Dammit All!!!, Tag; Rachel!

[Michael Dawson]

(OOC: Just as a note, this thread will be taking place before the player-plot where Michael confronts Ryan about Cornelia's information - Noted for continuity's sake.)

Michael had been off-world for two weeks on a rather... strange job in which he was actually getting back into fighting. The deal was, Michael was going to represent a client at a undercover fighting ring. Well, that was all well and good until one of the henchmen decided to lace his gloves with micro-glycerin, or MG as it was uncreatively dubbed in their fighting undergound. It was a compressed glycerin compound, that, when laced over the fighter's gloves would create essentially a small explosion that would destroy the opponent's skin and leave nasty wounds.

Well, Michael was getting fucked up. But it wasn't his first rodeo with MG, and he managed to defeated the burly newcomer. Things went sour when he was accused of foul-play. The ring was owned by a mobster, and with Michael fighting on behalf of a client well... Mob's rules, rule. Michael was 'disqualified', and when he disputed the judgement they pulled weapons. Michael had to make a get away, barely making it back to the shuttle, though he suffered a bullet to his right shoulder that hurt like a bitch.

Flying as quickly to Initium from Corwin as he could, he docked at his house. Without a car, Michael had to walk to the hospital. People were staring, horrified at the various wounds he had received. It was amazing he'd made it to the hospital in his condition; Shot in the shoulder, MG wounds that had done serious damage on both of his forearms when he was keeping his guard up, and one long, nasty gash across his left cheek from where the bastard had caught him with a lucky right jab.

The front desk staff at the hospital happened to be an Archer supporter, and quickly sent Michael on up to a room, telling him a Doctor Hawkings... Hawkins?... Hawk?..... A doctor would be with him as soon as possible.

[Rachel Hawkins]

Rachel was leaning against a counter at one of the nurses’ stations clad in her doctor’s coat, finishing up the records for one of her patient files. The hospital was busy enough for this time of day, and nurses bustled about, prepping patients for the few doctors that were in the ward at the moment. She passed the file forward to the nurse working the desk, and nodded in gratitude.

Turning, she was just about to go take her break, when she was interrupted by one of the other nurses. “Excuse me, Dr. Hawkins, but we’ve got a… burn victim that just came in.” Rachel raised her eyebrows. “Okay...” she said, looking at the nurse curiously. “Couldn’t Dr. Peters have taken him? I was about to take lunch –” The nurse shook her head quickly, interrupting her. Something in the nurse’s face told her this was a ‘special’ case. She lowered her voice before continuing. “Doctor, he’s a supporter of the Archers.” Realization crossed her face, and she nodded at the nurse, glancing around as though making sure no one was paying too much attention.

The nurse passed the note into her hand – not even a proper file – and she made her way to the designated room. Rachel Hawkins was a known Fringe Doctor amongst those on Initium and Hale; she had gotten her education in the Fringe, not even travelling to the core for her degrees. She was often looked down upon for such, but that didn’t mean that there weren’t those that came to her because they knew she worked off the charts from time to time.

Which was most likely why the person at the front desk had sent this patient up to her. There was no telling how he had gotten those wounds. Perhaps it simply looked worse than it was, but she knew that the Fringers at the hospital liked to be overly-cautious when things looked to be on the illegal side of things. Rachel entered the room of the patient, finding a rather nice-looking man with a multitude of injuries. Eyebrows raised with curiosity, Rachel looked around cautiously before closing the door behind her. While she went to the sink to wash her hands and grab a pair of gloves, she looked at the man. “I’m Doctor Rachel Hawkins,” she said, introducing herself. She smiled slightly at him as she walked towards him, pulling the second glove on. “And what exactly happened, may I ask?”

[Michael Dawson]

Oh.

"Well dear, what happened is MG, or micro-glycerin. A fun little compound that will royally mess you up; Exhibit A," Michael said, holding his arms out. There were lacerations all the way up and down his forearms, though the MG had for the most part cauterized the wound and there was minimal blood escaping the wound, though the bruising and swelling looked nasty. His cheek wasn't fairing as well, bleeding a little more than was healthy, and then there was the matter of the bullet hole in his shoulder... the bullet had gone clean through, he could feel that.

