I Need A Doctor, Call Me a Doctor [Hastie-Casual]

[laz]

Robin was never allowed to speak again. AJ felt the air trapped in her lungs as she raced across the rooftop, her sneakers finding the perfect footholds as she scaled up the brick to the window ledge. One step more and she’d be able to jump down onto the fire escape, just one step more. A hand reached out and snatched her ankle, dragging, pulling her back down to the rooftop. She winced as he back slammed into the concrete. Her hands slid along the ground as she pushed herself quickly back to her feet. He was a good foot taller than her, the man with the thick black hair and unshaven face. Alan and John had already made it across the roof and were looking for a way down. It was a long drop if they picked the wrong exit. Robin was already on the next rooftop, sprinting and jumping with Much not far behind.

Her feet firmly planted AJ glanced up at the man with her bright blue eyes; they narrowed as she took a short inhaled and braced herself for whatever was to come. He flung a fist toward her, she blocked with her right arm and pushed him back with her left. His boots crunched against the gravel pavement as she stepped back at her, this time with a knife. The sleek silver blade hovered barely an inch from her face for what seemed like an eternity. AJ tilted her head back watching it pass over her pale skin and slam into the wall. The man curse and stumbled forward. AJ ducked under his arm and darted toward the edge of the roof she was going to have to jump. There was a seven or eight foot gap between this building and the next one not to mention at least a ten to fifteen foot drop.

She calculated the dimensions in her head, a forty-five degree jump and tuck would land her safely on the next landing. She could hear the crunching of his boots getting closer; damn you Robin. Her shoe hit the ledge and she propelled herself forward a sharp pain ripped through her shoulder but, she was already in the air. AJ kicked her legs out to continue her momentum and for a moment all the breath in her body was sucked out. A moment later her converse touched the ground and she did a tuck and roll to land safely. She glanced back quickly to see the shadow of the man and the glint of his knife in the moonlight. AJ raced forward, her heart pounding, she reached the fire escape of the second building and slid down the metal as quickly as she could. Her knuckles were cut and bleeding from being pulled from the brick surface and they burned with each hand hold.

On the last floor of the fire escape she gripped the bar with both hands and jumped over the ledge. It was only a six or seven foot drop. Tucking once more she rolled on the ground to ease her fall. Her momentum carried her back onto her feet and she sprinted down the street and didn’t stop until she reached Central Park almost twenty blocks away. She was panting, desperately trying to suck some air back into her lungs. And there was this shooting pain across her back that she had yet to identify. Reaching her hand back she could immediately feel the warm sticky blood from where the knife had met her shoulder. Great she grumbled to herself. She hailed a cab to the nearest hospital; this was going to need a little bit more than some hydrogen peroxide and a band aid.

The nurse at the front desk greeted her by name and murmured something about it being a quiet night. She pointed AJ to one of the examination rooms in the far corner of the ER, glancing around the hospital AJ was surprised that there weren’t more people here. But, then again it was three a.m. and a Tuesday. Statistically speaking, well according to Molly the nurse AJ had last time, Mondays and Tuesdays were easy days unless it was football season and then it was just Tuesdays. She sat up on the table and gently pulled her hoodie off. She was wearing a tank top underneath it. Her muscles ached and sh wanted desperately to stretch but, she wasn't sure how bad the gash was. The nurse had taken a quick look so, it must not have been that bad else she would have followed her in here. She poked her fingers through the hole in the navy blue sweatshirt and sighed, “This was my favorite jacket.” Her fingers were stained with blood and her shoulder was throbbing. Robin was going to get a piece of her mind when she got back to the loft. What kind of idiot taunts a drug dealer on a rooftop? The ironic thing was that they weren’t even there to buy drugs; all of the gang was sober in that department, although the same couldn’t be said about alcohol.

