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

[laz]

She watched him eat for a moment, contemplating exactly what had happened between the fight on the rooftop and breakfast at the diner. The hospital seemed light years away from where she and Hastie were now; almost as if it had been a dream. The haze of a steaming grill, good company, and incredible eye contact could only mask the throbbing pain that was now becoming more apparent with each passing second. How long had it been since she’d taken those pain killers? Less than an hour. She’d dealt with pain like this; hell, she’d had far worse in the time since her father’s death. Rory had grown so used to the constant throbbing that she was able to completely hide that there was anything wrong to begin with. Of course, that didn’t stop the actual pain.

No, the stitches were in an awkward spot on her shoulder; a muscle that Aurora used all too frequently. Between cello, drawing class, and her unconventional after-school curricular activities, her shoulder was well used. This was going to prove very inconvenient for the next few weeks. She didn’t mind the bruising or the scars as much as the restriction of movement. Rory could handle the questions; the “what happened?” and the strange glances from across the room. Those she was used to by now. What she hated the most was that she had plans in a few days to break into Nottingham Industries and they would have to be put on hold until she could have full use of her arm. The last thing she wanted to do was hang from a roof without fear of falling. Heights were no big deal; but, a faulty arm could mean a long drop to a hard stop.

If she did survive the fall it would give her an excuse to see Hastie again. That was, if he wanted to see her again. But, her question was answered in his eyes, and his grin, and the blush on his cheeks. God, the way he made her heart race. Was it possible to fall for someone so quickly? Rory hoped not. She would hate to drag someone like Hastie, someone so nice, and sweet, and innocent, into the dark depths of Hell that she lived in. But, with each forkful of food he popped into his mouth, passed those smirking lips, she couldn’t stop the smile that took over her face. No, she couldn’t be falling. Rory didn’t fall. But, right now she was the closest she’d ever been to toppling over the edge. And strangely, she was okay with that.

She took another bite of her meal, her thought still on what had led her to this moment. All she could think was how strange it was and how poor the timing was and how happy it made her feel and how much she didn’t care about the strangeness or the timing. For someone who always thought with her head she quite enjoyed the risk that came with thinking with her heart. But, her head still had some control. It wondered about him. Yes, he was nice to look at… but, what about him? There was no need to take a leap before examining the facts. And well, Aurora had very few facts to go on. But, the more her head started to ask questions the more she feared her own answers to them.

Parents? Dead. He had said his own had passed away. She murmured an “I’m sorry.” as she held onto her steaming mug of java. Rory could just leave it at that. There was no reason to go into too many details about it. Well, her mother died of cancer; that wouldn’t be so bad to admit. But, the truth around her father’s death would be a bit more difficult. She wanted to ask about his life. His past. His childhood. Hell, Rory wanted to know everything about him. But, it’s hard to get to know someone without sharing a bit of yourself. In the past, Rory hadn’t worried about that. She’d had a few boyfriends but, nothing terribly serious…

God! What was wrong with her? Why was she thinking so much about this? She never analyzed her relationships. Hell, she never analyzed her potential relationships. The only time she put this much thought into something it was for “work” or for her art. Boys sort of took a back seat to the rest of her life. But, Hastie, he was different. He made her want to be different. Well, somewhat different. It’s not like she wanted to up and quit her double life for him. She needed to stop thinking about this… she needed to focus on here and now.

“Wow. That’s incredible.” she began, taking a long sip from her mug. “I was born in bred in this city. It must have been hard to leave everything behind to start new.” she met his gaze for a moment before asking, “What do you think? Does it measure up to Haggis?”

[DR. HASTIE LANYON]

There couldn't be, really, a worse time to be absorbed by one's internal monologue.
In other words, he really, really wished he didn't have to suddenly have a burst of rambling thoughts at that particular moment.

The first was a brief flash of guilt, of all things. It had been just about the first time that Hastie had even considered his parents since moving to the country. Which, in all honesty, was quite a shameful thing. True, he had left Scotland (and England, practically Europe in general) to escape the pressing thought of such things. But that didn't mean he wanted to end up not even spending a few moments to ponder.

But the next somehow, miraculously, put all things in relation to the first thought far from his mind. Lanyon couldn't stop looking at Aurora. It was possibly ridiculous, in fact, the way he was behaving. Despite this (it was easy to put away the previous thought, as it really only had been a very tiny, slightly irritating one at the back of his mind), the doctor couldn't help but internally thank whatever it was that had happened for her to have needed to visit the ER.
Bad, bad, bad. Something inside him shouted. It was a bad thought, but one that he found he didn't care about at that moment. Her eyes were far too distracting for moral thinking, after all.

He wondered what she was like. Petty things, really. He wondered what her opinions on all that confusion about 'life-after-death' were (a only slightly morbid example that he would probably never dare voice, unless the chance popped up in some everyday conversation - he hoped there would be more of those in the future). He wondered whether she liked the rain. What her favourite song was. He didn't mind about her past, if she didn't want to share it - frequently preferring not to express his own - but it would be nice to know that, too. He wondered if she knew what a sunrise over New York looked like from the rood of a hospital.
And, more importantly, he wondered whether she would like to.

