Repossession Mambo: NEWHALL

[Grace Halladay]

She hadn't made eye contact with him once since they entered the ship, her eyes barely raising above his shoulders.  The dashing delinquent, a man who had charm for days and an ego for weeks beyond that was a challenge for her both on a personal professional  level and unfortunately for her those sides mixing was what caused her to fall for him in the first place.  He was constantly getting in one scrape or another made him appear on her table on multiple occasions including one infamous and life-altering one.

"This is the way it always starts with us, innit?"

The doc tried to hide the flush of embarrassment as the tawdry memories of their past opened up like a fresh wound, a wound which she wouldn't admit to herself also released some bittersweet endorphins.  However at the end of the day it was a wound she had caused by letting him in, in the first place and hastily tried to close with a lack of precision she hadn't exercised since the first time she'd sewn an actual wound shut.

"There is nothing to start with us Ami... Amorru.  I'm just a doctor doing her job.  Unfortunately for us both you find yourself on my table"  She tried to hold her tone as sterile as her instruments.

Of all of those times she saw him shirtless this was possibly the most awkward, Scratch that  Second most after the first time they and she made love.  Facing him she slid her right hand under the collar of his jacket on the left shoulder and felt around as gently as possible using the knuckles of her fingers to softly pull at the fabric around the pronounced debris lifting them apart until she was able to lower the jacket down over his shoulder.   Moving around behind him, she began to peel the jacket away from his back using a scalpel to sever loose shreds of fabric caught on the jagged edges of shrapnel.  After a an excruciating few minutes she managed to get the jacket off with minimal further damage to the piece however his shirt was another story.  Moving back to the front where she didn't have to cut around pieces of metal and stone she lifted her shears from the table and moved them to the lower hem of his shirt, hovering some would say dangerously close to his Amy parts.

She then began to slowly snip away at the fabric, until the upper hem was severed and the shirt hang in two halves over his torso.  Her hand ran up and down his torso, over his solidly formed abs and pectorals searching for any abrasions however the lack of blood was a good indication that none of the debris had penetrated enough for an exit wound.  That could be a good or bad thing depending on how it looked once she got the shirt off his back.  Her eyes may have moved closer to his a moment, the urge to thank him for what he did hanging on her but the speech died on her lips and again she scurried around behind and gripping the shirt collar again from the left side started to peel it ever so slowly away while using the same method with the scalpel to ensure the shirt didn't tug any shrapnel.  She could already see some bleeding from where Sean had picked at and rued him for it.  Grace was able to get the shirt down and let it rest around his waist as she got her first good look at the injuries.  She sighed.

"Well the good news is most of this looks superficial.  The bad news..."  She reached to the table and grabbed a bottle labeled alcohol and poured it down his back before continuing.  That likely stung.

"... I have to irrigate or the wounds can get infected.  Looks like the heated metal has fused with some of the epidermis which could be tricky to extract."  Reaching again behind her she pinched a pair of forceps and dabbed a cloth in alcohol and started pulling at the smallest bits and pieces, tracing the wounds with her fingertips to ensure no small pieces remained embedded under his skin.  This was going to take quite some time and she seemed to have a lineup of patients to get to.

"Charity baobei.  If you need a bandage there should be some in that drawer there beside you."  She indicated, her eyes moving to the bodyguard a brief moment before returning to her work, whatever his intentions were she did not trust the man, then again she didn't trust Amy and she knew him.

"You, King is it?  Let me see your back?  I'll get to you after I'm done with him."  She said with a flat tone as she plucked another piece of cement out.

[Sionnach]

Moving to Sean, Charity made to dump the packages of clothing into his arms, "Here you go. Would you be so kind as to place these with the Captain? Since you are part of organizing the mission, no?" she asked, smiling at him with fake warmth, none of it reaching her eyes as she considered the man. Her attention slid toward Octavia, "Maybe he can show you to your room? So you can unpack? A checkup wouldn't hurt, either," she told the woman before nodding pleasantly and turning to hurry after the others, heels clicking rhythmically.

