(Untitled)

[simon_doctor]

It's a hands-on lab session in class today, and Simon's been working for a few hours now without much in the way of a break. He's reached the stage of self-forgetful absorption in the work; he knows he'll be tired later, but not yet

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[walk_ins]

It might not be somebody he knows.

That's his driving thought as he walks quickly down the hall, footsteps echoing: I need to get him out without questions. This is why Jordie ducks into a lounge area, grabs somebody's white coat, and clips his ID badge from the hospital on Londinium right on the pocket. Good enough.

And -- there. Two quick raps on the lab door, and Jordie pokes his head in. Simon's on the other side of the room with his hands on a microscope. To the instructor (who isn't anyone he knows, after all): "I need to borrow Dr. Tam. It's an emergency."

[simon_doctor]

He looks up at the sound of his name, focuses on Jordie, and goes very still for an instant.

Then his hands are moving, sliding the eyepiece cover shut automatically and picking up his notes; he murmurs something to his lab partner, a middle-aged woman with short-cropped blonde hair, who nods back and says something clearly visible as of course.

Then he's hurrying to pick up his briefcase and coat, and exchanging a hurried and apologetic (on his part) few words with the instructor.

[walk_ins]

As soon as the door's shut behind them: "We need to make a quick stop and then we're going somewhere." Low, as they hurry down the hall.

Jordie peels off left to the lounge and starts working his way out of the lab coat. "Check your inbound while I put this back." Beat. "She's fine. I talked to her. There's -- she's okay."

[simon_doctor]

Simon doesn't ask who, or what. He pulls his datareader out of his briefcase, sees the two message flags up, flicks to the first one --

His heart is beating far too fast, thudding like a hammer in his chest, pulse throbbing in his temples and throat and wrists. His mind is cold, and very clear.

"You have a car here?"