|The Doctor Comes A-Callin'|
|What: Selina finally gets around to having One come|
It's probably long over-due but Selina finally has gotten around to making that call to the medic who saved her life when she was shot. Work has been caught up with and Isis' good side gotten back on, the latter being the most important to her, and free time to put the call out finally presented itself during a break taken for lunch. Directions to her penthouse are given as well as several requests, the stranger told to come alone and to keep where she lives just between them.
Evening falls on Gotham as the appointment time draws near, insuring One some form of privacy for his arrival, the time around nine or so. Selina is sitting on the patio, trying to relax while the fancy French doors are left open so she can hear the doorbell or knock when he finally makes it.
No stranger to making anonymous visits, One has taken precautions of his own. Not only to ensure that he hasn't been followed, but to make certain that there are no surprises waiting for him. He left his car a few blocks away and traveled on foot, pausing just long enough to observe the penthouse through a spotting scope for several minutes. Not much of a scouting run, but it'll have to do.
Rather than announce himself at the door, One treated the doorman to a whiff from a handkerchief soaked in chloroform. The portly fellow is tucked out of sight in a large cupboard. One pats him on the cheek fondly before he closes the door. "Sweet dreams."
The ride up the elevator is short and uneventful. As is usual for him, One is wearing a white shirt, a slim tie, and dark slacks. A long wool coat covers it all, and he has his little black bag dangling from his hand. Whistling breathlessly, he deboards the lift when it stops, makes his way to Selina's door, and knocks briskly. "Housekeeping."
The knock draws the woman's attention away from the skyline view and back to the real world, whatever she was thinking put aside. Getting up is not as difficult as it has been even just yesterday but while she has no problems standing the fluid gait she normally is able to move in is ruined by the hobbled way she steps on her bad leg. Will probably take a little time and some work to loosen up those muscles, or so Selina's assuming, but that can wait until she's given the doctor's okay before trying to do.
The door opens slightly and One is eyed curiously, his face looked at fully and then the man as a whole, her expression wary. "Thanks for dropping by," she eventually says while stepping to the side, the door opened fully now so that he can come in without having to push it open himself. "First things first, how much do I owe you," that asked up front so they can get the dirty job of naming numbers done and over with.
"Assuming you don't have any fresh holes, here's my quote. That includes this housecall." One has a slip of paper prepped with a number already written down. It's high, but not staggering. A fair charge for compentent medical treatment without the hassle of paperwork or police officers. He hands it over and raises an eyebrow. "If that meets with your approval, we can get started."
"That's a little steep isn't it," Selina questions but doesn't seem inclined to try and haggle with One, either of a mind that it's fair and what he is deserving for payment for services or not in the mood to try to talk him down. "Hold on." The bedroom is entered but just what it is she's doing in there is a mystery, there being nothing to hear or even see unless her guest tries to approach the doorway. "Cash suits your purpose," she asks, her voice lifted so she can be heard.
"Not as steep as bleeding out on my floor would've been. You're lucky I'm a fair man. I could've made you agree to some ridiculous price on the spot. And yes, cash is lovely." As he speaks, One slips out of his coat and sets it aside, then quickly rolls up his sleeves. As an afterthought, he loosens the knot on his tie by a fraction, then checks to make sure the tack that pins it is still in place. He's wearing his shoulder rig today, a large, old-fashioned leather holster that keeps his Webley close at hand. The butt of the revolver sticks out a few inches past his chest, but from the way he moves, it's clear he's accustomed to it.
A metallic *clank* sounds and Selina returns to the living room, the money held out to him once she is standing to one side of One. "At least you're honest about that." The leery manner in which One was watched at the door returns, this time when she notices the weapon he has on his person. "You didn't need to come armed," she points out, not yet moving. That gun is doing a good job at causing her to feel ill at ease and she's not about to go and do something foolish like going to sit down and get shot because he thought she might do something to him.
"I always need to come armed." One lifts a finger to trace an affectionate line along the Webley's battered handle. He smiles, but it's a bare twitch of his lips. "As long as you pay your bills on time and you don't come looking for a fight, you'll never have anything to fear from me. Now. Let's have a look at that leg, shall we?"
Still displaying that mysterious smile, he kneels down to unclasp the top of his bag and snap it open. A few essentials start making their way out, first and foremost a sterile cloth to serve as his worktable. A few tools, some ointments, a couple of bandages. Nothing too terrifying just yet, though he does slip on a pair of exam gloves.
The threat is responded to with nothing but a soft snort and a slight roll of green eyes, Selina not exactly thrilled even if nothing was said outright. An implied threat is still a threat, after all. The doctor is ready to do his thing, that being the exam that Selina made the appointment for, and she shimmies out of her sweats to do so. Everything's kept modest thanks to what was worn under the baggy pants, that being a pair of brief shorts that cover more than enough while baring her leg at the same time.
While he is prepping she looks out over the night-time scenery that unfolds just outside of her home, her expression softening. "Can I ask you a question while you work?"
"You may ask. I can't promise I'll answer." Honest to a fault, as usual. One peels off the bandages over the wound inspects his previous work with a critical eye and an experienced touch. "Everything seem to be holding nicely. If you promise to take it easy, I can pull your stitches. Don't try going to the gym, though. You'll bust wide open, and this time you might not have a medic handy."