[DR. HASTIE LANYON]

Lanyon hated nights.
He spent most of the ungodly hours of the week either cooped up inside, or working at the hospital. And, as it had been a rather uneventful day of work, Hastie had long since decided upon the latter. Though, because it was extremely unlikely for there to be many visitors to the pediatrics department at such a time on a tuesday morning, the doctor found himself snatching up any patients he could find in the ER.
That number was still very low.

Of course, as a Doctor, he should be pleased at that. True, it hadn't been the man's expectation of how busy a hospital in New York would be - even in early mornings, but nobody wanted people to get hurt. Or at least most people didn't want other people to get hurt - though Lanyon most certainly wasn't going to delve into the subject of morality when running only on sugar energy and caffeine.
But, as a man with unfortunately little to do in his first few weeks of living in a new country (and even a busy city, nonetheless - perhaps there was something wrong with him), Hastie felt rather disappointed.

Outwardly frowning at his own, personally considered to be terrible ponderings, Lanyon banished the thought from his mind as he made his way to one of the examination rooms. He shouldn't be disappointed! In fact, he should definitely, certainly be completely the opposite, being a doctor, after all.
Hastie decided to blame these thoughts on the caffeine.

Wiping away the frown with a typical Doctor smile, Hastie entered the room.
"Hello," he greeted the girl, his eyes automatically darting from her face to the wound, as if already beginning to determine any sort of cause (it was probably best not to ask in the ER, as many people had a tendency to somewhat... bend the truth - though that didn't mean he wouldn't try to find out), before back again, "I'm Doctor Lanyon."

[laz]

AJ didn’t even glance up from her jacket as the door creaked open a pair of shoes entered the room. She ran her fingers around the hole for a moment wondering if she would be able to sew it back up. Her nose crinkled as she folded it up and placed it down beside her. The pain in her shoulder was growing from a dull ache to a sharp pinch and she was very happy that it was a slow night. She’d been in and out of this place so many times over the years that she was surprised that the man introduced himself. More so, it was the fact that his name was not at all familiar and… was that an accent?

She lifted her head from the jacket to the man who had walked into the examination room. He was far younger than she had anticipated, hell, he couldn’t have been too much older than her. Her pale blue eyes narrowed as he walked toward her, Doctor Lanyon the name definitely didn’t ring a bell and he wasn’t American. Not that it mattered much to AJ, a doctor was a doctor. Scottish? Yeah, that seemed right. “Evening, Doc.” she tried to relax her shoulders, feeling the muscles tense up.

She wondered if he had a chance to look at her file. All the other doctors had a tendency to ask if she was in an abusive relationship or if there were troubles at home. She always told them “no” and it was the truth. She wasn’t beaten by a lover and there was no “home” hadn’t been one in years. The truth? That could never be told, not fully, else she’d be dealing with more than medical bills. But, the excuses were starting to pile up. There was only so many times you could say you tripped or fell or it was so and so’s fault. “Aurora.” she outstretched her left arm leaving her right, injured arm by her side. “Most call me AJ, though.”

She paused, staring into his eyes for a moment. “I don’t mean to be forward but, do you need me to take my shirt off for this, or can you get to it with my tank top on?” she was wearing a bra and he was a doctor. It wasn’t like he’d never seen a partially naked person before. She wasn’t going to be terribly bashful about it; she’d been in a similar situation almost six months back when she had to get stitches on her lower back. Doctor Marshall had to sitting around in her sports bra for an hour for that little number. Then again, Beatrice was a woman.

[DR. HASTIE LANYON]

By the girl's behaviour, Hastie began to regret not having read her file.
It wasn't something he usually did - in fact Lanyon almost always seemed to read whatever information was give before meeting a patient - but the Doctor hadn't really felt the need, at the time. Though he now realised it was a bit of a mistake.

If he had read it, however, he would most certainly be more than a little shocked at the number of times Aurora had been in a similar situation. She was obviously very young, Lanyon would probably guess her age to be only about five years or so fewer than his, and wouldn't immediately seem the type (at least to Hastie) to get into any form of trouble. AJ didn't seem to be as bothered as other people would about her shoulder, which suggested to even untrained eyes that she had probably grown used to minor injuries.
And, of course, she was really, very pretty. Of this fact, the Doctor seemed to be quite aware.

