tool - that is, the biscotti - and chewing it thoughtfully. After he swallows and takes a sip of his coffee, he adds, "I was thinking maybe trying to figure out some way of using a molecule that is solvent to whatever metals make up his skin, and cause a reaction in some of his excretions." “Huh,” Micah offers eloquently, brows furrowed for a moment in thought. Trying to figure out how that would even /work/ for processes like respiration and digestion and… Come on back to Earth, now! He takes a sip from his cup as well. “That sounds…distinctly unpleasant. See, there’s one of the benefits of what I do. Strictly non-invasive.” That grin comes tugging back at the corners of his lips. "All the time?" Iolaus asks, curiously. "I thought that a lot of prosthetics required some fairly extensive surgery to work. Not permanently attaching, but... a lot of work, still." He picks up his cup of coffee, but seems to forget he has lifted it as he continues to speak again. "I thought there were even some prosthesis that were tied to old nerve endings. That might be just some journal article I read, though." "Yep," Micah replies with yet another nod. "Might be a lot of surgery involved, but the /surgeons/ get to do that part. I stay /out/ of the OR in anythin' other than a consultative role, an' pretty much get to play Good Cop." He picks a bit of muffin free to pop into his mouth, chewing for a moment. "There are some neuroprostheses available, yeah. But the invasive parts are still strictly the domain of the MDs." He mimes pushing something invisible toward Iolaus. "Y'all are welcome to keep that part." Iolaus laughs and holds up his hands in surrender. "If I didn't enjoy ortho, I very much have never had any desire to become a surgeon," he says, amusement in his voice. He shakes his head, and he leans in a little bit closer, as if telling some huge secret. "Actually, to be quite honest, I never even planned to be a clinician. I fell into clinical epidemiology and clinical genetics - I wanted to be a researcher!" he winks at the younger man and straightens back up, finally taking a sip of that coffee and replacing it on his plate. Iolaus's laugh sparks an answering chuckle from Micah. "Bein' a clinician is good. Y'can still do research, an' y'get to see how things happen on the /practical/ side, too." Another pause for chai delivery to mouth. "I think I'd go /crazy/ in a strictly research capacity. I need more action an' people time in my day." That eyebrow of his arches again. "You really meant to hide yourself away from all of us in a lab somewhere?" The question is less questioning Io's intent and more implying /that/ aspect of it would be a shame. “Hopefully very far away." Iolaus grins. "Not that you would have been able to tell. My medical specialty in school was infectious diseases. The suits I wore, you couldn't tell who the hell I was," he says, winking at Micah. "They are, perhaps, not the most flattering thing I've ever worn." He pauses and shrugs, taking another sip of coffee. "Then I became a resident, and I really enjoyed working with the patients more than I did as a student. Made my doctoral advisor mad as hell when I decided not to go to a research firm after my residency, but, what can you do?" Micah /tsks/ softly at the ongoing revelation. “Well. Y’wouldn’t want infection control suits to be /too/ flatterin’. Might start temptin’ the pathogens instead of keepin’ ‘em at bay. Opposite of the desired effect.” He giggles down at his coffee cup. Maybe because that blush is headed back up the red spectrum from the soft pink it had faded to. “Ah, well. There’s always time to go into research when you retire from clinical work. S’a lot harder to do the other way ‘round.” "True. Though, I fear, for the moment, I have chosen the third path. The /dark/ path." Iolaus leans in towards the other man once more and flicks his eyes first one way, then the other, as if checking for spies. One never knows where there might be evil lurking. "Administration," he hisses, as if it was a very dark word indeed. The serious expression in his face fades a moment later, cracking to a wide grin. "Well, we'll see, when the clinic opens. Thankfully, I have a good team." “Ohhh, that’s right. It is a dark fate, indeed,” Micah continues the mock seriousness in his own voice, his tone a shade mournful. The effect melts easily into nibbling at more lemony muffin goodness. “Have y’had luck in recruitin’, then? I can’t imagine you’ve had an easy time of it.” "Well..." Iolaus trails off, shrugging his shoulders, and the smile fades a little bit. "For some positions, we've been doing alright. But for each new position that we hire before the clinic is open, we have to raise more money. We're trying to stick out as long as we can before doing a lot of hiring, but that's a risk. I've never been a very good gambler," he says, and he shrugs again. He takes another bite of biscotti, and he chews for longer than is strictly necessary. "No, not particularly easy." "It is, perhaps, early to be seekin' commitments. When the building is not yet built," Micah notes with a reassuring smile. "Well, when it comes time, I'd be happy to offer services same way I do with the hospitals I contract with now." He pulls half a dozen extra business cards out of his pocket and lays them on the table in a neat stack. Just in case...because you can never hand enough business cards out to physicians, in