ArchivedLogs:Reality

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Reality
Dramatis Personae

Hive, Iolaus

2015-10-02


"What else can we do but try, Hive?"

Location

<NYC> Russian Tea Time - Upper East Side


This chic and upscale restaurant serves surprisingly little tea for their name -- though it can be found, on their menu, and quite good quality at that. Elegant and understated, there is an old-world feel to this place. For those who make their dress code (and book reservations enough in advance), the food here is good, hearty Russian fare, although the main attraction here comes not from their extensive food menu but from their extensive bar. Their vodka comes three double-shots to a flight, for those with strong constitutions (and a safe ride home.)

Russian Tea Time is not the sort of place that you simply walk into and sit down at a table. Nor, particularly, is it the sort of place you simply call and get a reservation. You have to know someone - someone who knows someone. Or, in Iolaus' case, you have to have Lucien make your reservation.

Sitting at a table, dressed in a slim-cut light grey suit and a tease of a black tie wrapped in a tall, triple-wrapped knot. A tall glass of whiskey is in front of him, about half empty, and a folder is spread across the table in front of him. Each time the doors of the restaurant open, the doctor glances up, eyes the person, and then looks back down.

Today when Hive shows up, he's actually wearing a suit -- crisp and neatly fitted in navy with a pale lightly striped blue-on-lighter-blue dress. Polished dress shoes. Yellow-gold tie. His shaggy dark hair has been neatly brushed, even. At the entrance he pauses for a brief conversation with the maitre'd, exchanging a few words, a small smile, before he heads back towards Iolaus to slip into a chair opposite the other man. "Io. {Sorry} I'm late."

Iolaus smiles brightly when Hive walks through the door, standing and reaching out a hand for the other man when he approaches. "Hive." His grip is strong, a well-practiced balance of firmness and gentleness. "It's a pleasure, as always. Please, no apologies." With his free hand, Iolaus waves once, brushing the invisible offense off as if an errant fly.

"It's been some time since we've been here, hasn't it?" Iolaus asks, taking his seat once more and scooting it inwards towards the table. "Before I managed to bamboozle you into accepting a job best suited for an entire firm." The doctor's eyes twinkle mischeviously but warmly, a smile playing on his lips.

Hive's own grip is calloused, the squeeze of his hand brief. Well-tailored clothing or no, there's nothing polished about the way he slumps down into his seat, habitual slouch taking over. "Been a hell of a few years, huh?" There's a very small twitch at one side of his mouth. "Have a firm now, though."

"Quite a few, my friend, quite a few." Iolaus leans back in his chair and picks up his whiskey, swirling it around in the glass in silence for several moments. Only for a few moments, though, before he speaks up again. "I have a problem, Hive. My problem is that I'm running an ER out of my lobby, and I don't have the space or the resources for it. It's all well and good for the clinic to offer primary care, but when we find things, we have to get very creative about how we can actually /fix/ them."

Iolaus pauses for a second, then leans forward, excitement in his voice as he looks around, conspiratorily. "I want to expand the clinic into the building next door and turn it into a real hospital. But I need to do it on a budget, and in limited space. No dedicated ORs, no dedicated ER space. I don't have the manpower or the money. We need rooms that can be ERs, ORs, trauma rooms, ICUs, and recovery areas. And we need to get people in and out while not getting my staff killed."

"Budget." The laugh Hive exhales is quick and sharp at this. "Forget building, you're gonna need your whole budget just to bribe the city government to /let/ you build a hospital. You looked at the news lately? We're not exactly high in everyone's good graces these days."

"Oh, the budget? Very little, of course. Isn't it always?" Iolaus' smile is lilting, head tilting to one side and winking at the other man. "I can sue for the permits, if I have to. And I'm sure I'll have to." Iolaus shrugs his shoulders. "What else can we do but try, Hive? I'm pulling bullets and arrows out of people on the couches in the lobby."

"So instead you want to be pulling bullets and arrows out of people on the couches in the fake OR since I'm not allowed to build you a real one?" Hive lifts a hand, bony fingers scuffing a path through his hair, already starting to muss its neat brushing. "How many times a month does someone at the Clinic have an accident that would wreck a normal doctor's office? And I'm not even /talking/ about the times people have tried to shoot the place up or blow it up. I mean patients who could -- knock holes in the place or blow it up or fry all its power or -- god only knows."

"A month? One, usually. Sometimes two." Iolaus shrugs his shoulders, taking a sip of the whiskey and drumming his fingers across the surface of the table. "You built a good building, you know? We've had power outages, we've had explosions, cleanup. Lots of different things. But the building is still standing there. Mostly good as new."

"You've had /Jax/ explode that goddamn building and it barely chipped. Do you have any idea how much he..." Hive trails off here, his fingers pressing down hard against the tablecloth. His lips thin, head bowing until he lifts it quickly with a small smile when a server arrives to fill his water glass and give him a menu. He only speaks again once the man has left. "-- Good as new because I built that thing to withstand hell. I mean, I'm not sure you really get the scope of the work I had to put into that place -- just for primary care. And you want an ER. But. You want it without the actual ER, and on no budget."

Iolaus nods along, raising an eyebrow for a brief moment when the other man trails off. << Yes, yes, it's a good building. >> "As I said, you designed it beautifully." Iolaus' smile betrays only a hint of mischief, and the light teasing in his tone even less. "I don't think I do understand, Hive. I'm not an architect. I see a pretty building that serves its purpose - serves its purpose well. Even a very pretty building. The rest of it..." The doctor shrugs his shoulders, taking another sip of his drink. "Yes. An ER, an OR, in-patient. And some budget." << Not much of one. >>

Hive lifts a hand, knuckles rubbing at the bridge of his nose and his expression a little pinched. "I'm not a miracle worker, Io. If you want a /hospital/ -- and one that's going to protect your people --" He drops his hand back to the table, fingers falling to his menu. "You're going to need to do better than not-much-of-a budget. What you're asking for wouldn't be cheap even if I didn't take a penny of salary."

Iolaus raises his glass in a little shrug of his shoulders. "Yes. I know." << Fuck, do I know. >> The doctor looks over at the other man and sighs, once. "Despite what many people think, Hive, I am not completely detached from reality. I understand how ridiculous the things I want - need - to do are. Some more than others." Iolaus looks down at the liquid in his glass as he spins it idly, watching it swirl in circles. << How can I put this? >>

"How much?" Iolaus asks, after a pause. He picks up the glass and puts it to his lips, though not yet taking a sip. << Wait for it. Wait for it. >>

Hive's eyebrows raise. He settles back in his chair, his fingers curled very loosely against his palm when his hand lifts, elbow propped on the table still but his knuckles pressing lightly against his lips. "Not," he finally allows, "/completely/ detached from reality."

There's a brief shiver, in the room -- a mental ripple that casts a /sense/ of chill, a tightening feeling of tension fleeting across the minds of those around. Hive lowers his eyes to his glass. Slowly reaches for it; the unsteady rattle of ice against the crystal is distinct as he brings it to his lips. "Why don't," he finally responds, "we start with sketching out what your actual needs are going to be. Give me a starting point to even begin approximating."

Iolaus smiles at the comment - though a shudder does run through him at the sensation of that tightening at the edge of his mind. << Easy there, Hive. Easy there. >> "Alright. Let's talk specifics." Iolaus drains the rest of his drink in a quick snap of his head and puts the glass down on the table with a rakish grin. He pushes the folder across the table to the other man. "So, this is what I was thinking...."