(Untitled)

[newkindofcop]

The last few days have consisted of a lot of construction work. Steve realizes he might be tackling more than he can handle by himself, but he doesn't want to approach anyone too early and give the secret away, especially anyone who he considers a mutual friend of his and Danny's. Especially when the secret directly involves the wedding, and

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[lexiepedia]

It's easily the place she spends most of her time. Lexie isn't quite sure when or how that got to be the case, when her circle of friends wore down and she somehow became the council rep for the clinic, but it's true even so. The way she sees it, it could be worse; at least she has someplace to go at all, to throw herself into when all else fails, even if it isn't remotely the same as a ten-hour shift at Seattle Grace. (The lack of patients probably has a lot to do with that.)

She's at the desk with some paperwork when she hears someone come in, instinctively setting down her pen and lifting her chin, smile warm rather than overly professional. "Hi, I'm Dr. Grey," she says. "What can I do for you?"

[newkindofcop]

Steve's been trying to develop an explanation on the way over, but he inevitably figures that the best way to go about this is to state everything as simply as possible, before he digs himself into too deep of a hole. Besides, he's also trying to keep the entire project secret from Danny, and he still doesn't know the half of who Danny talks to on a regular basis, or who he can trust enough to not let the details slip out.

"Construction work," he answers, holding up his injured hand, palm facing before he turns his wrist to flip it around and show the doctor his thumb. "Caught my hand with the hammer. It doesn't look too serious, and I would've taken care of it myself, but I didn't want to risk it. You know."

[lexiepedia]

Lexie winces sympathetically at the sight of his thumb, the sort of instinct she's not sure any amount of time spent in the medical profession could rid her of. There are worse injuries to be had, at least, and frankly, she's a little surprised that they don't get building crew members in here more often. (Not that she would complain, people not getting hurt is a good thing, but still, it's weird, and she can't pretend that she doesn't occasionally wish for more patients.)

Rising from her seat, she crosses to the other side of the desk so she can move closer, paperwork left ignored for the time being. "Here, come sit and I'll have a look at that," she says. "It's good you came in. Did you just do this, or has it been bothering you a while?"

[newkindofcop]

Steve frowns in thought at the sight of her wince. It's bad, he realizes, but it isn't that bad, is it? He can't help but think of those who have suffered much worse than he has, the majority of them serving overseas, and in comparison, a little bruised thumbnail is really nothing to sweat over.

"Couple hours or so?" he admits, with a small shrug. He takes a seat after her suggestion - no slouching, back straight against the chair, but his overall posture is relaxed. "Didn't think much of it, but if it's hurting for this long, I wasn't sure if I'd actually done any serious damage."