gotgreenmagic | 31

Entry tags:

31 - voice

So let me make sure I've got this absolutely clear and nailed down in my mind:

Is this wreck supposed to make me better or just crush my spirit?

...

Whatever. I'm done.

[Private - McCoy]

Kirk told me it was your birthday. Many happy returns, I guess.

[Private - Angel]

So do I get my Infirmary shift back or am I fired or what?

[Private - Martha]

I now it's not like I could sue or anything, but you've still got that doctor-patient confidentiality thing going, right?

[Private - Mozenrath]

How are -

How are you -

...I know, sport. What you said. Good as never happened.

[Private - Rayne/Dean]

[You both get three seconds of dead air which is Shego thinking 'is this a good idea? No, probably not' and then switching off the mic.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Yeah, I'm ready." McCoy answered, taking one last sweep of the room before walking over to the door. "The pub or my cabin?" He asked, stepping through the door way ad glancing back at her for her response.

She considered. The pub carried with it the threat of other people being present and possibly wanting to talk, to either of them.

"Your place," she said, following him out of the ward. "Why not. Never actually seen your cabin, is it just the room from your ship or what?"

"Yeah, same room as back on the Enterprise. Damned surreal if you ask me." McCoy answered, walking down the hall. His room was only a few doors down from the Infirmary, both a good and bad thing in his book. He was glad Shego chose it rather than the pub, he figured she didn't want to be too social and he didn't either at the moment.

"Jim may stop by if he isn't there already. Never know with him." He warned, stopping at the door and punching in his clearance. Jim wasn't there, just the metal room, mostly barren besides a handful of personal touches from back home. He gestured for Shego to enter.

"You wanna talk surreal? My room is the one I had back in my boss' lair and it still looks like it's been dug out of a mountain. Solid rock walls. It's messed up."

Shego slipped into the room after him, not exactly repelled by the idea of Jimmy being around but pleased that he wasn't nonetheless. The door closed behind her as she looked around.

"This is...cheery."

"A mountain lair?" McCoy asked with a raised brow, closing the door and heading to his desk with a snort. "Yeah yeah, you try furnishing when your ex leaves you with the clothes on your back and your bones so generously."

He pulled out two glasses. "Bourbon or Saurian Brandy?" He asked, turning to glance at her.

Edited 2010-01-26 06:50 (UTC)

"Yeah, a mountain lair. Laugh it up, hot shot."

The offer of drinks got him a raised eyebrow of his own. "Bourbon," she said, her expression indicating that she had no idea what a Saurian was or what their brandy was liable to taste like. Not that she knew how normal brandy tasted, either.

McCoy's lips quirked slightly as he poured her drink, handing it over a moment later. "What was it, this boss of yours wanted to take over the world?" He asked as he poured himself a glass. "And what happens if he did manage it?"

"Thanks."

She peered into the glass for a moment, then took a slow considered sip. "I don't know. I don't even know if he knew. The one time he ever came even remotely close to doing it, I was in such a state of shock I didn't actually think to ask."

"He actually came close?" McCoy asked, brow quirking again as he took a seat on his bed. For a moment he wondered where the hell Spock Jr was- great, there was a disaster waiting to happen. He pushed the thought aside with a drink from his glass.

"Yeah, right before I showed up here," Shego said, because 'showed up here' rolled off the tongue easier than 'was murdered'. She sat down on the chair at his desk.

"Stole the plans for this thing, the Hephaestus Project - self-replicating nanotech. Seeded millions of robots across the world in teeny-tiny versions that would get really big and really mean at the push of a button. And these things were - I mean, nothing was gonna stand up to them. We were so close."

"And the end of the story is that red head stopping your plans." McCoy guessed. If they had mountain lairs and world domination plans that sounded like the end of the story- hero swooping in to save the day.

Shego made a pained noise.

"Okay. Doctor D was smart occasionally, but he was sooo psyched about this foolproof plan that he would not tell me, like, even the slightest tiny detail. And if he had, I would have told him that hanging all his hopes and dreams on the functionality of a single centralized command tower is the dumbest idea I'd ever heard."

She dragged a hand across her face. "So, yeah. Possible swooped in and saved the day."

"Why do you work for this guy again?" McCoy asked, taking another drink. He sincerely hoped the D didn't stand for 'Doom,' he wasn't sure he could handle taking that as a serious force in Shego's life. Ignorance was bliss, he decided.

"He paid the best. And he was the most tolerable option, if you can believe that." She finished off her drink without really thinking about it. "And...he was the first guy who hired me after I switched sides. I guess working for him was kinda habit-forming. It got easy to just stick around."

"Loyalty?" McCoy offered, brow raising again. He raised the bottle to her in a silent question. "Hell, I'm surprised you didn't just go into business yourself."

Shego pulled a face at the idea of loyalty being pinned to something that was more like inertia, but she nodded and held out her glass. "Into business doing what? Taking over the world? I didn't really care so much if the world got taken over. It just happened to be what everybody at my pay scale was into."

"I mean you don't seem like the type to take orders." McCoy explained. "Especially from a guy as dense as this 'Doctor D' of yours."

"Drakken. It's Doctor Drakken," Shego said in a mildly 'only I get to call him that' tone. "Don't even ask me what he got his PhD in. And...enh, I don't know. Running my brothers' superjerk squad? I sure as heck wasn't taking orders, but if I'd stuck with it I'd have gone gray by the time I hit thirty. Taking orders is easy. I don't have to plan ahead and it's not my fault if everything gets messed up."

Well his concerns about 'Doom' was relieved at least. "Easy huh?" McCoy finished his drink, taking the bottle to refill. Part of him could appreciate that, his life plans had ever been to become a CMO in charge of the health of over 400 people, just to live in Georgia and raise a family, be a damn old country doctor on solid ground. There was something to her philosophy.

"I know a few people who would say easy is boring." He pointed out as he refilled his glass. "Many who are young like you."

"Young like us, Mr. Not-Even-Middle-Aged." She took a sip from her recharged glass. "And people who say easy is boring are overambitious jerks like Jimmy, who I have no immediate plans to use as a role model."

"Thirty two, Miss mid twenties." McCoy answered right back. "I'd have to agree- but there is something in fulfillment an 'easy' life doesn't exactly touch." He said, taking another drink.

Shego almost flinched, because she knew that - or rather, she had known that. She had been totally, obnoxiously satisfied with her life. Even when she'd washed up on the Barge, even when she'd been sliced up or beaten because she wouldn't hurt the people around her, she had been...well...happy.

Kinda.

She glared into her glass for a second. "So are you more fulfilled by the whole doctoring-a-spaceship thing?"

"Yes." McCoy answered without a pause, because god knew it was true. They did a lot of good, helped a lot of people, hell, a lot of entire populations with just the medicine he and his team practiced or taught. The idea of it was probably one of the only reasons he managed to step on that shuttle four years ago. "Out there, sometimes even here. Enjoyment is another thing." He said with a huff.

"And by the way you're glaring over there I'd say I hit a nerve." McCoy, the picture of tact, pointed out.

"Bite me," Shego said, serviceably tactful herself. "Whatever fulfilment you claim I might've missed out on by taking the easy options, I got back in not spending half my life in mortal peril. I'm a pragmatist, okay? I am perfectly fine with missing out on the highs if I get to skip the lows."

"From the sound of your work I wouldn't say you're much better off." McCoy answered, leaning back. "You're here, aren't you? And even if 'mortal peril' isn't the name of the game prison is always an option."

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