Checkup (Day 3 - Late Afternoon)

Bolak ran a silver coin between his fingers as he made his way through the belly of the Veil towards the infirmary. The soft hum of the ship was a familiar and soothing sound. Every ship had its own voice, its own peculiar cadence. A slight smile touched Bolaks lips as he listened to this Firefly sing. Flipping his coin he snatched it from the air and tucked it into his inner pocket as he reached out with his bandaged hand and ran it along the bulk head to better feel the vibrations of the ship. He loved being out in the black, he always had.

Arriving at the med bay door he paused. As was his habit he stood for the briefest of moments to listen. One could not pass up the opportunity to listen undisturbed and unseen, and snippets of conversation could be as golden nuggets to the right ears, but alas the room was quiet so he gave the door a sharp knock with his good hand and waited.

Take off had seen the nun renewed in her duties, oblivious to the goings on outside of the infirmary. In the wake of Serena’s emergency surgery, Lyen felt a storm cloud rolling over her. Watching a teenager come in with a GSW, and from an *accident* inside the LV, no less, was more than a little rattling. She had finished up the notes on the surgery and restocked some of the supplies required to bandage the poor girl. Now, Serena slept soundly on the treatment table, recovering from the ordeal. Lyen was watching the steady rise and fall of her breathing when a sharp knock brought her to the door.

Ly appeared to greet her audience. “Hello Mr. Bolack, what can I do for you?” she asked, a smile cheering her fraught face.

Bolak raised an eyebrow in surprise, not only was the greeting warm, she had not peered over his head looking for her visitor before noticing the shorter than usual man standing beneath her eye line. Good, a woman with presence of mind and a keen eye. Not a likely victim for a card game but probably good for a conversation. He was growing tired of Moks company, the man was so dry. He delivered his best grin and waved his bandaged hand to show it off.

“Thought I’d best get my war wound checked out.” he explained, “I have been out and about so it probably needs cleaning up and changing if it’s not too much trouble?”

“Not at all, please come in,” Lyen made room for Bolak to pass. He was just as charming as when she first met him, though under unfortunate circumstances. There hadn’t been any other fork-stabbings as of late, so perhaps her joking advice to dull the cutlery had been taken. It would make eating Marisol’s steak more frustrating, but it might save lives, knowing Haddie.

She procured cleaning solution, bandage, gauze, and scissors from the back cabinet before joining Bolak on the port side of the medbay. “How are you finding the Veil--I mean, apart from your trips to the medbay? I hope Haddie’s been less, mmm,” she paused to choose her words carefully, “accident prone.” As she spoke, the nun retrieved Bolak’s hand, examining the old bandage. Truth be told, Dorian had recommended the bonder be used on his hand, so there shouldn’t have been worry of an infection, but it didn’t hurt to be cautious.

The infirmary door opened, admitting the Doc. “Had a convers…..Oh...Mistah Bolak,” Dorian greeted the miniscule passenger. “How yah keepin’ suh?”

Bolak gave a polite nod, “I am well taken care of here.” he greeted the Doctor, “I was just about to enquire after the wellbeing of young Haddie. Last I saw her she was head to toe in condiments and in serious need of a bath. I suspect given my,” he gave a nod towards his hand, “brief liaison with the young lady that thereby hangs a tale.”

“Sistah?” Adler smirked. “Care tah elaborate?”

“Oh that’s a question for our mechanic, so I’ll leave it squarely to her.” A wide smirk splayed itself across her face as she turned to gather the bandage scissors. “But I will say, it did include a mighty fetching sculpted mohawk.” She would never forget the criminally rogish look on Marisol’s face when she happened upon the pair of them, hair thick with mayonaise. All the while, Lyen’s petite hands set to the task of carefully removing Bolak’s bandage to reveal the site of the healing fork wound.

The medic offered a mischievous grin. “Very politic,” he observed. “Ah’m certain Miss Marisol would be happy tah regale yah with all...,” he lifted an eyebrow toward the nun…”of tha doin’s on that evenin’, In fact. yah’ll find her at tha scene of tha crime, waitin’ tables durin’ suppah.”

“In that case I will sate my curiosity over dinner.” Bolak stretched the fingers on his punctured hand satisfied that their was little damage done. “My thanks once again for the treatment, I will of course add a small percentage to my fare for the trouble you have taken.”

Lyen continued to wear her smile, remembering their condiment-fueled sparing, Marisol’s quick draw with the mustard, and the look they shared when Haddie was overtaken with a heavenly laughter. She bit her lip as she returned to Haddie’s handiwork on Bolak’s hand. The bandage was worse for wear, but the four deep wounds were healing rightly enough. Gloved hands now cleaned the uncovered skin. “Looks much better; I’d venture to say you’ll make a full recovery, Mr. Bolak,” she regarded the man with a smile that reached her eyes.

“Ah concur with mah colleague,” Adler nodded his approval. “Just keep tha wound clean, an’ yah shouldn’t have any more trouble with it.”

Lyen was happy to practice her new trade, even if it was dominated by minor bumps and bruises--or forkings--as it were. More injuries like this meant less like Serena’s. The nun stole a glance over her shoulder at the teen’s sleeping form.

Her eyes returned to find Adler’s gaze upon her. A silent understanding passed between the medics...a cementing of a partnership to face both the great, and the small challenges that came through their door.