Choosing to avoid asking the questions that (probably) so many other Doctors had asked, Lanyon shook her hand with a small smile, before moving to stand by her right-hand side. It wasn't an extremely serious injury, but certainly seemed enough to reduce a lot of other people to tears, if they were to be in the same situation. Though perhaps his opinion wasn't exactly a fair one, as Hastie did usually treat children.

He cleared his throat slightly, eyes seemingly fixed on the head of fiery hair as he stood by AJ's shoulder. He was a Doctor, and ought not to act so sheepish. But he was only a very young Doctor, after all. And she was very pretty.
"Uhm, no. I think it'll be alright like you are." He almost frowned at the partially non-sensical sentence he had managed to create.
Nice one, Lanyon.

[laz]

She smiled as he drew nearer to her, a soft, small smile that was meant to ease the tension that usually comes with this sort of thing. It’s the same way when two strangers meet. There is usually this awkward moment of silence where neither party really knows what to say. It’s the judging period; that stretch of time where you form a bunch of opinions fairly quickly that may or may not turn out to be true. A young girl shows up this late at night, dear god what he must think of her right now… most of the other doctors knew her. Knew that she wasn’t just some slag from the lower neighborhood who got a knife pulled on her when she refused to put out for some slimebag. Or some drug dealing street walker, homeless and eager. Or… she stopped herself. What did she care? He could think what ever he wanted of her. Right?

AJ met those eyes again. Were they blue? They were gentle, and in the light of the examination room looked a light blue with flecks of grey and maybe even green. She took a deep breath as he walked around her. Dear god, why had she said that bit about taking her shirt off? Her eyes widened; if that wasn’t a sign she was a whore she didn’t know what was. What kind of girl was that eager to take her top off? Get a grip AJ. she told herself. You are not a whore.”

“Well yeah, I know that. He doesn’t!” She could feel his breath on her shoulder and her skin prickled. "Uhm, no. I think it'll be alright like you are." AJ took a deep breath. He didn’t seem too bothered by her statement, must get that sort of thing all the time. Or something. Doctor Lanyon cleared his throat and she tensed up a bit which pulled at her wound. AJ let out a whispering wince. She was pretty good about pain; she sort of needed to be considering how many times she managed to get herself into scrapes like these. Or rather, considering how many times Robin managed to get her into scrapes like these.

AJ came to the conclusion that it was late and she was tired which was the obvious explanation for her momentary loss of brain control. She sat up straight, doing her best to keep her back muscles relaxed. The last thing she wanted was to be tense when he administered the Lidocaine via needle. She’d learned that the hard way the first few times. It’s the reason nurses tell you to relax when they give you flu shots, it’s not because they are trying to put you at ease. It’s because it will hurt less later. She exhaled slowly, counting the seconds as the breath left her mouth. Ten-nine-eight- what’s that smell? seven-six is that him? five-four-three that smells incredible two-one inhale.

“You’re pretty young for a doctor.” she spoke calmly. “I’m sure you get that all the time. What I mean is… I’m sort of a fixture in this place and I haven’t seen you around before.” She rolled her eyes at her self. Idiot.

[DR. HASTIE LANYON]

He was a Doctor.
And really should be getting on with the work he was supposed to, rather than idly staring at his patient's hair.

Almost shaking his head in an attempt to concentrate, Lanyon cleared his throat again. It took possibly more effort than usual to think what was needed to treat the injury, but Hastie simply blamed this on the time, and the simple fact that he was tir-
But he wasn't tired.
The Doctor frowned a little as AJ winced. It was only a very slight, action, but one nonetheless. Another little reminder that he was there to heal - not to stand around doing absolutely nothing.