Sean simply looked at the woman as if she were daft.  Sure, he wanted to ingratiate himself with the crew but he wasn't going to kiss anyone's pigu.  He did go so far as to deftly take the armload of packages and directly deposit them on the nearest jump seat in the cargo hold.  He stepped back to the "she to be named new guest" while taking out a data pad from one of the many inner pockets of his long coat. He also glanced to see if she'd taken a drink or not. Didn't want to leave her holding it if she wasn't interested.

<<Can you hear yet? Might want to have the doctor to take at look at your ears. See if there's any serious damage? Okay?>>

<<Also, what is your name please?>> he tapped out and showed to her...again from a non intrusive distance.

[Octavia Wynn]

As the arrow twirled over her knuckles and back again Octavia passively watched the growing crowd around her. The tension was palpable even though she couldn't hear the conversation. There seemed to be something going on between Charity, a man she had brought with her and the pilot. A lover's spat perhaps?

Her escort interrupted her thoughts by stepping into her line of vision and holding something out to her. She made an effort to focus on him and watch his mouth forming words.
"[zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz] ra??? [zzzzzzzzzzzzz] paper when [zzzzzzzzz] the boat, sure. [zzzzzz] help with rap up."

That..... had been a useless venture. Maybe he mumbled or had an accent. Either way she was still lost. But, in her arrowless hand she took what he offered and sniffed it. It was whiskey for certain - probably something expensive. She smelled some vague fruity notes, a strong scent of something dark like chocolate or coffee and the burn of the alcohol in her nostrils. She made a small content humming sound. "A man after my own heart," the arrow stopped it's rotation through her fingers to point up at the ceiling, "gān bēi!"

She took a sip and savored it, feeling the warmth flow from her tongue, down her throat and spread in her chest. Her ammunition began it's dance again.

She was in the midst of taking a second sip and wondering how many it would take to numb her never-ceasing brain, when she was interrupted by Charity. Her arrow changed it's direction spinning from her body outward between fingers. She could throw it now if she needed to, but she probably wouldn't need to.

The woman offloaded her bags into her new friend's arms saying something to him as she did. Charity then turned to Octavia to speak. Octavia was sure she'd have that well-to-do lilt to her voice. The same one Octavia, herself, had when she was paying attention and not letting her accent slide or intentionally code switching.

While it's true that Money likes Money, Octavia wasn't sure about her yet. Octavia couldn't look her up on the Cortex because there was no surname listed in the manifest. However if Octavia had to guess from her own life she assumed Charity came from wealthy family, not many were independently wealthy these days. She likely had the best education money could buy, expensive hobbies, etc.
When she turned to speak to Octavia, the redhead noted a familiar look of artificial warmth in the other woman's face. She'd seen it most often in the mirror.

The dark haired woman departed, following in the wake of the pilot and doctor, dragging her companion along and leaving Octavia and company staring after her.

Octavia's third sip of the whiskey brought the warmth to her fingers and toes and blossomed red in her cheeks. He was offering her something else now. She exchanged the flask for the data pad in her one free hand.
After reading, she twirled the arrow with a final flourish and sunk it back home into the quiver.

<<Can you hear yet? Might want to have the doctor to take at look at your ears. See if there's any serious damage? Okay?>>

<<Also, what is your name please?>>

She wasn't sure how his ears where fairing since he'd been as close to the blast as she, so she typed out a quick response. She said the words aloud before returning his tablet, looking for comprehension at her voice.

"I'm Octavia Wynn. I'm sorry I don't know your name either. Apologies for shouting at you earlier and thank you for the whiskey. It's quite good.
My ears are wrecked. Yours?"

[Sionnach]

"I'm Octavia Wynn. I'm sorry I don't know your name either. Apologies for shouting at you earlier and thank you for the whiskey. It's quite good.
My ears are wrecked. Yours?"

Sean returned the flask to it's home pocket with one hand and typed in his response with his thumb with the hand of the other and held it back up for Octavia's inspection.