And this constant wondering was new, he noticed. Hastie did sometimes ponder on the 'what ifs' of life (never dwelling on the more personal ones, like 'what would it be like if there hadn't been any cars around to cause the death of... people', for example), but had never really gone so in depth as to hope he could find out the answer, one day, to his ponderings.

All too soon, however, returned a creeping tide of guilt. This time it was one that he had thought about far too many times (despite his many attempts to do otherwise) since arriving in New York. It was Holly.
How would she react, if she knew?
This was one he didn't want to see the answer to. But he knew that if his hopes of the others were to come true, this would too. And for some reason, that scared him.
For the first time since meeting Rory, Lanyon felt wrong. He had been married. And he couldn't just... not tell her. No, that was definitely out of the question. But, possibly the worst thought of all was the next one to pop into his head.
He had almost had a son. And, if it hadn't been for one unfortunate car, on one unfortunate day, and one unfortunate occurence, he would have. And he would also still be in Scotland. And still married.
And he wouldn't have met Aurora.

Bugger.

Well, it seemed that 'good Doctor Lanyon' came with a sticky history, too.

Stopthinkingstopthinkingstopthinkingstopthinkingstopthinkingstopthinking...
He missed her murmur of some form of apology, which was probably fortunate. Being a Doctor, Hastie knew that 'I'm sorry' didn't do much to help.

“Wow. That’s incredible.”
Her voice caused him to focus, brought back to the air over the murky water of his thoughts.
“I was born in bred in this city. It must have been hard to leave everything behind to start new.”
He shrugged in response, replying with a mumbled stream of words that closely resembled:
"It's not so hard, you get used to it. And it's nice to start new sometimes."

His eyes were fixed on hers again, for a moment. A moment of swirling colours and flashes of brightness, if it were to be painted. A moment of beauty.
“What do you think? Does it measure up to Haggis?”
Hastie Lanyon burst into laughter, a hand reaching up to absently brush the hair out of his eyes.
Incredible. Simply, incredible.
She had made him laugh, just like that. After a long moment of nostalgia, and private sadness, he was laughing. Genuinely laughing.
"I believe it does, yes. Thankyou for bringing me here."
The words were out clearly, and all other thoughts once again shot promptly from his head.

[laz]

There was a look of distance in his eyes as if he were looking deep into the distance at something very small. However, Rory knew that the only thing behind them was a tiled wall with a few old photographs of the owner with washed up 80s has-beens. This wasn’t one of those snazzy upscale places where someone like George Clooney or J-Lo comes in for a bite to eat when they venture into the city. This was a hole in the wall with cracked flooring, peeling wall paper, and seats that squeaked if you moved too much to one side. No, Hastie’s attention was not on some celebrity or the magnificent condition of the diner; he was thinking and Rory wasn’t going to disturb him.

Curiosity pricked at her insides; what was he thinking? She didn’t have the heart to ask. She’d mentioned his parents maybe that had spurred some long winded thought about the old days. Or maybe he was questioning why he had come to this diner in the first place. It could have been a million things; a dwindling thought about something at the hospital, a quick check list of things he needed next time he was at the store, or even a mental note never to eat strange foods offered by a strange woman. Whatever it was, he was harboring on it for quite some time.

His momentary silence gave her some time to wonder. What was she doing? The short answer was eating breakfast with a new friend. But, the long answer was a tad more complicated. Doctor Hastie Lanyon was like a cute little puppy in a window; you can stare at it all day and beg your mother to take him home but, at the end of the day your father is still allergic so all you can do is press your nose to the glass and smile. Naturally, in this example, Lanyon was the puppy, Rory was the kid, her mother was Robin, and her father was Nottingham. Robin would not like Lanyon; not that Aurora really cared much about what Robin thought. They may have been friends (hell, best friends) but, Robin didn’t dictate her life. Nottingham on the other hand….

Rory couldn’t drag Hastie into that mess. Even if he did understand what she and the rest of the gang were doing she couldn’t risk his safety. A couple hours with the guy and she was worrying about all this; AJ really was in trouble. They hadn’t even agreed to see each other again and Rory knew that she wanted to. She needed to. He made her smile; she never smiled. Her life was hard and there was something about this man that brought a little stream of light to her darkness. Maybe it was the painkillers talking or perhaps it was his soft eyes…

He finally spoke. Telling her that it wasn’t so hard to leave everything behind. That sometimes it’s nice to start anew. Rory nodded; her heart doing a quick flip in her chest. She wouldn’t mind starting fresh with a guy like Hastie. No, she wanted to start fresh with Hastie. He laughed, "I believe it does, yes. Thankyou for bringing me here." Once again, that small curl of his lips brought a similar one to hers. How does he do that? Her eyes found his and for a moment all she could do was stare. The world stopped around her and she wanted to stay trapped in that moment for ever.

