Savoy House
Warm, elegant and inviting is the lasting impression of this house. Ranch-style, the exterior of the house is contemporary mediterranean, soft cream with a muted forest green roof and matching shutters at each window. The interior design of the house is predominantly rustic italian, the walls warm rich shades of cream, blue, brown and a faded rust red. The artwork is natural and simple, mirroring the earthy shades of the house and furniture. Low half walls separate the open area of the main house into individual 'rooms'. Deep, plush area rugs are set here and there to warm the chill from the italian tiled floor. From the entry, the house opens out into a library to the right, opposite a dining room to the left. Just past the dining room is a comfortable kitchen, and filling the rest of the space is a well appointed living room area. Past the dining room, a short hall leads on one side to a two car garage and on the other to the master bedroom. Past the living room on the right are three additional bedrooms, one guest room, one transformed into an artist's studio and one converted into a home office. A bathroom sits between the guest bedroom and the studio. French doors just past the living room lead out to a large enclosed patio and pool area, complete with an outdoor grille and kitchen. Beyond the patio is an large, well manicured yard, surrounded by natural wood privacy fencing.
Five days out, and early evening, as Mignonette moves around the house, arranging this and that as best she can. The house is neat and tidy, thanks to the temporary maid service she's arranged to help her until she's fully back on her feet. The dining room table has been pulled a bit further out of its usual recess, the chairs pulled out as well. While she's been fortunate enough to be able to arrange in house visits from the local traveling nursing service, the house is by no means set up to be a treatment facility. And so, she does the best that she can, setting everything up so that she can be seen to as easily as possible.
—-
Tasha isn't really the sort of doctor to make house calls normally, but she has found herself making exceptions with worrying frequency these days. This city just keeps getting more and more dangerous, it seems. She's left the scrubs behind for this visit, done up in her usual sort of business casual, with perhaps just a bit of extra effort put into looking her best. A moderately-sized duffel bag is slung over a shoulder, not quite meshing with the nice clothes; but it's the handiest way to cart around the various medical supplies. Coming up to the house, she pauses to give a quick glance over the exterior before reaching out to ring the bell.
—-
Mignonette had only just finished pulling the last of the chairs out, when the doorbell rings, and she rises up, hands settling gently at the small of her back, rubbing away some of the strain, before she moves to get the door. The exterior of the house is innocuous enough, though careful eyes might be able to spot the recessed security cameras arranged around. There's just a brief pause, as the door is unlocked, the little peephole darkened for a moment, as the woman on the other side looks through, and then it's pulled open. Mignonette's expression is cautious, and friendly both. It's clear she isn't sure who the woman on the other side of the door is, as she's not dressed in the usual scrubs the nurse she was expecting to be over tonight usually wears, "Yes, may I help you?"
—-
Tasha gives a nod of greeting as the door is opened, though it isn't friendly so much as it is simply polite. Readjusting the bag's strap a little higher on her shoulder, she gives the invalid a quick once-over before arching her eyebrows ever so slightly. "Dr. Cox. Natasha Cox?" It's a bit 'Bond James Bond', but she's not quite sure which name might have been passed along, so both are offered up readily enough. "James asked me to stop by and see you?" In case neither name rings a bell. Her tone is efficient and rather no-nonsense, the surfeit of information offered up in the hopes of finding the right reminder in the most expedient manner.
—-
Mignonette doesn't seem to take offense to the once over, despite the fact that she's looking rather casual, in track pants and a button-down men's shirt quite a few sizes too large for her. Despite the attire, she still carries herself as neatly as she would if she were in her normal business attire, if all that currently exists of it is her makeup and her hair upswept into a twist. But as the introduction is made, the caution fades, and the remaining friendly expression is mingled with one of invitation, as she steps back, pulling the door open further to allow the other woman to step inside, "Such a pleasure to finally meet you, Dr. Cox. Please, come in. And thank you for agreeing to come to see me."
—-
The invitation made, Tasha steps inside, moving clear of the door so that it can be shut before turning to wait for Mignonette to lead on. "Of course. I wouldn't normally see someone outside of the hospital, but as James asked…" She trails off with a slight shrug, fingers curling loosely over the strap of the bag. There's a bit of possessiveness there, which she doesn't even bother trying to hide - nor is she making any secrets as to the only reason she's agreed to this. That done, though, she moves on to business without missing a beat. "How are you feeling?" Not the sympathetic fawning of a worried friend, but still a genuine question just the same.
—-
Mignonette's laughter is a light thing, as she hears the explanation for the location of the visit, "He does have that way about him, doesn't he? If he phrases it just the right way, most people would stand on their heads if he asked. But he's a good man, and he has a good heart." She moves over towards the dining room area, allowing you to move as you like, "Thank you for agreeing, however it came about. I mean no offense, but I was rather uncomfortable being in the hospital." And then, to business, "I've been feeling fine, making certain I'm taking all of the medications that were prescribed to me. But my back has been feeling rather tight. I'm not sure if it's the stitches, or just because I've been trying hard not to move anything. I've never had any real injuries, and never had stitches before, I suppose I'm just concerned that I might not be healing as well as I should be."
—-
"I know," Tasha replies, perhaps somewhat pointedly, as to Young being a good man with a good heart. "I suppose it is just as well that he uses his powers for good instead of evil," she adds, trying to lighten up at least a little. She follows along into the house, taking in the interior in passing with a cool expression but a watchful gaze. "None taken," she goes on, of the offence. "It is one thing to work there, and quite another to be a patient, I would imagine." As conversation turns to shop-talk, her expression becomes more thoughtful, and she files away these details in her mental notes. "I'll take a look at them and ensure there's no infection or complications. Is it a muscle tightness or does the skin itself feel tight? Any tenderness or warmth radiating from the area?"