"You’re pretty young for a doctor... I’m sure you get that all the time."
He chuckled slightly, immediately wondering just how many people had stated that fact to him already. It seemed patients had less of a problem with the fact he was very young at the other side of the Atlantic. Whether it was some form of 'American Thing' or not, he really had no idea.
"Well, I suppose I am. I do hope that isn't a problem, after all I wouldn't have got the job here if I wasn't any good, would I?" Hastie's voice seemed to fade to silent toward the end of the sentence. He was rather annoyed how boastful it had started to sound.
"But all Doctors were my age once, eh?" He added light-heartedly, as if in some sort of attempt to rid the air of what he'd said.
Brilliant.

"What I mean is… I’m sort of a fixture in this place and I haven’t seen you around before."
Well that was definitely a confirmation to what he had previously theorised. She was at the Hospital an awful lot. He was rather curious as to why this was, like any Doctor probably should, but once again decided against asking those questions. If he did, then the answers he would recieve would probably already be stated in her file. So really, they weren't of much use.

"I only arrived here about a week ago, actually, which is probably the reason you haven't seen me." Nodding a little after this sentence, as if somewhat deeming it a rather ordinary thing to say (and possibly pleased at the fact his awkwardness wasn't showing terribly), Hastie's hand wavered above her shoulder for a moment, before he quickly brushed her hair back, away from the wound.
"Right, you'll only need stitches. I presume you already know the standard procedure, yeah?"

[laz]

"But all Doctors were my age once, eh?"

She nodded feeling foolish having mentioned it at all. AJ was glad he was standing behind her lest he see the contorted expression on her face. It was a mixture of pain and humiliation, nether emotion was something she wished to share so openly; at least not in front of Doctor Lanyon. She knew all the other doctors in the hospital by first name; it was strange to refer to him as Doctor Lanyon. Although, she figured it was forward and a little rude to ask his first name.

"I only arrived here about a week ago, actually, which is probably the reason you haven't seen me."

That explained a lot. He sounded Scottish and she didn’t want to insinuate but, she figured that was home for him. AJ could feel his gentle breath on the back of her neck as he examined the cut. There was this moment as his hand moved her hair away from the wound that she felt every muscled in her body freeze; including her brain. It was strange to feel such a soft touch. AJ’s range of physical contact in recent years couldn’t really be described as tender; no, it was rough and hard and usually involved running or being smacked around. She could feel his fingers hovering over her skin and the breath caught in her throat. What was probably only a few seconds felt like minutes; her long, red hair cascaded over her other shoulder and she lightly gripped it with her fingers. AJ quietly braided it and tied it off with a hair tie to keep it out of the way. She almost uttered an apology but, refrained; it wasn’t really a thing to be sorry about.

She was relieved to hear that she was just going to need stitches. It wasn’t like she expected that it would need something major done like amputation but, it was always a relief to know she could be mended. “Yeah.” she answered. “Not my first rodeo.” she smiled. The shots of Lidocaine had to be the worst part of this whole experience. Cleaning the wound was painful but, having someone stick a needle into raw flesh was far worse.

“What brought you to the states?” she inquired trying to keep her mind off of the coming pain.

[DR. HASTIE LANYON]

“Yeah. Not my first rodeo."
Hastie nodded, though there wasn't really much point, as it was obvious she wouldn't see. It was always nice when a Doctor didn't have to go to the effort of explaining procedures. More often than not, the details caused the patient to worry more than they would if they didn't know. But the fact that, as she had even said herself, AJ had already had sutures before made it much easier for Lanyon.
Obviously he didn't approve, though, of whatever caused her to have medical stitches before.

Lanyon was a rather quick worker. He began to gently clean the wound with betadine solution, and was about to inject the local anesthetic agent (probably the worst part of getting medical sutures, really) when the girl's words caused every medical thought to escape his mind. They seemed to jump through a trapdoor, brought into existence within the Doctor's brain by six simple words.
“What brought you to the states?”
Well, what had brought him to the states? The death of his wife, mostly.
Though for some reason, he didn't feel all that willing to share that.

