Participants:
| Scene Title | Get Well Soon |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Having heard that Isabella is in the hospital, Nash feels obligated to pay a visit and wish her a speedy recovery. |
| Date | June 14, 2010 |
Coler-Goldwater Hospital
In the wake of the disasters that happened last Thursday, the influx of patients into the Coler-Goldwater Hospital has been incredible. On top of that, there was that incident with the blood that brought three agents and a handful of bystanders down and out. Severe anemia, the reports said. And somehow, in that packed hospital, they managed to find spots for those that fell. But there still just isn't time to deal…with Isabella.
Isa, she of the temper, she of the entitlement issues, she has been treated with as much care and patience as the hospital can spare right now. Which is frankly not much beyond the standard. After a few violent encounters with the orderlies, and other patients, and she's been, well… sedated. There's just no time to deal with her. So, morphine'd up and sprawled on her hospital bed, the petite half-Japanese woman stares hazily out the window, idly tapping a nail against the blanket.
"Well, well, well." It's like theme music or a catch phrase as stated by the cop as he darkens her doorway. Chris Nash is wearing a different suit from before: A dark charcoal grey, with black pinstripes, white dress shirt and a navy blue tie. And of course, you can't visit someone at the hospital without bringing flowers, so he carries a dozen tulips, swinging them carelessly by one arm back and forth. "It really almost looks like karma decided to rear it's ugly head and bite you right on the ass, Agent."
He steps into the room uninvited and sets the flowers down on the tray next to her bed and takes himself a seat nearby, putting his feet up and on her bed. "I heard your name come over as someone taken to this hospital and thought it might be nice if I were to come by and see how you were feeling?" YOu know, him being a gentleman and all.
That summoning of her attention gets a slow blink, and Isabella turns her head to survey who it is stepping in. Her brows knit over dark eyes and she frowns. "If it isn't Mis-ter Jerk-off," she mutters, her words slurring a little under the drug. She watches him drop the flowers and take a seat, eyes narrowing. "I'm fine. Jus' fine. What's it to you?" She turns and reaches for her glass of water by the bed to drink, before resuming that stare that fights tooth and nail to be steady but falls just short.
ORDER: It is now your pose.
Nash can't even attempt to hide the grin that forces itself upon his face. He shakes his head. "Is that any way to treat someone who's come along way to send you get well wishes?" The daggers being stared at him don't seem to affect him too much. Not as if she's in any condition to be a danger to him. He crosses one leg over the other as they rest up on her bed and he folds his hands across his stomach as he watches her. "Seriously, do you work hard to be this bitchy, or does it just come all natural for you?"
Isabella stares at him a little bit longer, trying to scrutinize him. Trying to understand him, perhaps. Or maybe just focus on him long enough to steady her brain. "'m a natural," she huffs irritably. "And I don't get why you give well wishes to me. What's yer ploy, huh?" She jabs an unsteady finger his way.
Patent leather shoes are pulled off the bed and his feet thunk onto the ground as he sits up in his chair with a shrug. "Because, for one, you owe me a new suit. For two, you're a little fiesty and I like that." He quirks his mouth into a little grin, "Seriously, don't you think you went a little overboard at the coffee shop? Here I was just trying to be nice and you had to make a scene." Because it couldn't have been Nash's fault.
"Buddy, I don' even remember what happened in the coffee shop. Lotta stuff has gone down since then. Not the least'a which landed me in the hospital. So, whatever." Isabella flops her head back on her pillow, blowing out a puff of air through her lips. "If I say sorry 'bout your suit, will you leave me alone?" She's so charming.
Nash rises to his feet and walks over to the bed and looks down at the 'poor' woman. "I'll make you a deal." He reaches over pats Isa's hand a couple of patronizing times before stepping back. "You get well. You get yourself all nice and healed up and then you and I have a conversation. If you do that, I'll leave you be in peace. Not looking for anything crazy, just a cup of coffee and maybe a new suit." Chaching. "Whaddya say? Just like old times."
She could bite him at that hand pat. That is, if she weren't drugged up, anemic, and exhausted. Isabella stares daggers at him, but apparently the prospect of getting him to leave her alone is so tempting she snaps, "Fine. Coffee, conversation, new suit. Then you back off fer good, right? I'll punch y'in the nuts if tha's not the case."
"We could always meet at the gym if it's a fight that you want. Just say the word." He turns to walk out and as he reaches the door, he turns back. "Deal." Sealing that particular agreement which he really doesn't expect her to hold to. "Seriously, you need to get some aggression out, I know just the place." Nash turns and walks out of the room, though she can hear him saying, "Fiesty. Love it." Then he's gone, leaving only the tulips as a reminder that he was here.
"Fuck you," is all Isa snaps, to his generous offer, and his calling her on her aggression. And as he leaves, she fumbles the tulips off the table and throws them in the trashcan. Or… tries, anyways. She kind of misses. But with that, she flops back on her pillow and resumes her staring out the window, in a significantly worse mood than she had been previously. Watch out, orderlies.