Participants:
| Scene Title | No Credit |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Dr. Sheridan attempts to make nice with Dr. Cong, only to find that her line of credit with him has been canceled. |
| Date | June 1, 2010 |
//Formerly known as Staten Island University Hospital, this facility is a two-campus, 785-bed former teaching hospital. Now the sprawling campus is patrolled by members of the Stillwater Solutions Private Military Company in accordance with their arrangements with the United States Government. The facility itself had been abandoned since the 2006 nuclear explosion on Manhattan when residents of the hospital along with staff were evacuated off of Staten Island. Today the hospital stands as renovated and fully operational, patched back in to the local power grid and ready for use. The many buildings of the Hospital campus are understaffed with only a handful of the actual buildings on the two campuses open and operational.
Access to the hospital is restricted to government personnel and the razorwire fencing surrounding the hospital has large signs warning that tresspassers into the hospital will be potentially met with lethal force. With violent crime as rampant as it is on Staten Island, warnings like this in government controlled areas are not surprising.//
Bella made a serious mistake.
Since the revelation of the Evo-Flu's source, and its linking her own work to that of a Nazi scientist, Bella has been… not edgy, but maybe a little reckless. Her relations with Bao-Wei were maintained through a strict mediation of collegial interaction. She fucked it up rather badly, though, by poking fun where Bao-Wei saw no fun to poke at. A colossal failure on the part of a woman who is supposed to be able to handle people.
And now she must go, hat in hand, to Dr. Cong, and try to set things right. Bella's fear of danger to her person is usually limited to her time outside of work. Looks like she can't be at peace anytime. The lab-coated redhead follows the directions of the hospital staff, until she finds the lab he is working in. Bella moves past the doorway and closes the door behind her, announcing herself to him clearly and formally. "Dr. Cong."
The very last thing that he wanted to hear creeping up on him. One of them, in any case. Bao-Wei Cong is in this particular lab with one other person- a technician in the far corner studying his microscopes and making notes, leaving Doctor Cong to make his own notes on one of the hospital laptops. He does not look up over the top of the screen, white rectangles reflected in the panes of his glasses, eyes on the text and fingers nimble on keys.
"What is it? I am quite busy." It would be a bark if he had not been in such a zen state of data input. The tech in the corner turns his head towards Bella as she enters, giving her a curious squint before reluctantly going back to his work.
Dammit. There is someone else there. She had hoped Dr. Cong would be in one of his not-unsolitary moods. But lower ranking staff learn to retract their presences as necessary, and not even Bao-Wei can do everything. Though… "I would like a word. A matter of some importance," she glances at the technician, her gaze not quite imperious, but close, "I'd appreciate privacy."
The labrat looks momentarily puzzled, opening his mouth to speak only to be cut off by Doctor Cong halfway across the room. "I need him to finish that work within the hour, Sheridan. I need his outline to continue with the theory I brought up some time ago. We will be getting a subject or two in time, so for now his work is all that I will have to ask for redirection of budget."
The Chinaman does this without so much as batting an eye, offering up some complex and wordy explanation in some hope that just maybe she will give up and leave him alone.
Bella hears Bao-Wei, and even if he is telling the truth, and even if she knows it, she doesn't believe him for a second. So that's how he wants to play it? Fine. Dr. Sheridan moves over towards Bao-Wei, giving the tech head a quick, apologetic smile on the way, making nice, before stepping up behind Dr. Cong, positioned as if examining his work.
"I see," she says, not really looking at much of anything, "You theoretical work is of primary importance, of course. I must doubly recognize that, considering the… woeful failure of my own recent approaches and perspectives." Hint, hint.
Though the tech keeps one eye on his work, half of his attention is on this bizarre exchange between his superiors. It is like watching the Discovery Channel. Cong turns his eyes up, finally, a venomous look moving over his shoulder at Bella. It immediately warps into a suspicious look, as he glances over towards the lab tech and back.
"Failures of which you are lucky to not have been terminated for." Ouch.
Not in front of the kids! Bella came here in a mood of practical contrition, driven by a certain disappointment in herself. The latter threatens to wither under the heat of her indignation, but she smothers that flame in the interests of the former. She needs to do her /work/, here, where she has work to do. She swallows her pride, keeping it from rising up further in her throat and choking her.
"And the tolerance of my more experienced peers is appreciated. I am from a different disciplinary path, and prone to treat with levity what should be taken seriously. It's a mistake made with a reason, but a reason is not an excuse. I only hope that I have the chance to correct this error in my experiential lens, which is as of yet still imperfectly ground."
Oddly enough, he considers her at length while she shoots back at him with that mouthful. The tech, at this point, is sitting on the other side of the room looking like someone was fingerpainting on the wall behind the two doctors. What- in the hell? For a while, Doctor Cong looks like he may be the one to choke her, and not her pride. He does realize that her pride is possibly second to his own, and this must be doing a number on it.
"Time will tell if your error can be corrected. It relies mainly on your personal willingness to do what it takes to do so. You have much to accomplish, yet." In other words, she is probably going to have to earn his forgiveness. Not ask for it.
If he actually attacked her, having the technician present might just save her life. Until that point, the unwilling eavesdropper is just a pain in the ass. Contrition sounds that much more yellow bellied when it's unspecific, and stern reprimand that much more humiliating, since it's generalized. But this is Bella's cross to bear - she effed up. So it goes.
"There is nothing like a forceful reminder of one's limitations to give one a sense of what one must overcome," Bella answers, diplomatically, "I am glad, at least, that I presume too much and fail, rather than presume too little, and never bother to achieve anything." Just to give herself a little credit.
It would not so much be the technician to help her, but the fact workplace violence is frowned upon. "There is always the option of presuming nothing at all, and avoiding the issue of reminders altogether." Cong narrows his eyes over at her, turning his head back towards the computer.
"Do not fluff a mistake by attempting to reason your making it in the first place. Accept that you were wrong and move on. Simple." No credit. Not a little.
There's no winning, is there? This… is hard. Bella recognizes the stupidity of her hang up, is even able to recognize its source. An only child, daddy's little angel, a star pupil. She has gone throughout her whole life getting patted on the head, praised, recognized. This simple and curt dismissal - it fails to compute, emotionally. Of course, one could be worse off than the golden child who finally fucked up. One could, for example, be fused with one's own fraternal twin. Just, like, hypothetically.
"Just so," Bella says, her jaw a little tight, "Then I will proceed with that in mind." Another
situation she can't talk her way out of. Infuriating.
"You do that."
Doctor Cong really wants nothing to do with her apology- he may eventually accept some form of her regret- but not today. Today, he is working. Today, he has better things to supposedly be doing than fielding a young woman's himming and hawing. She is free, however, to attempt to stitch up her own image; right now, Bao-Wei does see her as that spoilt girl- and frankly, he wonders why she is even here sometimes.