rude_not_ginger | RP for Dr. Chase, cause we ain't done it in a long time!

RP for Dr. Chase, cause we ain't done it in a long time!

Right, so, this was not where the Doctor had planned on spending his afternoon. A hospital? He hated hospitals! (At least this one wasn't on the moon, and he wasn't admitted, yet.)

The Krillitane had to be around here somewhere. He saw it, flitting in and out of the alleyways, before disappearing here. He didn't see its human form, so he couldn't tell where it had gone. Security gave him looks. He had to blend in, find it.

So! John Smith suddenly had stomach cramps (a catch-all illness for one who rarely got ill), and sat in line to wait for the clinic doctor. Hopefully the monster would foul up, walk wrong, and the Doctor could tell where it had gone.

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No and no. Chase checked off little boxes, hating the paperwork as he glanced up, digging out his new photo ID. "Dr. Chase," he introduced himself properly, glancing up. "Not sure this is the place for conversation," he said slowly, more than a bit amused. "Unless you go to clinics to pick up often?"

It was dry and more than a little sarcastic.

"Dr. Chase." The Doctor seemed to find that name particularly funny, probably because of how often he found himself running. He considered picking that up as an alias for a while, and stored it in the back of his mind.

At Chase's sarcasm, however, he blinked.

"Pick up...what?"

Chase was just readying the stethoscope, giving a dubious look over his shoulder. "People?" he suggested. "In want of conversation usually means you're trying to pull...never mind," he said quickly, turning and getting out the blood pressure machine. "We'll take some readings and then I'll prescribe a mild antacid."

The Doctor scratched the back of his head. "Oh, I dunno. Some people just like conversation. I'm a fan of conversation, in fact. I do enjoy a good conversation, conversation's...good. Very good."

His eyes narrowed at the security guard outside the window. Refusing a donut? Was he on a meat-only diet? Hmmm...

"What, readings? No, no, nonononono, I don't think that'll be necessary! Just...mild antacid, and I'll be on my way."

Chase turned, giving John Smith a wary look, his lips parted. He was mostly restraining from letting out a curse, but he gave him a 'what the hell?' look. "I'm just going to take blood pressure and make sure this isn't a cardiac issue," he said slowly. "I'm very good at my job, promise."

"Stomach issue, cardiac issue," the Doctor gestured emphatically between his stomach and chest, "That's a whole span between the organs, there's nothing wrong with my hearts---heart! Nothing wrong with it! Nothing to worry about."

Chase was about a half-second away from adding a bit of Ritalin to the prescription and he just studied him carefully for a long minute. "What about a stool sample. Or is that nothing to worry about either?" he asked, less than impressed with the way his day was going.

The security guard glanced in the Doctor's direction, then turned down the hallway. Damn. Damn damn damn damnit! He stopped as a brunette woman in a doctor's coat began grilling him on something or other.

He knew the Doctor was onto him. He didn't have much time.

"Fine, fine, fine. Check my cardio, then I have to go. I really have to go."

Chase just watched the man, completely lost. "Have to go where?" he asked, sharp questions now. "And for a man with supposed stomach pains, you don't seem to be suffering anything. Who are you? Board-sent?"

"Board what?" the Doctor glanced at Dr. Chase, his eyebrows at his hairline, "No, I'm not----do you know that guard over there? That security guard talking to that woman?"

Chase just wandered over to the window, opening his mouth to answer with 'of course, that's Rod' or something along those lines, but he had to stop when he didn't recognize the man at all. "No," he drew out the single word. "Probably a new hire. Why do you care?"

"Does your stomach even hurt?" he demanded.

"Or he's something else," the Doctor said. He hopped off the exam table and shuffled through his pockets.

"Dr. Chase---that's what your name is? Yes, all right, I need a syringe, no needle. Preferably a long one, get a good range when I use it."

"You need a syringe. You, with no insurance and no stomach pain," Chase echoed back pointedly, even as he was getting it out. "Need a syringe." He extended it to Mr. Smith, keeping it out of his reach.

"Why."

"For this."

He pulled out a small tupperware container from his pocket (larger on the inside, of course), with a thick, yellow mucus inside.

"It's Krillitane oil. I use it with a syringe, I can create pressure, and a makeshift sort of weapon, shoot it against the security guard over there, and see if he's the one. You see, Krillitanes are allergic to their own oil, and this is from the one I was chasing and you don't believe me at all, do you?"

And Chase marked down crazy as yet another symptom. Crazy, ADD, with apparent stomach pains. "I really don't, no," he concurred, even if his mind thrilled at aliens! Which, he quietly suppressed after the last incident with the titanium sliver.

"Fantastic. Australian, right? Figures."

The Doctor shook his head and reached out for the syringe.

"Come on, Dr. Chase. Let me show you a little of the world, hmmm?"

"Figures?" he echoed, more than incredulous and a bit wounded. "What figures?" But he let John Smith take the syringe out of his hand and was staring, still trying to understand what, exactly, was going on. "Okay? What does a security guard have to do with the world?"

"He is not a security guard, he's an extraterrestrial being from..."

He waved his hand dismissively, then ripped the syringe out of its packet, popped off the needle, and filled it with the oil.

"Come on, I'll show you." A pause. "I already said that. Let's go!"

And he bolted from the room.

Which meant that Chase had to follow, if only because Smith had been his patient and darting out into the hall, he was trailing a madman, but he was doing it. He was watching incredulously. "I swear to god, if you cause us a lawsuit..."

"Oi, mate!"

The Doctor ran right up next to the security guard, and squirted a few ounces of the oil right into his face. The man screamed, and his skin began to hiss and steam. He ran down the corridor, an inhuman yell emanating from his throat.

The Doctor spun around, a triumphant grin on his face.

"See! I told you!"

Chase still rolled his eyes, following along and glad for the runs he did occasionally on his treadmill to be able to keep up. "Okay, so you're genuinely mad, but not," Chase was drawing conclusions in a hurry, which led to words sticking together. "So he's...what...not of this world?"

"He's a Krillitane, they're shape shifters, trying to take over various races. He was in the middle of scouting out the Draconians when I found him, and he ran. Ran here, actually."

The Doctor darted along the corridor, just in time to hear something screach and run up the stairs.

"Is there a faster way to the roof?"

"Stairs or elevator," Chase said, simply, hand on a wall to help him round a corner. "Stairs are fast if you're fast," he offered, watching John Smith as he ran alongside. "The door gets propped open by nurses.'

"Its wing is injured," the Doctor said, "It'll fall before it reaches the top, let's try the lift."

He ran to the elevator, and pushed the button furiously.

"Why do the nurses prop it open? Is that safe?"

"It's a fire hazard," Chase answered, leaning against the wall of the elevator with his hip, arms crossed. "And pushing it like that doesn't make it go faster." It was almost like watching a child in some lights.

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RP for Dr. Chase, cause we ain't done it in a long time!

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