And besides, Hastie was supposed to be professional. He was perfectly content to take part in idle chit-chat throughout the procedure, but things were never really supposed to reach personal matters.
He stood, frozen for a few seconds. Or perhaps it was minutes. As medical thoughts had leapt through the hatch, perhaps any rational ones had seemed to do so, too. Even those of time-keeping and simple conversation.

Not entirely sure what to say (though deciding it probably best not to inject the Lidocaine until he had continued to talk - it really was the worst part), Hastie simply stood still for a little while longer. He must have looked unusual, especially to AJ. In fact, he half-expected her to tell him to 'get a move on', or something of the sort.
He really did seem to be somewhat of a terrible Doctor that day.

"A change, I suppose. You know, fresh start." Refraining from accompanying the sentence he finally managed to utter with a sigh of relief, Hastie seemed to reboot - much like a re-wound clockwork robot.
He almost felt like apologising as he administered the injection. Strange, that. He never did cringe so.

[laz]

She got the feeling he didn’t want to talk about it so she didn’t press the matter. What she had thought would be idle chat apparently was far more personal. It took him a while to answer and when he did he merely muttered that he needed a change, a fresh start. That could that really only meant one thing: he was running from something. Whether it was his doing or a set of uncontrollable circumstances, AJ didn’t know but, to be sure it was something big.

She was patient as he took his time administering the anesthetic. AJ breathed a soft wince, nothing terribly vocal but, enough to express discomfort. As if the wound it self didn’t hurt enough here he was poking it with a sharp needle. She didn’t blame him or feel animosity towards him; it was his job after all and in a minute she wouldn’t feel anything anymore in her shoulder. Closing her eyes she did her best to remove herself from the pain and think of something completely different. Her mind wandered to her friends whom she still had no idea if they were alright or not. Then it meandered to her father, she could see his face as clear as day. But, with that soft smile and bright eyes came the flash of a gun. Finally, she came to the image of herself sitting in the middle of central park.

The breeze ruffled her long, red hair, the grass prickled her bare legs, and the sun gently warmed her face. Inhaling a deep breath she felt all her worries drain away. She stayed there, her bare feet nestled in the cold earth, until she felt the light twinge of numbness begin to spread across her back. Opening her eyes she exhaled. “Sometimes change is good.” she muttered more to herself than to him. Could she ever leave New York? She figured that she could when her business was finished but, not until there. Vengeance was a good enough reason to uproot your entire life, right? She had a life outside her rebellious acts. She was a musician, a writer, and a political activist.

Sometimes, it didn’t feel like enough. Glancing back at Doctor Lanyon she tried to think of a question that wouldn’t breach his personal privacy. Settling upon one she tilted her head and asked, “What are we looking at? Ten? Twenty stitches? Or are you going to have to break out the big guns and staple me back together?” she made sure to laugh a bit at the end to show that she was being sarcastic and that she wasn’t afraid of his answer.

[DR. HASTIE LANYON]

Hastie remained quiet as he worked, his eyes frequently darting to AJ's hair; she had tied it to the side, but that didn't mean that it wasn't oddly distracting. It wasn't the fact that the conversation had turned to slightly personal matters (in fact, he was just as comfortable to talk about that, as he was simple, non-related conversation), but rather that he had seemed to become involved in some form of internal thoughts.
In truth, Lanyon wasn't entirely sure whether he himself believed what he had told AJ. Of course, he had partially moved to New York for a change. But a 'fresh start', as he had so put it, could be achieved in many other places. Perhaps even many other places that the Doctor would be more suited to living. But, no. It wasn't entirely the reason for his being in the states.
For a start, New York was a rather perfect place for a Doctor - especially one with hope of a lot of work - which explained the reason he had chosen New York. But rather, it was the decision to move itself that was partially fueled by the will for 'change'.

Once he decided the anesthetic had taken full effect, Lanyon brought himself away from the pointless contents of his mind. Though, of course, that didn't mean he was going to stop thinking about Holly very soon.

