[He looks at her, hardly serious about the comment because chivalry's dead, at least the old fashioned kind. There's a nice booth and look there's a pie special today. He's already thinking of getting a slice.]
I'd rather be a consummate professional than excuse bad behavior on grounds of being a lady.
[Chivalry's dead, but its last throes weren't all that long ago. From where she's sitting, at least-- but that's irrelevant, of course. All Cameron wants is coffee, and the quiet relief of a few moments' company subtly borrowed.]
In that case you won't mind if I grab a slice of this.
[Freddy points at the picture of some pie drizzled with caramel and strawberries and other sweet tooth type things. It doesn't help that oreos are involved in the making. Then, like an afterthought:]
[That's the order. He's assuming she means she'll need a doctor to diagnosis a sugar overdose...because Freddy's not one to imply a woman is trying to watch her weight.]
Doing alright, not much work coming into the garage cause it's still cold out but hey I'm not complaining. More time for me to work on a motorcycle.
[He's gonna ask her the helmet question very soon.] You?
[She's still smiling though, so obviously that's not Real Medical Advice. Still, she won't partake. Not exactly because she's watching her weight (though she always does,) but because she doesn't feel indulgent.]
I'm doing... well, the same as always, really. In between curses and emergencies my life isn't terribly interesting.
[Freddy quips in return with a grin. But not terribly interesting? He doubts that though he also knows better than to just bring up Chase and Claire's revelation without some ounce of fluidity.]
No fun ER stories? [This guy is full of interesting patrol stories, if only he'd told her he's a cop.]
[Someday Cameron will figure out why she lets him get away with it, with nothing more than an arched eyebrow.]
At home-- here, things are a little different, we really see more injuries than illnesses-- our team takes the cases no one else can solve. We do whatever we have to. [She lifts her chin slightly.] I like that.
[It's an obvious, if pointless, evasion. After a moment, she clarifies:]
Not that I don't think it's a valid profession. It's just... not quite where my interests lay. I feel like I do more good, doing what I do now, than I would have as a therapist, or a psychiatrist.
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[Not that it would matter to Freddy who looks to take a seat somewhere secluded. The hint of tension in her hands doesn't escape his notice.]
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[She keeps her tone as light as their conversation, happy to let him take the lead because it means the focus isn't on her.]
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[He looks at her, hardly serious about the comment because chivalry's dead, at least the old fashioned kind. There's a nice booth and look there's a pie special today. He's already thinking of getting a slice.]
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[Chivalry's dead, but its last throes weren't all that long ago. From where she's sitting, at least-- but that's irrelevant, of course. All Cameron wants is coffee, and the quiet relief of a few moments' company subtly borrowed.]
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[Freddy points at the picture of some pie drizzled with caramel and strawberries and other sweet tooth type things. It doesn't help that oreos are involved in the making. Then, like an afterthought:]
You can have some too.
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[She laughs.]
But don't let me stop you.
[She leans her forearms on the table, a bit more relaxed. Not much.] So how have you been? Well enough not to end up in the E.R., but beyond that?
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[That's the order. He's assuming she means she'll need a doctor to diagnosis a sugar overdose...because Freddy's not one to imply a woman is trying to watch her weight.]
Doing alright, not much work coming into the garage cause it's still cold out but hey I'm not complaining. More time for me to work on a motorcycle.
[He's gonna ask her the helmet question very soon.] You?
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[She's still smiling though, so obviously that's not Real Medical Advice. Still, she won't partake. Not exactly because she's watching her weight (though she always does,) but because she doesn't feel indulgent.]
I'm doing... well, the same as always, really. In between curses and emergencies my life isn't terribly interesting.
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[Freddy quips in return with a grin. But not terribly interesting? He doubts that though he also knows better than to just bring up Chase and Claire's revelation without some ounce of fluidity.]
No fun ER stories? [This guy is full of interesting patrol stories, if only he'd told her he's a cop.]
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I'm afraid you have to be on staff to get the results of the weekly contest, for most interesting item removed from an orifice.
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That's not real is it?
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At least you sound like you love what you do.
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[It's a little bit of a practiced answer, not that that makes it untrue.]
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Anyone ever give you the whole "you're not the type to work here, what's your angle" deal?
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I have. Not all that often. [She tilts her head a little.] I think my angle's pretty obvious.
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[He shrugs with a smile while doctoring up that brew.]
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[Plain and simple. She shrugs, too, barely perceptible.]
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[It's a joke, still. Maybe lewd, but Freddy wouldn't be Freddy if he didn't talk about boob jobs over coffee and his now arriving pie.]
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At home-- here, things are a little different, we really see more injuries than illnesses-- our team takes the cases no one else can solve. We do whatever we have to. [She lifts her chin slightly.] I like that.
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[He gives her a somewhat sly smile.]
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[As a practice, not as a need, he means.]
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[It's an obvious, if pointless, evasion. After a moment, she clarifies:]
Not that I don't think it's a valid profession. It's just... not quite where my interests lay. I feel like I do more good, doing what I do now, than I would have as a therapist, or a psychiatrist.