Participants:
| Scene Title | Can I Smell You? |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Lawrence takes advantage of Minea's immobilization to impede on her personal space. That and introduce himself as her new partner. |
| Date | April 27, 2009 |
St. Luke's Hospital is known for its high-quality care and its contributions to medical research. Its staff place an emphasis on compassion for and sensitivity to the needs of their patients and the communities they serve. In addition to nearby Columbia University, the hospital collaborates with several community groups, churches, and programs at local high schools. The associated Roosevelt Hospital offers a special wing of rooms and suites with more amenities than the standard hospital environment; they wouldn't seem out of place in a top-rated hotel. That said, a hospital is a hospital — every corridor and room still smells faintly of antiseptic.
Morning has come and gone, breakfast, Lunch, hours of television when the drugs haven't sent her off into some comatose slumber that's devoid of pain that seems to just sink it's claws into the right side of her when it's getting time to push the little button again. There's someone parked at the door, checking badges of people going in, and a nurse is exiting after changing the dressings on the various entry points of bullets into the company agents body. Jello and pudding, both of indeterminate color and consistency, are on the table that's been wheeled to go across the bed, some old episode of tool time, Al making some caveman sound and his wife rolling her eyes at him plays on the screen pushed a fair enough distance away. Minea's not got her reading glasses, so it has to be that far away and is wrestling with the cover of the supposed chocolate pudding.
Lawrence presents his ID to the guy at the door with a supercilious air; attired in a pristine suit, he steps into Minea's room with a tentative air, like a gazelle going to a water hole lions have been around. In his hand is a pink tulip. "Miss Dahl." Pause. "Goodness, your pores are horrible."
Well, that would be because the day after getting gunned down by the evolved top most wanted doesn't leave much for keeping up with the facial cleansing routine. Eyes a slight bit too dilated for normal swivel to look from pudding cup to tall nerd. "I'll tell the to add a Arizona mud mask treatment to my next dressing change Mr…?"
"Cook," Lawrence says with a faint curving of his lips that's probably supposed to be a smile. He walks over to her bedside, glances about, and finally puts the tulip in her water cup, which nearly topples. Nearly only because he manages to catch it, but he's kind of held in limbo trying to figure out how to balance the lone flower in the cup so it doesn't topple. He didn't think that one through. "Lawrence Cook," he says, playing it like he totally meant to do that and failing. "I'm with the Company, we'll be working together. It's nice to meet you. Are you fond of wearing perfume?"
The Jello cup is abandoned to try and catch the poor Tulip, fingers grasping at the flower and touching the other mans hands. Time to save him. The hand impaled with the catheter to the IV takes the plastic cup the other lifts the Tulip. "I tend to stick to just soap and shampoo Special Agent Cook. Did you steal the flower to try and seem nice or did you honestly buy one single tulip?" Said tulip suddenly has half it's stem removed with a weak snap of it's steam and now the pink flower can sit safely in it's new home without fear of toppling. There goes her drinking cup. "Why do you ask?" Her new partner? Death wish.
Lawrence gingerly removes his hands from the cup and wipes his hands on the hem of his suit jacket. "Mmn. No. I meant to purchase more, but that was the only good one." And it's a very good tulip, well formed, good, continuous colour, no splotchy bits or anything. He glances up as one of the lights flickers overhead, a nerve under one eye twitching. "The florist was extremely exasperated with me." He digs into his jacket pocket, removing a small pill container. "I would prefer it if you didn't wear perfume. I'm a little… sensitive."
"Any other requests? I have time to listen to them while I'm in my hospital bed" It's politely spoken, even as she goes back to opening the pudding. "You would think it could have waited until I was at least out of the hospital and at my desk.. or are you an eager beaver?"
Lawrence situates himself on the edge of her bed, removing a pill from the container and suddenly realizing he has no cup to sip from. Even if the tulip wasn't in that one, it would still be all full of… stuff and other things he probably doesn't want to see. Or taste. Or feel. "Oh, good. I thought this would be the optimal time to go over a few things. For example, do you wear a lot of wool garments?"
It was a joke. But apparently… Agent Cook is lacking a sense of humor? "I can provide you with an itemized list of my wardrobe from my Walmart socks to my ferragamo silk scarves. There is likely to be some wool and wool blend items yes" Minea hits the button for a nurse, when she notices the look to the water cup and the pill in his hand. "Are you afraid of them offgassing onto you?"