"Can ya fix me Doc?" It hurt like hell, but it was nothing Michael hadn't been through before.... Which definitely sucked. People really shouldn't have to deal with this shit, especially not on a daily basis as it seemed to be for Michael... Then again, fighting was his choice.

[Rachel Hawkins]

Micro-glycerin – just fantastic. Rachel hadn’t seen the stuff since she was here, but had encountered it when she was planet-side from time to time. It was a compound that was frequently used in those underground fighting groups. If that was all he had been involved in, then it would be no problem keeping his injuries to herself. Fortunately, the hospital had all sorts of ‘problem’ patients coming in lately, so the higher-ups were beginning to develop a better sense of ignoring issues. There was enough resistance to the Alliance in the hospital anyway, so that also helped.

Rachel reached out with gloved hands, gently grabbing his hand with one hand and his upper arm with her other hand. “I’ll see what I can do,” she said with a hint of a smile. She turned one arm over tenderly, then went for the other, giving them both a look of scrutiny. She nodded down towards them, but glanced at the shot on his shoulder – which was quite covered with blood and didn’t look good at all. She winced. “If you’ll come over to the sink,” she said, moving back so he could get up and move where indicated, “we’ll need to rinse your arms to make sure there’s no chemical left. I’ll need to work on that shoulder quickly next.”

He was certainly a special case, having such a variety of injuries at once, so she’d just have to be efficient. She flipped the faucet on the sink for the water, motioning for him to put his arms under the light flow. She reached down to the drawer at her side, pulling forth a temporary adhesive strip that would hold the wound on his face together until she could put a couple of stitches in it later. As she came closer to him – reaching up to gently pull the skin together a bit before placing the strip on his face – she gave him a look that suggested he had confidence in her. “Since I’m not exactly the type to tell,” she said in a low voice, “where exactly did you get into this little scrape?”

[Michael Dawson]

"Hey, doc, no need to be so gentle. I just got shot and beaten to hell, clearly I like it rough." A wink, a quick smile, and Michael was back on his feet and cleaning the wounds on his arms out, then his face. He wasn't going to touch his shoulder, because it was hard enough moving the damn arm, and touching it was flat out going to be a bitch.

"What happened? Well, underground fight ring. Some mobster's rules. One of his lackey's laced up with MG, and then one of the bastards shot me.... Still one the fight, in case you were curious." So Michael had a thing for brunettes! With long, sexy, wavy hair... Kinda bounced as they walked around... Micheal realized he'd drifted off a moment when the doc's face was staring right at his from not even a foot away as she applied the bandage to his face.

[Rachel Hawkins]

Rachel's face was turning beet-red - very, very quickly. She had honestly not been hit on very much in her lifetime, always having had her head in a book or medical journal since the time she made it to those 'prime dating years.' The fact that he was staring at her with such a look in his eyes made inhale sharply. This previously calm and smooth doctor was suddenly at a loss of words. Of course, she was flattered - certainly - but that didn't make it any easier to deal with. She smiled awkwardly at him as she finished putting the strip on his face, then leaned back a second.

Things were a little too close for comfort, and she backed, gesturing back towards the examination table as she tilted her head down, attempting to hide her embarrassment. Rachel cleared her throat, moving to grab some materials she’d need for the gunshot wound. “Lie down on the table, please – I’m sorry, what is your name? Horrible of me to forget to ask such a thing.” She mentally chastised herself. Some bedside manners she was having today! This man had her all flustered, and she tried to force her mind to concentrate. Numbing shot to help the pain. Alcohol and other items to clean the wound. Stitches. Right. She flipped on a movable light and started to pull it over so it would shine on his shoulder.

[Michael Dawson]

The fighter almost laughed- Almost. The inhale and the blushing were not lost on Michael, he saw them and knew more or less that he'd flattered her a little bit, and while she looked embarrassed he could tell that somewhere deep down inside, she was enjoying it.

