When the Head Doctor came onto the intercom, he did so with a bit of a grunt.

"Hmph," he said, and there was a rustling of clothing, as if he was adjusting his tie. "I can never seem to get this paperwork finished–"

There was the sound of an office chair swiveling.

"Nurse Lydia, do you think you could help me with–"

"No."

The Head Doctor seemed to pause as if taken aback. When he next spoke, he even sounded a little angry despite his usual daytime demeanor.

"Lydia, last time I checked, you took orders from–"

"Dr. Landel," Lydia said levelly, "I can't help you at this moment because your microphone is on."

There was a long, awkward pause before the Head Doctor let out a high laugh.

"So it is!" he exclaimed, his voice becoming convincingly jovial in a matter of seconds. The sound of Nurse Lydia sighing could be heard faintly in the background. "Well, good afternoon, everyone! I hope everyone is having a nice lunch, and now, we will be separating the men and women into different groups again; women will be heading out to the Rec Field while men will be doing activities in the Greenhouse. This next shift will also be our last set of therapy sessions for the week, so make the very most of it!

"I believe that's all," he continued, seeming to be in a very big hurry to end his embarrassing announcement. "So long!"

The intercom clicked.




...Then it clicked again. And again.

"...Lydia, I think there's something wrong–"

Another sigh. "What now?"

"The speakers won't–"

The sound from the office suddenly went muffled, as if someone had clamped their hound down on the microphone. Unfortunately for the Head Doctor, however, the voices were still more-or-less audible.

"–won't turn off. It's stuck in the down position."

A long pause.

"I've told you the wiring in your office should be checked, Sir, but you always say you're too busy with paperwork."

"I am! It's not like I've got Doyle around to help me anymore – could you please just call tech support?"

Nurse Lydia took in a deep breath.

"Yes, Sir." There was a faint sound of heels clicking against the floor. "But first, you might want to disconnect the–"

The intercom went silent.

Well, that was... special. No wonder he was losing respect for this place--the fearful Martin Landel was coming undone, most probably with boredom. So scary. Even Nursey seemed a little exasperated, though that most likely had more to do with X's constant insistence to stay in the Sun Room rather than go inside the Greenhouse.

He did, after all, have business to attend to (and plants just annoyed him, though that was besides the point).

He took a seat on a particularly comfortable looking couch, keeeping an eye out for any signs of- Ah, there was Tyche! Luxord plucked her from the floor and placed her on his lap, smiling at the little ball of black fluff as she played with his fingers. It felt like so long since he'd last seen her!

[For Grell and Jason, I think?]

This morning's session with Miss Waterhouse had been a risky one, but Makiko still felt what she'd gained had outweighed the risks. It did mean, however, that she'd need to be even more cautious for a time, no matter how tempting today's patients might end up being (if they were, which she currently doubted - they were both men, after all). It wouldn't do to bring suspicion on herself when she'd only just started here, and hadn't had the time yet to establish herself.

She retrieved this afternoon's patient files from the drawer where she'd put them earlier and frowned slightly. Two of them. In one session. Most irritating, that she'd have to rush them, but at the same time it would hopefully prevent her from getting bored with one before the other arrived.

The first one should be arriving soon, though. She arranged the pair of files in the center of her desk, almost unconsciously aligning them parallel with the edge, and reached over to turn on the CD player. Whichever one was first, she was ready for him. Soon enough today's sessions would be over, and she could begin to prepare for next week.

Most days, fish and chips (and a cold beer or three) was pretty goddamned high on S.T.'s list of perfect expense-account lunches. Today, the idea of picking at greasy hunks of unidentified bottom-feeder odds-and-ends (politely known as scrod, to the delight of teenagers all across the Northeast) didn't appeal.

He begged off and collapsed into his bed, after using his damp shirt as an excuse to surreptiously check the contents of his closet. Bingo. His nurse watched his little show, unimpressed but (more importantly) unsuspicious. Not that his hairy chest was much of a catch today, pale and sweating from fever. At least she didn't tuck him in.

The intercom woke up up right on schedule, and pulling the sheets back over his head almost won. But a handful of unanswered missives and a vague sense of duty dragged him out to the bulletin, and from there it was easier to stagger over to the greenhouse.

It was warm inside -- a deep, humid warmth that actually penetrated to the aches in more joints and muscles than he could remember the names of. Like a sauna, without the hassle of finding someplace to look that wasn't a mound of pasty middle-management cellulite. Or a sweat lodge, without the opposite hassle of being conscious that he was the only white guy in the room. In fact, besides the nurses in holding patterns, he was the only person in the room.

He located a tray of tomato seedlings going rootbound in their tiny six-packs, and a potting bench whose location was a quick-and-dirty approximation of equidistantly far from anything blooming. He assured his nurse he knew what he was doing, and after a couple of successful repottings, gently sliding the little seedlings out and loosening the tangled roots, she seemed to agree and backed off. It was, by far, the most fucking theraputic thing he'd found in this hellhole so far, and he let himself sink into the rhythm of the task.

[Free!]

It was good to get outside; the Sun Room was nice, but Hokuto missed really being outdoors. She was restless, wanting to do something to shake off all the excess energy she had, but that would have to wait.

Finding a place to sit near the doors, she watched the people coming through them. This wasn't going to be fun for either of them, but she needed to talk to Momo.

[Fukutaichou!]

Well well... it seemed like Professor Washu had only two more patients to go for this week's assignments. Just two more, and normally, Washu would be happy with that; meant she could go back to her home and her lab, and get some useful productive work done. But on the other hand, the fact that there wasn't any such productive work to be done here goaded the wild-haired doctor. She should have been solving all sorts of problems by now, and yet the stubborn little patients refused to be treated!

Not that this would stop the professor, of course. It just meant that, starting next week, she'd have to take more... drastic measures.

Oh, she could hardly restrain a really good cackle at the thought~!

Mohinder wasn't looking forward to this last shift - not after his earlier one. What was it about this place? Why were there patients here claiming to be people he knew that clearly weren't? He was here for a reason, surely. He had to figure this out.

For now, he had this lat round to deal with. He could only hope it didn't involve more unfamiliar faces that claimed otherwise. That would be all too much to deal with in one day. After this shift was over, he might have to tuck in early. A place like this wore on you.