Night 52: West Wing, North Hall 2-B

[hes-deadjim.livejournal.com]

[from here]

McCoy was starting to to feel like an old hat at busting down doors with Spock, because this time he was ready for the door giving way suddenly. He didn't stumble nearly as far this time, recovering quickly.

He turned to Spock. "No, but acting as a battering ram wasn't in my job description." Sometimes he didn't get Spock. In what universe did science department equal having to brute force doors down on a nightly basis? He was pretty sure it wasn't back home. That thing was more for security, and if you were to take Jim as an example of his section (not a good idea, in this case), and the fact that he'd seen that man get into twice as many scrapes as security, then it also went for command.

"Now where is this?" he dug out the map, checking it over. It looked like the morgue was close by, as well as the autopsy rooms.

Comments

[dual-worlds.livejournal.com]

Just as before, the door opened on their second try. Spock caught himself and smoothly lifted his items from the floor before proceeding into the next area. McCoy apparently felt the need to voice his dissatisfaction with opening the doors. This was not necessarily unexpected, though Spock saw little use for it.

"That may be so; however, serving on board the Enterprise currently is," the Vulcan pointedly reminded him. "If acting as a 'battering ram' will help us find ways to return you to your original reality, then complaining about it is counterproductive."

He didn't find such methods pleasant, either. But seeing as it was the only way to navigate some portions of the building, Spock didn't bother thinking over whether a chief science officer was above such things. The doors needed to be opened, and that was that.

As for where the morgue and other similar facilities were, Spock allowed McCoy to consult his materials, though he did not look over his shoulder. Instead, he kept a sharp eye on their surroundings, his flashlight slowly moving across the walls and floor. The hallway appeared clear so far. "If the maps I saw are correct, then the morgue and autopsy rooms should be located just as ahead."

He moved toward the northwestern-most door and placed a hand on the handle. Once again, it was locked, but gave against his weight just enough to suggest that they could break this one in, too. He glanced over to McCoy, raising his eyebrows in an almost expectant way as he propped some of his possessions against the wall once more.

[hes-deadjim.livejournal.com]

Well put, logical as always since the doors weren't going to open themselves if they wished at it enough, but it was clearly Vulcan for 'shut up and stop complaining'. McCoy, of course, wasn't a Vulcan and didn't speak the language.

"It's not counterproductive if it makes me feel better," the doctor said. Griping about his job had made him feel better, and so did getting a rise out of Spock just now. His shoulders might be sore already but his spirits were starting to pick up. There really was something therapeutic about the two activities. Even more when they got combined. And he hadn't inched towards that line that got him Spock pulling rank, which meant Spock had to sit there and put up with it.

McCoy didn't know how things were exactly back on this Spock's universe, but he was willing to bet his favorite hypospray that most of the crew tended to scramble before him. Pulling Spock's leg was probably unthinkable.

He followed Spock to the next door. It jiggled in place like the earlier one. Of course, it figured. Here we go again, McCoy thought.He just gave the commander a quick nod as way of a countdown, then lunged at the door.

[dual-worlds.livejournal.com]

Spock didn't understand how complaining about their situation would make McCoy feel better. If anything, focusing on the negative aspects of their task seemed like a waste of energy, as it would not change the fact that they needed to continue using force to open doors so long as it was necessary.

Since McCoy was willing to continue on with their investigation, however, Spock did not see any reason to further comment on the matter. Instead, he prepared himself to rush at the door. Within seconds, he and McCoy were moving in unison, their shoulders colliding against the door's surface. The force was enough to cause it to rattle, but, once again, it didn't open on the first attempt.

Spock ran through another countdown. "One, two, three--" They threw themselves at the door, flinging it open in the processes.

((To here (http://community.livejournal.com/damned/996911.html).))