"Don't worry, I won't do anything foolish," comes a grunted reply, the words spoken through teeth that clench lightly. The wound still hurts to be touched some, the mending muscle throbbing a bit upon being manipulated. The dark-haired woman lets him work in silence for a few seconds, the time that she doesn't spend talking spent thinking instead. "Your friend said I was a cat and you said so as well but I... I need clarification, please. Tell me what happened." It's a politely voiced request but at the same time there's a sharpness to it, a minute bite to her words.
"You were a cat. Then you weren't. Trust me, I'm still trying to figure it out. I certainly can't explain it, though." One glances up at Selina as he readies a small pair of scissors and a set of hemostats. "There will be some discomfort," he warns her. Then he gets to work and explains a bit more thoroughly, snipping and pulling stitches while he talks. "You'd showed up on my fire escape a few days earlier. As a cat, that is. I fed you, you took a nap, and you wandered off. You-as-cat showed up with a bullet wound a few days later. I was about to start treatment when there was a bright light, and then you were no longer a cat. You were a naked woman who was badly in need of medical attention."
The pinch of having those thin, thread-like strings is nothing she hasn't felt before but even with having experienced the twinges of pain in the past Selina can not help but to wince. "So... that's it? Nothing odd happened outside of that? I... I mean... I'm sorry. I'm not doubting your answer. I just was hoping there would have been clues that you might have noticed and didn't think to mention." Well, it seems like the missing puzzle pieces are going to remain missing.
Looking down, she watches One work his magic as well as she can, the angle of the wound making that pretty difficult without resorting in using mirrors and acrobatic feats. "How long before I can run... hell, how long will it be before I can soak in a hot bubble bath, for that matter."
"Run? I'd say a week, but knowing you, a few days will have to do. Same with the bubbles. You could take a hot bat with clean, unscented water tonight, though. Might help with circulation to the wound, which will help with healing. Plus, clean is good." One tugs out another stitch, and another. As always, his movements are mechanical and precise, as if he were programmed to be a doctor rather than trained. Whatever the case, it gets the job done.
A week. That's not bad but One's right. Selina can barely keep herself still for a few days at a time and she's already been forcing herself to stay home and let herself heal since she got back save a few necessary trips out. She's already twitchy and wanting for something to do. "I will try to stay off of my feet for one more week," she tries to promise, that said for her benefit as much as his. "And the first thing I am going to do is soak." And indulge in a very nice bottle of bubbly.
Once the final stitch is pulled, One picks up a curious implement. It's a small, aerosol-style can similar to the sort used for shaving cream, but the nozzle is wide and flat. It's also covered with markings in a foreign language that looks suspiciously like Korean. "Hold still. This is synthetic skin. It'll hold for three to five days, depending on how much you move around. It'll dry and fall off naturally. *Don't* pick at it."
With a syrupy hissing noise, he sprays a thin layer of the off-pink substance over Selina's wound and the surrounding area. "That should do nicely."
The artificial flesh is something new to Selina who usually goes to Leslie's clinic when she's in need of medical treatment, the under-funded facility usually not in possession of such fancy medical supplies. "Don't pick. Got it." Her hand reaches up and is ran through her hair, sending it to stand up here and there as she lets her fingers play through it a bit. "Look, I know this probably isn't exactly normal -" or at least it isn't for her, "- but I feel like I owe you a lot more than just money. If there's anything I can do to repay you for your kindness..." Sel falls silent and she looks over at her guest, her eyes narrowed in thought. Was it kindness that inspired One to help her when she was a cat or was it something else? Not knowing him at all she can't really say and it leaves her chilled from the inside out.
Most of the way through packing up his supplies, One spares a second to glance at Selina quizzically. "I appreciate the offer, but I don't normally have sex. It's so... messy. And frankly, you're in no condition to keep up with me at the moment."
SNAP. He pulls off his gloves, tucks them in a plastic sack, and drops this last item into his bag. He managed to tidy up in a remarkably short amount of time.
"Wait... what?" That is not what was being offered! Selina glares at One but it isn't just his assumption that gets those eye daggers tossed at him. No, his comment about her not being able to keep up also pokes at her, pushing buttons. "I could keep up with you just fine," she announces abruptly. If she has any intention of proving him just how wrong One is it must not be not that she's planning on making him see the errs of his way though as she's pulling up her sweats, too annoyed to think of a snappy comeback.
For the first time since he walked through the door, One cracks a genuinely amused smile. "No you couldn't," he says gently. "But don't take it personally. I have unfair advantages. Lots of them."
Still grinning, he pops the top of his bag closed and shrugs to adjust his shoulder holster. "Are there any other services you require?" he quips.
Selina arches a brow as she regards him and his statement, the smile infuriating her just as much as the way he sounds so sure of that, like it is absolute 'gospel truth'. "Perhaps we'll test that theory of yours at some point," she semi-snarls, her face flushed. Yup. Someone got to her. Sighing, she looks away, trying to will the growing fluster to go away. "I think that will do. I am sure we will meet again."
"Try not to get shot," One says by way of parting. "What am I saying... I should want you to get shot. Then I get paid. Tsk. Silly me."
Smiling all the way, he picks up his coat, dips Selina a nod, and lets himself out.