“Sometimes change is good.”
The Doctor wasn't entirely sure whether AJ was talking to him or not, but didn't have much choice on whether he was to respond, as it seemed the words had formed by themselves: "Sometimes it's necessary." It was barely whispered, and Hastie was not even certain whether he was sure what he meant by it, or not. Despite the fact that the meaning was rather obvious.

“What are we looking at? Ten? Twenty stitches? Or are you going to have to break out the big guns and staple me back together?”
Chuckling lightly, Hastie was rather glad that she had found a way to lighten the mood, at least. Smiling as he answered, Lanyon's eyes flicked to hers for a moment, before he leaned slightly closer in order to close the cut. The sutures were neatly stitched, and the Doctor decided to make it somewhat of a priority that they wouldn't be very noticeable. He doubted AJ would want blatantly obvious stitches decorating her shoulder.
"Nah, you'll be alright, just a couple of stitches or so. Promise."

[laz]

“Sometimes it’s necessary.” he had almost whispered in response. AJ wondered what it was like to be so far from home. She couldn’t remember a time she’d left New York state let alone the city. There were times she’d gone on school trips to suburban farms but, she was sure that didn’t really count. AJ couldn’t think of a reason she’d have to leave. Everything she needed was here; or was that what she had convinced herself of? It wasn’t like she could pick up and go now even if she wanted to. There was too much to be finished here before she could even contemplate “the future”. Revenge had a way of bogging up your schedule.

Scotland was probably a beautiful country. Well, she assumed he was from Scotland, anyway. She’d met a few exchange students from Ireland and the accents were a bit different. Ireland was probably nice too. There were fleeting moments where she dreamed of joining the artistic scene in LA or rushing off to Paris or London or Madrid. But, they were just dreams nothing steeped in any reality. \

“Nah, you’ll be alright, just a couple of stitches or so. Promise.”

There was something soothing about his voice; whether it was the Scottish accent or just his smooth tone she didn’t know. Perhaps both. AJ wasn’t used to people outside of her close knit group of friends being particularly kind toward her. Most of the “professional” crowd didn’t take to kindly to her, although, they never saw her face or learn her name. The other doctor’s at the hospital were nice enough, always cordial and such. But, Doctor Lanyon was gentle. He was soft and welcoming and AJ couldn’t quite describe it; he was unlike anyone she’d met before.

“Darn. I was looking forward to some major scarring.” she joked trying to keep her back as still as she could while she laughed. He had nimble fingers, soft and smooth; real doctor’s hands. “They say chicks dig scars. I wonder if it works both ways.”

[DR. HASTIE LANYON]

Lanyon was beginning to (only very slightly) regret not having kept the conversation to a strictly professional, standard tone. It wasn't that he wasn't willing to talk about his reasons for moving to the United States (in fact, what was possibly worrisome was that he didn't think twice about that fact - actually, he probably didn't even think once), but rather talk of more personal matters were beginning to cause him to think.
And Hastie very much didn't like the idea of that, as thinking more often than not caused him to be distracted.

And that wouldn't do in the current situation at all.

In fact, he was slightly alarmed by the fact that Hastie had thought very little (most certainly not at all, even) about anything but the present since arriving in New York. His mind had, not once, been occupied with thoughts of Scotland, of his family. Though, perhaps that was for the better.
After all, he definitely hadn't regretted the decision to move.
Even after, on his first day nonetheless, he had been idly traveling along the streets on his bicycle, before rather unexpectedly colliding with a car. Even after the numerous times likely incidents had again occurred in only the small amount of days following (just that morning had been the most recent, in fact - but still the good Doctor continued with his use of the bicycle). Even after getting lost - in the hospital - on only his second day, and having to ask (extremely sheepishly) another Doctor to direct him back in the direction of the pediatrics department. Even after getting stuck in the lift for a short amount of time - only after realizing that he didn't need to move to the next floor, anyway, and having to take the stairs back down. And even after being quite harshly, kicked in the shins by a rude little child when he'd "had to wait for far too long".