Lawrence looks vaguely relieved. "You would do that? That would be excellent, thank you. Just as a precautionary measure. I don't do very well with wool. It's extremely itchy." He plucks briefly at his pant leg. No water for the pill. He could dry swallow. Instead he closes his eyes and continues on this horrible line of conversation. "This isn't the most optimal place, of course, but may I smell you?"
"May you smell/ me?" He has got to be joking. Minea looks over at him, a somewhat wary look on her face. "Did you just ask me if you can snell me?" She looks over at the little bag of opiates hanging from her IV pole to make sure that it's not suddenly empty and she's having some sort of auditory hallucination.
"Yes," Lawrence says, a bit of a resigned look crossing his features. People never react well to that one. "If I'm familiar with your smell it will be easier to follow you should the need arise."
"One of us, one of them…." Right. He was Evolved. "Enhanced smell? This is probably not the best time to smell me. I haven't had a shower yet, and I smell like hospital"
"I'd have to filter out the hospital smell, of course," Lawrence tells her solemnly. "It might be best if I'm familiar with your scent au naturel, as it were." He shifts his long legs about, shuffling his feet. "It's not enhanced smell so much as enhanced everything. One at a time. Touch, taste, hearing, smell, sight."
Smell her so he can remember her scent. "Might as well do it while i'm on drugs. But so help me, if you touch me in any inappropriate fashion, your going to be singing soprano, and don't think that becuase Adam Monroe put three bullets into me that it'll stop me"
Lawrence nods, raising his arm up at a sharp angle to examine his watch. "Thank you. One moment. Fifteen moments, really." He smiles a little. It was a joke! Eyes watching the second hand tick around on his watch, he shakes his head. "I don't intend to touch you at all if I can help it."
"Just get it over with. Nurse should be coming soon and I don't need her thinking I have two lovers" Sarcasm becomes her.
Lawrence holds up one finger. "Be patient, please." He closes his eyes and flares his nostrils, taking in the unique bouquet that is a hospital. Oh, this is gross. Disinfectant and sick people and bedpans and cafeteria food assault him. Squeezing his eyes shut, he carefully works to filter each smell out, categorize it to deal with it, and it's approximately a minute before he opens his eyes, leans very far over, and dips his head to flare his nostrils by Minea's head. Smelling her.
Minea's breath is held, well, her breath probably isn't so minty fresh right now, but she holds still, being patient for him and his ability. after a few seconds though, she's shaking, though he can't see her face.
Lawrence keeps inhaling her scent; finally, he makes a little gagging noise and rears back from her. "That will do." His eyes open; he squints and shoves the pill in his mouth, gulping it down, Adam's apple bobbing in his slender neck.
You say, "Thank god" Laughter bubbling from the woman that's soon stopped with a groan and a catch of her breath. "Didn't know I smelled so bad"
Lawrence offers a shy little smile. "You don't. No more than anyone else, I mean. Ah." He smoothes his pantleg a little. "I often have problems expressing myself. I should warn you now. I didn't mean that you smelled horrible. Anything can smell horrible if you smell it strongly. Cinnamon rolls, for example, have been ruined for me after a particularly long assignment outside a Cinnabon."
You say, "It's also the one sense that is closely and strongly tied to memory" The laughter curbed by the stab of pain. "You won't be getting an itemized list of my clothing, but I'll try to limit what wool pieces I'll be wearing. Seeing as summer is coming and I most wear the wool pieces in winter, I think you pretty safe Agent Cook. Why did you come while I was in the hospital if I can ask? And not when they released me back to my desk""
Lawrence closes his eyes and waits. Smell is not working out for him right now, so he's attempting to swap over to touch. Fifteen seconds pass, and he opens his eyes again. "I suppose I am an eager beaver? There's simply so much to do, however."
"They fill you in on what I've been doing? I apologize I'm usually more observant than I am right now. Shall we start off on a better footing?" The catheter bedecked hand is held out. "Minea Dal. Your new partner when I'm turned loose and they clear me for duty. A pleasure to meet you"
"Somewhat," Lawrence tells her. He looks at her hand. Right. Steeling himself, he reaches out to clasp it with his own. "Lawrence Cook. A pleasure to meet you as well. I hope we'll work well together."