| PHD #280: Take your Medicine |
| Summary: | Hosedown gets a visit in the brig from a corpsman and the CAG. |
| Date: | 02 Dec 2041 AE |
| Related Logs: | Too Far, Hosedown |
| Players: |
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| Officer's Brig |
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| Post-Holocaust Day: #280 |
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Andrea is on the floor, doing crunches when the the door to the brig opens up. She doesn't bother looking up right away, instead choosing to finish her crunches. Time in an enclosed space is not nearly as frightening for her now as it would have been a year or so previously. If the new arrival is here for her, they'll say something.
McManus gives the duty marine a nod, offering over his shiny new ID in silence. Once cleared to enter, he opens the door, steps inside, and waits there in silence, arms folded. He waits patiently for her to finish the crunches, watching her inscrutably.
Sitting up as the crunches are done, Andrea grabs her fatigues jacket and uses it to wipe her brow, then turns and looks at the newcomer. "Hello, there." She says with a small smile. "Do I know you? I'm still pretty new on board."
McManus raises an eyebrow at that, asking simply, "Tauron?" He shrugs, entering more fully and setting down a small medical bag. He gestures for her arm, pulling out a cuff and steth. "I just got picked up, myself. I just need to take your vitals, then I'll be out of your hair, sir. Any underlying conditions I should know about?"
Andrea hesitates, then nods, offering her arm. "Actually, Aerilon. I was picked up… oh, a few months ago. I had some minor rad poisoning and an iron deficiency in my diet, but that has mostly been worked out since I came on board the Cerberus."
McManus nods once, hooking a seat with his foot and nodding to it as he slips the cuff over her arm. "Nutrition isn't easy when you're living on what you can find, hm?" he notes absently, beginning to pump in air. "What's got you stuck in here, sir, if I can ask?" comes his next question as he watches his watch, steth against her inner arm as the cuff deflates.
Andrea chuckles. "Well, I guess the rumor mill has probably got the truth out there in some form by now." She shrugs. "Deck Apprentice Wright… Shiner, they call him. He's under the impression he's the God's gift to women, and was doing some eyebrow waggling. Well, I batted my own lashes, and when it was all over, he was naked in the CAG's Raptor, handcuffed to the ECO's chair, and all I had to do was unzip my flight suit a little. He was found by the CAG."
McManus simply listens to that, withdrawing the stethoscope to a pocket and unfastening the cuff. "I see, sir," comes his response, with perhaps just a polite hint of disapproval. He takes her hand, pressing on a fingernail for a moment, then releasing it. "I assume he objected, then. Are you due a long stay in here, or should I expect you gone for rounds tomorrow, sir?"
"Objected? Well, maybe. Once I was leaving the Raptor with his outfit, maybe. All the way to that point he was going along with everything. It's not like I tied him up and took his clothes off myself." Andrea glances at a clock, and shrugs. "I should be out sometime today, unless the CAG feels like letting my heels cool a bit longer. So I'll probably be out of here by then."
"I'm pleased to hear it," McManus replies in an easy baritone, switching his attention to her face. "Look up for me, sir. Follow my finger. Good. And into the light? Good." He pats her shoulder lightly. "I can't see any problems, sir. Stop into sickbay some time this week for a quick blood test, though, if you would? Keep an eye on your iron levels."
Andrea follows the PO's instructions, and sighs. She isn't the biggest fan of doctor visits, but who is? "But I…" Bad girl, take your medicine. "Ok, yeah, I'll drop by Sickbay when I'm off duty."
McManus nods once, straightening, and tucks his equipment back in his bag. And there's another new officer to meet, so he straightens to attention. "I'm just leaving, sir. She's all yours."
Cidra slips into Brigtown. Pausing briefly to sign in and chat with the MP on duty before working her way back to Andrea's cell. She's in her off-duties, no rank pins or other such trappings visible. But, with the copious tattoos and her general manner, it does little to make her less imposing when she wants to be.
Andrea's eyes flicker over to Cidra and she can't help but smile. She's gonna get it, for sure, but best to get a gag in first, right? "Afternoon, sir. You know, if you wanted to thank me for the gift, a simple note would have sufficed. I've heard flying with a naked man in the back can be quite relaxing."
McManus heads to the duty MP to sign out, a faint flicker of amusement crossing his face at that comment. Still, it's not his business.
"Hosedown." Cidra says the callsign short and tersely. She pauses in front of the pilot's cell, hands laced behind her back. No smiles here. "I see your sojourn here has not actually impressed upon you the stupidity of your actions, so I shall endeavor to do that now. First and foremost. I do not generally care what stupidity pilots engage in off-duty, so long as they do not *make* me care. What you do in the berths, in others' lockers, as you please. But the hangar deck is a place of business. A place where the slightest error, even unintentional, can damage air craft, delay the launch of CAP which is *vital* to our safety, and pose a danger to my pilots and ECOs and Chief Damon's deckhands. You do not screw around there."
Andrea stands up at attention and sighs. Time to take the medicine. "Yes, sir. I understand, sir."
"You will promise me you shall not screw around there again, or there shall be far worse for you than a single day in the brig," Cidra goes on. "As it stands, after you are released from here, you shall spend two hours a day of your off-duty time the next *week* scrubbing the main Head. With a toothbrush. Clear?"
Andrea winces at that. She should arrange a way to make sure it was Shiner's toothbrush. That was only fair, after all. "Yes, sir. I understand, sir." All in all, it could have been worse. Still, a smile would be nice. It WAS a funny prank, for crying out loud. "Pranks away from the deck, toothbrush head duty."
Cidra's brows quirk. 'Pranks /away/ from the Deck?' Well, it's something. "More or less," she says wryly. "Do use your time here to reflect upon propriety." She turns to go. But pauses to add, "And if you are taken by stupidity enough to try something like this again, I would appreciate someone with more…maturity than Mister Wright." And off she goes.
"Noted, sir." Andrea calls after her. "Would you prefer red-head or brown hair, next time?"