"Michael Dawson, but you can call me Mike if you want," Michael added with a chuckle before he gingerly laid down on the table. It was hard to keep himself from falling on to the table, all the muscles required to keep him stable while lowering himself were also affected by his bullet wound. It didn't help that even chuckling hurt it as well. The chemical wounds were barely even felt; Michael's forearms had been so far beaten to hell he had assumed a long time ago that he had nerve damage there or something. Sure, he felt it, but his pain tolerance to that area was insane.

[Rachel Hawkins]

Smug – that was definitely the kind of look on his face, or so Rachel thought. It wasn’t necessarily the arrogant kind, in her mind (then again, she generally gave people the benefit of the doubt, as a doctor), but more of proud-of-himself type. It was as though he was taking pleasure from causing her that little blush and bit of discomfort. Again, not necessarily a bad thing, but something worth noticing.

Rachel moved the pad that served as the hospital’s version of a pillow behind him, hoping he didn’t hurt too much from the wounds. He seemed to not be in as much pain as should be expected of someone in his position. He said his name was Michael Dawson – or Mike – and she smiled. “Dr. Hawkins.” She paused, holding back a look of embarrassment. Had he really flustered her that much? She had already told him her name.

She brought over the materials on a little stand beside the examination table. Rachel began to care for the wound, efficiently but tenderly. To help him relax – and perhaps her too – she tried to start up an actual conversation instead of short questions that allowed for silence afterwards. “So what brings you to Initium?” she asked.

[Michael Dawson]

A twinge here, a tick there. Michael for the most part ignored the pain caused by the good doctor fiddling with the bullet hole, but damn was it tender. It took his mind off the fact that Hawkins had already given him her name, which took a moment to sink in anyway. It was better to let that slide; Making a girl blush a little bit was fine, making a girl feel stupid definitely wasn't Michael's game.

And then the bombshell question.

"You know Rachel... Can I call you Rachel? It's not really a question I'm prepared to answer. But assuming that you're my attending physician because front desk told you I work for the Archers, I believe I can trust in the fact you're a Fringer. Especially since you're treating all of this mess. So I'm gonna give it to you straight, mainly because I haven't been smart enough to think of a damn cover story."

Truth hurts.

"I'm a fugitive of the Alliance Military. I escaped from an Ally Prison frigate a couple months ago. So, to answer your question, I'm hiding. And it would've been glorious had an Alliance battleship not parked it's fatass down the road."

[Rachel Hawkins]

Things got serious around Initium quickly. Most of these Fringers took anything that involved the Alliance that way, at least. Rachel herself was also from the Fringe, so she understood. She had just never really thought of herself as being on a side. Truth be told, she supposed she’d have aligned herself with the Fringers if she had to choose. Besides, she had prided herself on her Fringe education, even as a doctor. She didn’t like the way the Alliance made everything seem so clean and neat and better, when it was really about control. Most of the time, she preferred to think of herself as a… behind the scenes type of person.

Anyway, the point was that Michael had changed from his flirty personality very quickly into a very guarded one. Rachel looked up at him for a moment, catching his eyes for a second before looking back down at her work again. She had a feeling that this underground fighting thing was the least of his worries by means of illegality. Turns out, she was right. She raised her eyebrows slightly as he confided in her, not out of condemnation or judgment as much as curiosity and interest.

“Seems that the Battleship is causing an awful lot of hurt feelings around here,” she commented dryly, gathering materials for stitches. She had managed to keep her nose out of that sort of thing. Again – behind the scenes was more her thing. “And you’re right, by the way,” she added, feeling that since he had given her some information, she owed him some in return. “I got my physician’s education out here in the Fringe. Needless to say, I’m not the most popular of doctors around here.” She smiled a bit sarcastically. “The reason they called me in here was because they know that I’m more willing to do things more… off the record, so to speak.”

[Michael Dawson]

"Well, on behalf of those that do appreciate you, thank you... And anyway, it's not hurting my feelings none, the battleship, just sitting there. The ship can do whatever it pleases, it's the crew that get me all bristly and up in arms... I'd end every single one of 'em if I could..." The last comment was soft, an after thought. Had the two not been in such close proximity to one another, Rachel probably wouldn't have understood or even heard Michael say anything.