his line of work. "Since I'm all about makin' things easier." "Wonderful," Iolaus says, brightly. "We've got plans to have specialists on retainer. All sorts of different positions, as well as staff. I'm sure we would be honored to have you on our list." He says, reaching across and picking up the business cards. He pockets them - all, but one, which he holds up and reads, before tucking it in a different pocket. "I think I will give one of these to Rasheed as well. If there is anyone involved in neuroprosthetics, I bet he is," he says, half to himself. Micah's smile is /brilliant/ as Iolaus accepts the offer. "Excellent. Feel free to pass 'em around. Like I said, I got boxes of 'em. All waitin' to fly out into the world like dandelion fluff." He blows across his palm and sends his fingers skittering away from him illustratively. Seems he's feeling a bit whimsical. Iolaus takes a sip of his coffee to attempt - futilely - to hide the smile on his face. "I imagine I'll be seeing a good amount of you, when the semester is over, when Jax starts working as a bodyguard of mine. I have a lot of downtime in my day, and with my laptop, I can work pretty much anywhere. As long as the doors are locked and the room is safe, they don't even need to be paying attention to me." He smiles, flashing a smile at the other man. "Please don't tell Jax this, but my plan is to try and make sure that he is home as much as possible, so he can spend time with the children, and doing all of the other things he does. It will be good for me, too. Help me remember why it is, exactly, I've signed up for all this." Something in one of those statements has Micah’s skin colouring deeper again. It’s really hard to tell /what/ with him. “That’s a plan I can agree with,”’ he comments with a smile. “What exactly /did/ get you started on this?” He sounds genuinely curious. Iolaus tilts his head to one side and he smiles, slightly, looking over the other man. "There's enough injustice in the world without me adding to it. Discrimination is discrimination, even if it's just by exclusion," he says. "My parents...." he trails off, shaking his head. "Well. I've seen plenty of intolerance." His words clip at the edges, and his lips press into a line. Micah is nodding again, at the beginning of the explanation, in agreement. He's very agreeable today, as well. The rest of the commentary, and Iolaus's change in tone, have him patting gently at the air. "Sorry, I didn't mean t'pick at old wounds. Just...interested in what starts people off on missions." Speaking of picking, the muffin is seeing more of it. Pickpick. More morsels to nibble at. Iolaus waves a hand and the smile comes back on his face. "Oh, don't worry about it, Micah. That was all a long time ago," he says, shrugging his shoulders and giving Micah a sad look. "If they had not done what they had done, I would not be standing where I am today. I probably would not be a doctor, even." He shakes his head and grins. "Who knows what I'd be doing?" Micah’s smile has not fled yet. “Yeah, y’gotta take the whole story t’get the person. Don’t mean y’wanna spend all your time dwellin’ on the storm clouds, though.” He takes another swig of the chai, now able to drink more at a time since it has cooled considerably. “Does seem like it’s the ‘bad’ stuff that tends to really push people, much of the time,” he muses idly. “Hm… I was gonna make jokes about what you’d be doin’, but I can’t say as I know you well enough to even offer entertainin’ options. It’d just be mostly random.” He laughs lightly at himself. Iolaus' eyes twinkle as he winks at the other man. "Perhaps you will get to know me better, soon, then, and then you can joke about what my possible other occupations would have been." He smiles and settles back against the padding of the bench seat, finishing off the last of the biscotti with a few large chomps. This requires some coffee to wash it down. Why the /hell/ is Micah blushing /this/ time? Because he is. Redfaced. Hiding behind muffin-muffin-chai for a moment. “Hm. I was almost hopin’ you’d supply some /options/,” he teases, watching his fingers as they tap on the tabletop. “But I guess that’d be a little too easy.” "Much too easy. I'm not that easy of a guy to get." Is Iolaus teasing the other man, or is he merely clueless? His eyes search the other man's face, and his expression is innocent. He takes a long sip of his coffee, and places the near empty mug back down onto his plate. "If you want the answer to those questions, you'll have to find out for yourself." “Ooo, mysterious,” serves as Micah’s reply, eyebrows bouncing a few times and tone playfully mocking. “Gonna make things completely lopsided. On account of I barely know what the word /means/.” He giggles, gleefully self-deprecating. Man of mystery he is /not/. Iolaus chuckles. "Oh, I'm quite sure I have more to learn about you as well." The doctor smiles brightly. "There is always more to learn," he says, eyes searching the other man's face. "I bet you have plenty of mystery to learn." Micah’s next laugh is quick, almost more of a snort. It is mostly through his nose. “Yeah, yeah, there’s always new things to find out an’ all. Like I said, I’m just about makin’ things easier.” Oh no, there are only muffin crumbs left on the wrapper! Micah /eyes/ it. Like maybe more will materialise. Or determining the merits of licking the remaining crumbs off of the paper.