<<My name is Sean.  My ears have been better but will be okay. It's not the first time I've been near an explosion unfortunately and there's a trick to it. You open your mouth to let the pressure equalize. It's not a cure all but it helps.  Maybe we should let the doctor take a look at you, what do you think?">>

[Amorru Reyes]

"There is nothing to start with us Ami... Amorru.  I'm just a doctor doing her job.  Unfortunately for us both you find yourself on my table."

Amorru found himself with little to say in response, a result of the day taking its toll on even his own reportedly inextinguishable stores of sass. "Unfortunate for whom?" he pondered in silence as Grace collected her tools and set about her task. Their relationship, stressed to the point of fracture as it lay, represented an exercise in symbiosis. He knew Grace loved her work. "And I figure a might bit more than she ever loved me." And for certain, Amorru's most genuine affection lie in the kind of activity that caused him to need her practiced attention. But as Grace went to work, her the sound of scalpel and sheer making an absolute wreck of the fabric he wore, House Duschane's wayward son remembered what it truly meant to be in the presence of Grace.

The tingling sensations began right under his scalp before descending down his spine. His skin became like that of a plucked goose as the synapses diring in his cerebral cortex crackled like a mouth full of pop rocks down his spine. Amorru breathed in deep, chest rising and nipples hardening as Grace's hands glided meticulously across his chest and abdomen. He exhaled, eyes fogged in ecstasy. Lost in a state of bliss, Amorru imagined himself descending deeply into a warm, foamy bubble bath - one heavy on the bubbles and light on the bath.

"Well the good news is most of this looks superficial.  The bad news..."

"Mmmmm..."

"... I have to irrigate or the wounds can get infected.  Looks like the heated metal has fused with some of the epidermis which could be tricky to extract."

"Mhmm... AH NO!"

Amorru flinched away from the alcohol's burn as it poured down his back. The wounds, superficial as Grace claimed, felt quite a bit like road burn doused in battery acid - or at least something Amorru imagined that might feel like. He sneered at the doctor with an inaudible hiss. In turn, she deflected his emotional response like no other person in the Verse.

"Charity baobei.  If you need a bandage there should be some in that drawer there beside you."

Craning his neck around, Amorru leered as Lady Charity and the walking embodiment of a misnomer of an escort the rake found as desirable as something he recently scraped from the soles of his boots entered the infirmary.

"You, King is it?  Let me see your back?  I'll get to you after I'm done with him." 

"My, my. First the favor of the Duchess and soon the personal attention of Our Lady Grace. Figure you'll acquire a taste for even my table scraps if you hang around long enough, old son."

[Charity]

"Charity baobei. If you need a bandage there should be some in that drawer there beside you," Grace told her helpfully. Charity beamed brightly at her friend and made a mental note to get her something nice to snack on while they played dress up later. Her brows furrowed and she recalled the cinnamon buns and boring pasty loops Amy had been carrying before and wasn't carrying now. A mournful sigh lifted and lowered her shoulders, but she figured there would be enough sweets at the wedding to satisfy her craving. In any case, treats or no treats, Charity gently set a warm kiss against the doctor's cheek before turning to move to the drawer. Thickly lashed eyes rose to once again stare thoughtfully at King, and her cherry lips curved upward a little at him, offering him her thanks in keeping quiet about certain things.

With one glimmering, jewel encrusted hand, Charity brushed back a dark curl and tucked it behind a curved ear, the other hand pulling open the drawer carefully, as though mildly worried its contents might come spilling out without warning. She supposed the explosion did rattle her, then. "Oh! My handkerchief!" she exclaimed, a little surprised as she plucked a dainty white square of fabric from the drawer, her gilded initials embroidered on one corner in shimmering gold thread. She had several more like it in her room, each one hand made especially for her, nut this one seemed a little older than the others. "I don't remember dropping this," she murmured softly to herself, holding it in both hands, the pad of her thumbs running over the CV in the corner. "Thank you for picking it up, Grace," she thanked, shutting the drawer with her hip and using it to wipe at any dirt on her face, looking into the reflective metal to gauge how much she needed a bath.