It was simple. It was peaceful. It was… perfect. Twenty years on this earth and AJ had never been so happy; so weightless. It was like she was floating. Her heart swelled, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes crinkled at the edges. In this moment, barely two seconds worth, she contemplated all the things she wanted to do with Hastie. She wanted to hold his hand. She wanted to ruffle his hair. She wanted to stand in the rain with him. She wanted to hug him. She wanted to nuzzle her head in his chest. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted him to hold her. She wanted to stare at him. She wanted… everything.

“It’s my pleasure.” she finished off her coffee. “I’m glad you liked it. Or at least ranked it above intestines.” She gave him a small toothless smile; her eyes still on his. “I hope I haven’t kept you out too late.”

[DR. HASTIE LANYON]

If he had been aware enough to notice anything other than the woman sat opposite him, Hastie would realise that it wasn't particularly a familiar feeling. This... weightlessness. That growing feeling that everything suddenly felt right. That he wasn't ever going to make another mistake - as long as he stayed around Aurora.
It was a comfortable feeling. One that didn't need any getting used to, as the Doctor felt completely at home with the sudden sense of... of... Well, what was it? Love? It couldn't really be love - could it?
That was probably a silly thought.

Though, as he stared into her eyes (both unwilling and unable to tear away his gaze), Lanyon was at once aware that he didn't have a clue what her reaction would be to anything he told her. Rory was different, she was new. And she was undoubtedly... lovely?
Of course not. Well, she was - but lovely couldn't even begin to describe it all. In fact, to describe everything (despite having only known her for... what? An hour or so at most?), the Doctor would probably require at least one notebook, and numerous pens. Because it was unlikely for one to be able to hold enough ink, after all.
Though knowing Hastie's ability to ramble (something he was easily able to keep control of at work - nobody wanted a drawn-out diagnosis, after all), the book would most likely also be filled with any plans for the future his over-active imagination managed to cook up as he listed everything he already knew about Rory.

The thought alone sounded ridiculously cheesy - and so Lanyon swore immediately never to utter it out loud. It was true that he couldn't be certain of her reation to many things - but felt that there was most certainly a universal one for something like that.
It didn't seem good.

Never one to really take any notice of fate, Lanyon wasn't going to immediately wander about believing that it was by some unknown 'written-in-the-stars' fortune that had brought them both to that particular point. Though he did, however, find himself solemnly grateful for fortunate coincidence.

“It’s my pleasure. I'm glad you liked it. Or at least ranked it above intestines."
She smiled due to his smile - again (it really was like a lovely little circle of theirs) - which did nothing, really, but 'tug on his heartstrings' (as the phrase went) just a little bit, and make his grin widen considerably.
“I hope I haven’t kept you out too late.”
Again, that provoked a light chuckle from the Doctor. One hand moved to check the time on his watch, but froze for a few seconds part of the way there. Hastie seemed to completely freeze, actually, if one was paying close enough attention to notice it. Because, at that unfortunate moment, the man had realised that time was up.
He wondered if she'd want to see him again.
No. He didn't wonder. He hoped.

Before pondering on it for too long, the hand began moving again - until Lanyon was able to clearly see the hands on the face.The longest had was, as it always had, turning slowly. Moving across the tiny numbers in miniscule, jerky ticks. And, for once in his life, he hated that hand. Hated the fact that every time it moved, it simply brought him one step closer from departing Rory's company. Which, he wanted to admit, he certainly didn't want to do.

"It's a bit too early to be late," he murmured, suddenly all too aware that it was, in fact, very early morning. He dropped both hands back to the surface of the table, where they subconsciously inched slightly toward Aurora.
"May I see you again?"

[laz]

"It's a bit too early to be late," Rory chuckled softly. He had this twinkle in his eyes as he muttered it. She wasn't quite certain if he meant it jokingly or if it was just another one of his observations. Either way, it was cute. Oh hell, what was she talking about? Everything he did was cute.

She wiped the corners of her mouth with a napkin. Dabbing the corners to ensure there wasn't a smear of something that Hastie was too polite to tell her about. The napkin came back white and she signed with relief. The boy was so damn polite that even if she had she wasn't sure he'd have said anything. She'd have told him if there was something on his face, but then again, she was a bit more blunt sometimes. Rory had a tendency to keep secrets but, she wouldn't have let such a cute face walk around with egg or something sticking to him.

"I suppose you're right." she responded, placing the napkin next to her empty plate. "In any case, I had a really nice time." She stood up, slinging her jacket over her shoulders. She was careful not to bend her arm backwards too far. The last thing she wanted to do was rip her stitches out. Then again, if she did.... she would have an excuse to spend some more time with Hastie.

But, as it turned, she wouldn't need an excuse. As soon as she tugged the zipper up, he spoke. "May I see you again?" Rory was very glad she hadn't taking a sip of something before he asked. Her eyes opened wide, her mouth went slack, and for a moment all the air rushed from her lungs.

He wanted to see her again? OMG OMG OMG HE WANTED TO SEE HER AGAIN. She took at deep breath stay cool. She bit her lip and smiled. Leaning in slightly she gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. "I'd like that."