"Anyway, you'd be my first choice, doc." Mikey threw a wink in there, just for good measure. And to make her blush. He didn't want to bog down the good conversation they had been having earlier, and the quickest way to turn it around was to get Rachel all fidgety again. Not that he enjoyed watching her twitch or anything....

[Rachel Hawkins]

Rachel smiled in response to his expressed appreciation. As a doctor, she didn’t really get to hear a word of ‘thanks’ so often, and she liked to hear it when she could. She wanted to feel like she was making a difference in other people’s lives – the patients were what always mattered to her. Her smile faded slightly as she worked on his stitches solemnly after his comment about the Allies. She wasn’t about to say anything – in agreement or disagreement – nor was she going to chastise him. She knew such a comment was dangerous enough in a public sort of place, and she wasn’t about to draw more attention to it, even if they were in a private room.

A moment later, though, the serious tone was already gone, replaced as Michael threw another wink in her direction. Without fail, she blushed once more. Rachel tried to hide a smile – failingly so – as she finished stitching up the front side of his shoulder wound. “You’re enjoying this slightly too much, Mr. Dawson.” She attempted to give him a mock-serious look, but the man was just too… too… She didn’t quite know what. “If you would flip over, please. I need to check your back side.” She blushed fiercely. “O-of your shoulder, I mean.”

[Michael Dawson]

"I am enjoying this exactly as much as I want to, and you are too," Michael said as he tried to stifle a laugh about his backside before he rolled over as best he could. A few quick grunts and a soft 'plop' of Michael releasing his overturned body onto the table he decided to go for the joke that was hanging in the air.

"Now, you know love, if you wanted my pants off all you had to do was ask." He couldn't see with his face half buried in the none-too-soft medical table, but imagined Rachel's face a lovely shade of spanked-butt-red.

[Rachel Hawkins]

Rachel’s mouth fell open, and she looked plain dumbstruck. Never in her life had someone been so forward and flirtatious towards her. Common sense told her that he was merely engaging in a harmless sort of activity, but her embarrassment was still immense. Her face had to be redder than any of the bloodstains that he had arrived with a little while ago.

The bit about his pants had really done her in. Her gloved hands shook as she started, a small little sort of squeak escaping her mouth rather than the ‘sir’ that she was going for. As soon as she realized the noise she had made, her mouth clamped shut, though her loss of composure was still apparent. Suddenly, Rachel couldn’t think of anything but how thankful she was that all his wounds only involved his upper half…

He lay on his stomach, and Rachel’s shaking hands reached down to gently touch the skin around the exit wound made by the bullet on the back of his shoulder. She breathed in and out slowly, trying to regain her poise. “I, um…” Her voice was surely several steps higher than normal, and she struggled to find words that she was supposed to speak. “I’m not entirely sure that you’re being… well, appropriate.” Sure, she was the unorthodox doctor around here, but that didn’t mean she didn’t understand the purpose of trying to follow proper order.

Not that she was entirely opposed to this Michael Dawson talking to her in such a way…

[Michael Dawson]

Michael almost felt bad. Back on his home-world, he got to play this sort of game all the time. Sometimes he used it to cheer lady-company up, other times for more... primal urges, and then like today, just for the hell of it. Because he could. He meant no harm by it but it was his personality to push when and where he could. Especially with cute doctors.

And while that wasn't to say that this doctor wasn't cute or anything, something was holding him back from taking advantage of whatever situation he had created for himself. But not even his own subconscious wished to dwell on that thought right now. The idiocy of it all was... Idiotic. Plain dumb. But he knew it wasn't going anywhere soon.

But for the mean time, Michael stifled a laugh as he felt a little heat from the squeak that he didn't even have the foggiest idea as to what poor Rachel was trying to say.

"I know love, I know. I've been off-world, without any sort of female company that wasn't pointing a gun at me, can't say I blame me right now."