"My, my. First the favor of the Duchess and soon the personal attention of Our Lady Grace. Figure you'll acquire a taste for even my table scraps if you hang around long enough, old son," Amy sassed.

With a horrified gasp, Charity turned on her heel, "Amy!" she said, the hand holding her handkerchief pressed against her heart. "You shouldn't actively try to be so vile all the time, you're much more pleasant when you..." she waved the handkerchief at him in a circular, encompassing gesture. "...don't do the things that you do," she continued with a pout and a frown. Shaking her head, Charity moved to stand next to Grace, giving King more room to prepare to be looked over. She watched him, looking at ease with his presence to those around her, although inside she was very much not looking forward to the 'talk' they would have to have later. "Really, Amorru," she continued, "And you couldn't even bring back the pastries," she murmured, only half joking, if the glimmer in her eyes was any indication.

[Akhsar King]

King leaned against the door frame as the Doc worked on the pilot. By the time he got there it seemed he had missed the beginning of their conversation. Though as the Doc did her thing it became quiet obvious that the Mr. Ru was taking a bit more enjoyment from it than King would expect of a normal person. At least right up until the Doc poured alcohol over the mans wounds, eliciting a yelp and a hiss. In spite of himself, Kings amiable smile showed a hint of amusement.

"Charity baobei.  If you need a bandage there should be some in that drawer there beside you." G indicated, her eyes moving shifting to King for a brief moment before returning to her work.

"You, King is it?  Let me see your back?  I'll get to you after I'm done with him."

King shrugged off his pack and set it in the corner by the door. He was about to reply when Ru spoke up.

"My, my. First the favor of the Duchess and soon the personal attention of Our Lady Grace. Figure you'll acquire a taste for even my table scraps if you hang around long enough, old son."

King blinked a little astonishedly, and couldn't help but chuckle.

"Amy!" Cherry said, the hand holding her handkerchief pressed against her heart. "You shouldn't actively try to be so vile all the time, you're much more pleasant when you... don't do the things that you do," Shaking her head, she moved to stand next to the Doc, giving King more room to prepare to be looked over. King felt her eyes on him. "Really, Amorru," Cherry continued, "And you couldn't even bring back the pastries,"

"Ah, so he's always this friendly then?" He said to Cherry and Gray, removing his scarf and carefully reaching back to check each of his wounds and make sure there wasn't anything actually stuck in them. "And sure thing Doc. Take your time though, the debris was a fair bit heavier over where you and Ru were. I've had worse." A statement that was confirmed as he gently pulled off his shirt, revealing a small but impressive collection of scars scattered across his torso and back.

[Octavia Wynn]

<<My name is Sean.  My ears have been better but will be okay. It's not the first time I've been near an explosion unfortunately and there's a trick to it. You open your mouth to let the pressure equalize. It's not a cure all but it helps.  Maybe we should let the doctor take a look at you, what do you think?">>

Octavia tried his suggestion. She felt the pressure in her ears equalize. She grinned like a maniac at the release but it soon slid from her face leaving her sour looking. The buzzing and fullness was gone but no ambient sound had returned. She did her snapping test again on both sides. She thought she might could hear some small, sharp sound. Of course she could also just be remembering what a snap sounded like.

"The doctor. Yes. Shall I leave my things here or...? "
She gestured at the table where Sean had thrown the bags. Though Alice would have told her to hang the dress up immediately, she had no qualms draping it over a chair if need be.
"And a word with your bartender, as well. Another fine quality drink like that might not be might not be what the doctor orders but it is what I'm ordering."

[Sionnach]

"The doctor. Yes. Shall I leave my things here or...? "
She gestured at the table where Sean had thrown the bags. Though Alice would have told her to hang the dress up immediately, she had no qualms draping it over a chair if need be.
"And a word with your bartender, as well. Another fine quality drink like that might not be might not be what the doctor orders but it is what I'm ordering."

Sean winced apologetically, and typed again.