No, Doctor Hastie Lanyon definitely didn't regret moving.
He had walked away from every accident easily, and turned out to become good friends with the helpful Doctor whom had helped with directions. It hadn't been very long in the elevator, and his patients (with the excuse of the rather unfair one already mentioned) had all, so far, turned out to be fairly charming and polite.

After managing to snap away from his ponderings, Lanyon realized he had long since finished with the sutures. Mentally scolding himself for allowing his thoughts to run away (exactly the reason he shouldn't be allowed to think too much when working!), Hastie carefully secured the stitches with a neat, but tiny knot. He definitely hoped it wouldn't be too visible.

"Darn. I was looking forward to some major scarring."
He laughed lightly, moving away from AJ's shoulder to face her again.
"They say chicks dig scars. I wonder if it works both ways."
He barely thought, and not even a moment passed before Lanyon found himself responding, arching an eyebrow slightly.
"I suppose it could. But it depends who you're trying to impress, doesn't it?"
Idiot.

He coughed lightly, shifting a little before continuing. With his job. Which is what he should be concentrating on.
"Shouldn't take too long to heal." He pointed toward her shoulder, "You will need to come back in a week or so to get them removed." Nodding slightly as he spoke, it was all Lanyon could do but not frown. Had he noticed that he had used non-dissolvable stitches?
Idiot.

[laz]

She liked the way he laughed; that soft, light little chuckle that passed his lips. AJ felt a pang of disappointment in the pit of her stomach when Dr. Lanyon was so quick to finish tending to her wound. It seemed a strange notion but, she couldn’t help it. As he came around to face her she couldn’t help but watch those lips that produced such a wonderful sound. AJ wasn’t sure what had come over her, he was just a boy. Well, technically a man. But, he had this look about him, this youthfulness in his face and yet, in his eyes there was this maturity. She quickly glanced away feeling that her eyes had lingered on him for too long.

It’d been a long time since she’d felt so nervous in front of another person. AJ felt like she was retaining her sense of calm fairly well considering the quaking her insides were doing. She’d managed a few sarcastic quips and jokes and he seemed to find her amusing. That was a good sign, right? Or was he humoring her? She hoped not. He passed closely to her and she got another whiff of his scent. There was a moment when her breath was caught in her throat; a brief moment where she suddenly felt the urge to lean forward and bridge the small gap between her lips and his. She shook the thought from her mind, wondering what the hell had come over her. AJ didn’t have time for such notions, she barely had time to balance school, extracurricular activites, and extracurricular activities.

"I suppose it could. But it depends who you're trying to impress, doesn't it?" And the thought snapped right back into her head. Damn it. How the hell was she supposed to respond to that? She knew how she wanted to respond but, realized that it was neither appropriate nor rational. breathe she told herself; if only she could remember how. “I suppose.” she mused. "Shouldn't take too long to heal." He pointed toward her shoulder, "You will need to come back in a week or so to get them removed."

She knew the drill, although, she didn’t like the idea of having to return to the hospital. AJ may have spent a lot of time in this place but, it didn’t mean she liked being there. She wondered if Doctor Lanyon would be the one to take out her stitches next week or if she’d see Doctor Mitchell, or Jekyll, or Watson instead. She hoped it would be Lanyon. “Of course.” she nodded. “Thank you. You’re by far the fastest seamstress I’ve had.”

AJ stood up and wobbled a bit. She’d forgotten how tired she was. Her muscled ached and she wanted nothing more than to lie back down on the cot and sleep for a few hours. “Do you think I can get a couple of ibruprophen?” She reached out for her jacket with her bad arm at first but, paused after a painful wince to grab it with the other. Her hands were throbbing from the small abrasions and bruises from her leap. “It’s a bit of a walk from here to the apartment. I could use a few pain killers.” The “apartment” wasn’t really an apartment, per se. It was an abandoned building with a great loft that she and the rest of the gang transformed into living quarters. It wasn’t much but it was home.

