IC: Inbox

[consultantsdoctor]

greg.lestrade@compass.net (6) [text: sherlock] W16D4 daniel.cross@compass.net (6) [email: headaches] W16D6 sherlock.holmes@compass.net (9) [text: conan] W17D3 alayne.stone@compass.net (3 (9)) [text: visit] W18D4 zelos.wilder@compass.net (33) [text: medical] W22D2 joan.watson@compass.net (20) [text: favor] W22D4 sherlock.holmes@compass.net (5) [text: medical] W22D6 joan.watson@compass.net (4 (~)) [text: talk] W23D3 conan.edogawa@compass.net (8) [text: food] W24D1 first.last@compass.net (~) [text] W?D?

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Comments

[wont]

[ It pleases Alayne that he takes the gift, as evidenced in the way she smiles, satisfaction crinkling the corners of her eyes, forming lines that Watson has never seen before. There is proof everywhere of not only a healing body but a healing soul, so much of Alayne's previous unhappiness washed away by the sunniness of her disposition now. (There is part of her that remains to put on a brave face, covering the very faintest hairline flaws that come with lingering uncertainty and loneliness. But that effort insignificant compared the burden that had weighed her down before.) ]

Alayne, please, doctor. You needn't worry about such formalities with me. Your company is pleasant enough. [ Besides, Stone isn't so much a surname in Westeros as it is a badge of shame, a constant reminder of bastardy. She doesn't tell him this, however. (The reveal often made modern folk uncomfortable.) ] I know the ship is awash with wine, so I cannot offer something you may not have already, but—

I could not help but make the gesture. I am truly grateful. [ A beat and then Alayne's expression puckers briefly with worry. ] You do drink spirits, don't you? [ Gods above, she would be embarrassed if he didn't. ]

[consultantsdoctor]

[To see her smiling like that after all this time is brilliant. Such a sweet young woman should be able to smile in that manner more than she does. It does make him wonder if she smiled like this before coming to the ship. Though he won't ask what her life had been like. She seemed the sort to need to offer up that sort of private information of her own free will. As long as it doesn't affect her health John will let her open up at her own pace.]

You can call me John if you'd like. [He won't be offended if she doesn't.] I enjoy your company as well, Alayne.

Your gift is brilliant. [Perfect, in fact. A gift that cost someone a lot always left John feeling awkward and refusing it. But something like a child's drawing or this bottle of wine which had cost near-to-nothing always suited him better.] I do drink spirits.

[wont]

[ She breathes an obvious sigh of relief at that, her posture relaxing and her expression taking on a slightly different color. Whether or not she accepts the offer and decides to address Doctor Watson as John has yet to be seen, but the gesture in and of itself is a welcome one. It speaks to a kind of closeness, something that is not quite friendship but perhaps has the possibility to become it one day. Though some might question what a middle-aged modern man might have in common with an adolescent medieval princess, Alayne knows from experience that circumstances can sometimes forge stranger alliances than that.

The prospect makes her feel slightly giddy, albeit in a still cautious way. ] You've inspired me to look at my own talents and think upon what I might offer the ship — other than sewing, of course. Though I'm not studied in anything save needlepoint, I hoped— [ Alayne inhales, as if bracing herself for his approval. ] —I hoped I might volunteer at the clinic.

I've been told my bedside manner is quite good.