<<Unfortunately the mouth opening thing works the best DURING the explosion.  Come on and bring the dress to the doctor's. We'll find out where your bunk is and you can put it there when you're fixed up.  I'll bring you a different container of this fine Redbreast whiskey to the galley if you like.>>

He inclined his head like a wee git but he was currently in charge of making sure she was alright so he'd do the dance and all. Still she was forced to follow him since he couldn't let her go ahead and get directions. At least he knew where the infirmary was on this boat.

[Grace Halladay]

Grace wasn't really attracted to other women but she felt her blood slightly hue her cheeks when Charity planted her lips on them briefly and she felt the corner of her lip raise just a little as she plucked one of the last few pieces out of the pilots protrusion peppered bac.k

The normally steady-handed sawbones nearly stabbed her patient as Charity indicated the handkerchief to be hers.  She didn't need to look up to know what she was talking about, that handkerchief she had carried for all those years after her humiliation at the hands of the high society she had once been a part of.  She kept it as a reminder of the cruelty and arrogance of the higher class, so that she may never forget what they did to her family.  She felt her hand begin to shake again as it had when she first entered the infirmary and pulled away from Amy, wiping her bloody hands on a rag to hide the fact that she was really trying to stop them from shaking.  Dropping the rag uncharacteristically on her sterile tray she took up the forceps and clamped them around the largest and last remaining piece of visible debris before yanking it out with a little more zest than necessary, causing Amorru to flinch involuntarily.

"You'll live."  She hissed with a tone more sterile than her tool tray was and tossed the piece of metal into a separate tray that now housed the rest of the debris.  Grabbing a needle and thread she set about sewing that last hole shut, the rest of his wounds wouldn't need stitches but a dermal mend might ease some of his pain.  After finishing her work with the needle she moved to the sink and washed her hands then reached for the dermal mender.  Moving behind Amorru a third time she pulled open a drawer and tossed the device in.

"You're done."  She spoke first to Amy.

"My, my. First the favor of the Duchess and soon the personal attention of Our Lady Grace. Figure you'll acquire a taste for even my table scraps if you hang around long enough, old son."

Grace barely registered the likely implication that she was Amorru's table scraps she was so rattled.  Ancient grudge breaking new mutiny inside her, a woman she thought of now as a friend had been a part of the crowd who'd shamed her.  It took all her strength to force her rosy cheeks from spreading to the rest of her face.  Even as the woman took up her defense against Amorru's crude yet expected behaviour.

"Ah, so he's always this friendly then?" He said to Cherry and Gray, removing his scarf and carefully reaching back to check each of his wounds and make sure there wasn't anything actually stuck in them. "And sure thing Doc. Take your time though, the debris was a fair bit heavier over where you and Ru were. I've had worse."

"It's your turn.  She spoke shortly now to King as she, despite her personal turmoil, picked up the bloody cloth and placed it in a sanitary bag to wash later before grabbing a second pair of forceps and brought them to the sink to re-sanitize.  She then inspected his well-endowed torso and was relieved at least that he had acquired less strenuous wounds and began to work on them.  She was more careful with her usage of alcohol this time, using the dabbing method as she picked at him.  She heard foot steps from outside the infirmary figuring soon they would be joined by the woman and Sean.

[RUNE]

Approximately six hours later, the spaceport remained on lockdown as the sun faded above Heraklion. Grace finished her medical duties and the crew went about their duties as normal. The tension rose as the absences of Jax, Jo, Abi, and Emit caused varying degrees of concern. Charity took King to tour the ship's layout as Sean helped Octavia settle in. Artemis checked the ignition systems and fuel levels while Grace set about cleaning the infirmary. For his part, Amorru took refuge in the bridge and was threading one of the tattered remnants of his smoking jacket through the eye of a small, hooked blade for future storage when a wave came over the communications system.

"Does Missus Finnegan's baby boy care to bless the bridge with his presence? Got a wave coming in here: figure the Moda Tong's come calling for their wayward puppy."

Exit to The Repossession Mambo: Wedding Crashers!