i ain't got a fever got a permanent disease

[waiting]

WHO: John Watson, Rick Bradbury, Mitchell Hundred
WHERE: The Import Clinic
WHEN: An evening sometime this week.
WARNINGS: Swearing???
SUMMARY: Bradbury's nudged Mitch into getting a checkup, and he's found pretty much the only doctor he trusts to do the job to agree.
FORMAT: Quick!

[ somehow, bradbury's gotten mitch to humor him on this. while he was hardly expecting to expect mitch to walk out of the clinic like he'd got news of ball cancer or something, he felt a little trepidation about the whole thing anyway. he knew how mitch could be, when he was pissy, and it occurred to him maybe he should have warned john more about that.

still, here they were, after hours at the import clinic, bradbury barely managing to check the urge to steer mitch in. ]

Be nice. [ he reminded the mayor, before he held the door open for him to walk through. ] I'm not gonna be there to stop him if he decides to deck you.

[ though he might not even stop him if he was there, come to think of it. confirming their appointment at the reception was easy enough, and its just a matter of waiting around for john to show up and take mitch off his hands. ]

Comments

[viced]

[ Mitch didn't really react, for a few moments, his hands on his knees, eyes closed, like he was indulging in the rare moment of TM, and thankfully, his bed was on the side that meant the mass of circuits on his face, gently glowing, but it dimmed when he opened his eyes. ]

I'm pretty sure I'm not a fucking dog, Bradbury. What, did he send you in here to make sure I don't escape?

[ Resigned. He still listened, communicating on autopilot. ]

[waiting]

Like your fat ass could even fit through the window. [ The response was automatic, but though he stepped in and closed the door behind him, Bradbury didn't step any further into the room.

He'd never been a fan of hospitals, and he didn't think Mitch had much reason to be either. Not after the accident, anyway. ]

What'd you do to scare him off, take off your pants?

[viced]

He needed to do a blood test.

[ If Mitchell sounded a little mocking, his head tipping with his words, well, he wasn't so happy about it. ]

I told him to run the tests now rather than later.

[ He was still listening, waiting. Making sure Dr. Watson would only run one test, and one test only.

He didn't need him poking around in his blood. ]

[waiting]

You know that just means you're gonna be stuck here longer, right?

[ if bradbury looked unimpressed? that's because he was. but it was a bit rich of him to be asking mitch to trust the guy when he refused to trust someone else just because mitch asked him to, so he didn't. ]

[viced]

I had a feeling, yeah.

[ Mitchell would sacrifice his work, if it were important enough. This was one of those moments when he needed to. He didn't trust the doctor because this was bigger than him. This was the kind of thing he would never trust Edward with, let alone anyone else. Some secrets needed to be kept close. ]

[waiting]

[ he grunted, shaking his head and leaning back against the wall. ]

The hell are you expecting him to find, anyway?

[viced]

Fuck if I know, honestly.

[ He lifted a shoulder, casually. It wasn't like he was going to say that he worried about the THC that swam in his blood. ]

But I figure the NSA kept my records sealed for a reason.