Good Boy, Good Friends, Good Food - (Day 1 Evening)

Tonight’s record keeping proved to be quite the chore. The canine surgery alone expanded to ten pages of detailed explanation, a two hour writeup for a procedure that he and the team had been forced to perform at speed. The tome ended with his latest followup. Rebel, the Bluetick hound, lay behind him on the treatment table. The dog had awakened, understandably disoriented, but he’d been able to calm the poor creature long enough to get some water into his system. A fresh dose of pain medication allowed him to sleep once more. With luck, he’d have an easy night.

David Roose’s pre-op had yielded a very fine three dimensional holographic image for Dr. Candace Miller at VCM to study. Her report came with a detailed measure and cut guide for the Cartilex artificial he’d be using to repair the old hunter’s meniscus. Dorian had already tailored the insert to it’s necessary dimensions, before dipping it into a sterilizing solution for the night.

Finally, there was Gill...an optimistic high point in a day of self doubts. Adler tacked the latest captures shot by Sister Lyen onto the daily report, with a complete set of new measurements and regrowth percentages.. “Patient has reported additional outlying growth to his musculature, and, it should be noted, certain vascularized soft tissues.” As this was a medical record, he could simply have used the term ‘penile tissue,’ but there was something in the boy’s embarrassment that struck a lost memory within. Dorian could afford a little clinical discretion.

Pressing a hand to the small of his back, the medic rose from his stool. He delivered a gentle scratch behind the ear of the sleeping Rebel. “You’re a good boy,” he whispered. “Ah shall try tah emulate.”

After sending the various reports, he settled back onto the stool to create the most challenging document...his request for remote third party psychiatric evaluation and treatment plans for Haddie. There was still precious little to go on…

“You look like you’ve had a day.” Marisol stood in the doorway, clutching two shopping bags.

“Self inflicted.” Dorian offered a warm smile. “Your timing’s perfect. Ah could use a friendly face.”

“I know what you mean,” the mechanic replied as she set her burden down. “Who is this?”

“His name is Rebel…a living testimonial tah mah ego and hubris.”

She laid a gentle hand upon the dog’s chest. “The key word being ‘living.’ He is so pretty…a Bluetick, right?” Marisol cocked an eyebrow as she stroked the dog’s fur. “Will he be alright?”

“Mmm, Ah think so,” Dorian nodded slowly. “He’ll be with us fah awhile…tha farmer who owned him couldn’t afford tha followup care…so Ah think Ah’ve just adopted a dog.”

“Look at you,” Marisol smirked. “Taking lessons from Lyen, adding ‘veterinarian’ to your resume…and falling for Riley Thorne?”

“Ah do owe yah an explanation.”

“No,” Marisol replied. “You don’t. I’ve been thinking about this all day.” She moved into the infirmary, stepping close enough to permit their voices to pass as whispers. “I’ve known you a long time,” she offered. “This is the first time I’ve ever seen you romantically tied to a woman…but you’ve been attracted to her as long as I’ve been on this boat.”

“Ah was that obvious?” He folded his arms, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Only to people with eyes,” she fixed him with a knowing smile. “She makes you happy, doesn’t she?” To his nod, she said, “Good. I never thought you’d find anyone. You had me worried.”

“Ah won’t hurt Maria,” he whispered.

Marisol laid a hand upon Dorian’s shoulder. “I know. You’re not the only one who is hoping she’ll find herself at university,” she said in a hushed voice. “You helped us out of a jam with Maria, and now we’ve both got a four year time clock to sort the rest. Believe me when I say that as your mother-in-law, at least on paper, I’d much rather see you with a woman of substance than just aimlessly chasing tail at each port of call. So…Riley,” she restored her voice. “Is it serious?”

“Ah hope so,” Dorian confided. “It’s all still so new, but…” His words halted when he found himself wrapped in Marisol’s arms.

“I’m so glad for you,” she whispered into his ear.

“Not tha response Ah expected,” he said, placing his arms around her.

She pulled back enough to look him in the eye. “You’re my best friend,” Marisol said earnestly. “I’m running short of friends just now. To see you finally grabbing a chance at happiness? It just does my heart good,” she smiled.

“Happy tah oblige,” he chuckled, glancing toward the shopping bags. “Groceries?”

“Condiments,” Marisol tilted her head with a grin. “I resupplied us after our little midnight art project. Have you eaten yet?”

“Nope.”

“Well, by this hour, the passengers have probably devoured everything,” she observed. “How about this? Come refill the ketchup and mustard squeeze bottles and I’ll cook us something?”

“That,” Adler smiled as he turned to shut down his workstation, “sounds like a fine idea.”