[DR. HASTIE LANYON]

“Thank you. You’re by far the fastest seamstress I’ve had.”
Hastie chuckled again, fully aware that he was probably laughing far too much. His eyes shifting to the floor as he found himself staring - perhaps just a little too longer than he should - at AJ, hastily converting his thoughts to other matters.
He really should have probably used the dissolvable suturing thread. That way she wouldn't have had to return in a week -
For some reason, Lanyon found himself mentally frowning at this. The thought that she wouldn't return wasn't one he particularly liked. Though the thought of this thought was that he probably, most certainly shouldn't be thinking so at all. After all, she was a patient! And he was her Doctor!
And he, obviously, was simply meant to treat his patients. Which meant that, in a week or so, when she came back...

When she came back.

Perhaps he had intended to do it, after all.

He glanced up as she stood, wobbling quite precariously on her feet. As if in a simply natural reaction, the Doctor's hand shot out to help - though he managed to stop it halfway, causing his arm to be rather awkwardly suspended for a moment, before he dropped it down to his side. Hastie shifted slightly, tapping a finger against his leg rather nervously - it was a terrible habit of his, among others - as his gaze dropped back to his shoes.
What the heck was going on?

“Do you think I can get a couple of ibruprophen? It’s a bit of a walk from here to the apartment. I could use a few pain killers.”

Snapped away from his thoughts, again, by her words, Lanyon looked up to AJ. Hastie barely even heard the words, and had to shift his eyes away from hers in order to be able to even think about what she had said, let alone consider.
It took only a few steps to reach the cupboard, which he had begun to take even before nodding in agreement to AJ's question. He plucked a box from the first row of many - just typical nurofen. And, though he probably shouldn't (there were all sorts of characters around the ER at that sort of time) he obviously trusted her enough to give her them.
Which was probably silly, really.

Nevertheless, Lanyon spun on his heel without hesitation, and offered the ibuprofen with a smile.
"I'll walk you to the door." He offered automatically. It had become a part of his standard procedure to walk the patients to the door, and Hastie was planning on leaving for the night, anyway. He only was at the Hospital at that current moment by choice, as it wasn't part of his hours of work.
And golly, was he rather glad.

[laz]

Doctor Lanyon turned away for a moment to reach into the cupboard for the medication. He certainly was fit; Aurora couldn’t help but notice. It wasn’t like she was intentionally checking him out. Oh, who was she kidding? Yes she was. She made sure to advert her gaze as soon as he turned back to give her the pills. Smiling politely, she accepted them from his hand. Without water she quickly dry swallowed the pain killers and took a firm hold of her jacket.

She felt a pang of excitement when he offered to walk her to the door. What was she five? Why was she getting these butterflies? Her blue eyes stared into his for a moment, another smile coming to her lips. He’d barely said a few words and yet he had a way of making her smile. Why was that? Aurora couldn’t remember the last time she had felt this… this giddy.

Aurora wanted to say something as they walked down the hallway but, nothing seemed appropriate. Asking him to go out for a drink was beyond the question: one, she was technically underage and two; he was a doctor for god’s sake. It would be unprofessional for him to say yes. And what made her think he would even want to? She desperately wanted to hear him laugh again or see his lips part into that small smile. There was just something about him that made her forget about well, everything. When she stared into those eyes she forgot why she was in the hospital, she forgot about her father, she forgot about school troubles and for about ten seconds she forgot about English language.

Worried that he would find her silence rude she managed to utter, “How do you like New York so far? You finding your way around alright?” To be honest she was just happy she hadn’t said what she was really thinking which was “Gosh you have really pretty eyes”. And she was happier that she hadn’t added “Do you need a personal tour guide?”.

Rory was always taken by how white hospitals were. The walls, the floors, the gowns, the sheets; everything. It was so pure and clean and creepy But, tonight she wasn’t focused on that nauseating smell of rubbing alcohol or even the pain of her newest injury. She was too busy trying not to stare at Doctor Lanyon or saying anything terribly embarrassing.