—-
"Could you imagine Evil James? I think the world would shudder." But she seems to take or leave that part of the conversation as it comes, being more focused both on having her wounds seen to, and not wasting the good doctor's time, "Just my body feels very tight. My whole back from my shoulders all the way down to the small of my back. I haven't tried to really test my range of movement, out of fear of tearing something. No tenderness or warmth." She stops at the dining room, "I'm not sure where you'd like to do the exam. I pulled out the table," she indicates the dining room table, "But if you need me to lie down, or you need more light…" She allows the doctor to choose.
—-
"It would be dangerous," Tasha agrees, of Evil James, before moving on equally readily, happy to focus on the medicine instead of the more personal stuff. She considers Mignonette's answers, nodding a few times as she continues making mental notes. "It doesn't sound as though there's infection, but I'd still like to examine them, to be certain." She gives a quick once-over of the dining room as they arrive upon it, and then nods her approval. "This should suffice for a preliminary exam. If there are further complications, you may want to lie down, but it shouldn't be necessary for this. She moves to set down her bag so that she can pull a pair of sterile gloves from an outside pocket. "If I can just see your back…"
—-
"Oh, of course, give me just one minute." Mignonette leaves the good doctor to get her things together, while she steps past the kitchen and into the small hall towards the master bedroom. It only takes her a few, albeit long minutes, before she comes back out, having shrugged off the shirt, and instead replaced it with a thick towel, which she's holding over her front, to protect her modesty, though it's unlikely Tasha would be offended. Mignonette moves to settle into one of the chairs that she's pulled out for this purpose, turning her back to Tasha. The lacerations are long, beginning just under her shoulder blades on the left side, and descending diagonally until they almost curve around to her side on the lower right, just above her hip.
—-
While Mignonette fetches herself a towel, Tasha finishes prepping herself, a few supplies removed from the bag and laid out, though other than just some disinfectant and gauze, she waits to actually examine the sutures before figuring a prognosis. When the other woman returns, the doctor hardly even seems to notice the towel, so it does seem likely she wouldn't have been bothered either way. When Mignonette sits, Tasha moves in closer, reaching out to carefully check the area for any signs of complications or infections. Despite her brusque manner, her touch is gentle but confident. "It looks to be healing fine. Likely the stiffness is caused by tensing of the muscles. You're probably being overly cautious."
—-
Mignonette holds herself perfectly still, not flinching as she feels Tasha examine her wounds, perhaps trusting the woman enough to feel at ease, "I've been very worried. I've been trying not to get the skin wet, and Alex has been helping me as much as he can. I'm afraid I didn't get much in the way of discharge orders when I left, except for my medications." She pauses, "I got the distinct impression that people were afraid of me. Well, not me, but of being associated with me. I felt as if I had some sort of infectious disease." Terrified people, even professional ones are still terrified, "How much can I move now? Can I go swimming?"
—-
"These animal attacks have everyone on edge," Tasha 'explains' without putting a great deal of effort into the cover. "That is what happened, correct?" She, of course, has her own idea of what happened, but tries to ease into the conversation with all the tact and aplomb she's capable of. "Avoiding strenuous movement is a good idea for the next few days. No heavy lifting or excess stretching, but you should be fine to move normally otherwise. Keep the sutures dry, and have someone clean them once a day, checking for signs of infection." She rattles this off almost like a rehearsed speech. "It appears as though they're at least another three to five days away from removal."
—-
"Doctor Scott," Mignonette offers, as she sits through the examination, "The man who admitted me to surgery from the ER says he thought it might have been a bear, from the size and shape of the wounds. It was right by White Rock Lake, over on the forest side along the left-hand trail around the perimeter." And then she falls politely quiet, but no less attentive for her lack of contribution to the conversation. Rather she seems intent on making certain she marks all of Tasha's words, nodding, slightly, to each of the instructions. "I've been having a nursing service come in to clean them. I was actually expecting them when you arrived." Which might help to explain why she had the dining room set up, but didn't know who you were.
—-
"Doctor Scott," Tasha replies, in a tone that helpfully adds the 'is an idiot' without her having to come right out and say as much. "Did you think it was a bear?" An odd question perhaps, but she's hoping just odd enough to open a line of communication if Mignonette is aware, or else just make Tasha seem a bit odd otherwise, which she's really quite all right with. "Good. A nurse's care is always at least moderately improved over that of your layman." She doesn't think a whole lot of nurses either, it would seem. "If they're on their way, I will leave it for them to clean." Which doesn't leave her with too much else to do. "Should they turn red or start to feel hot, or you notice any discharge, you can contact me through James. He always knows how to reach me." Just another pointed touch of possessiveness.
—-
"I have never heard of bears being so close to the lake, I wasn't even aware there were bears in or around Dallas, but it was dark and difficult to see, especially when the force of the blow sent me to the ground." She takes a moment, to readjust the towel, so that she can sit more comfortably, "Will I be able to have the stitches out here, or should I return to the hospital. And, if I need to have them out there, would it be possible for me to request that you do the removal?" As she hears the tone of the woman's voice, as she mentions James, Mignonette does turn, just enough to look over her shoulder to the doctor behind her, "I would hope that he would." A beat, before she comments, just as pointedly, "If you're concerned about poaching, you needn't be."
—-
"I see, yes," Tasha replies, considering Mignonette's response to the bear question. "At least it doesn't appear as though you were bitten." There's a hint of a question in there, just to be on the safe side. "To avoid the risk of infection, it would be safest to do it there. I'm off on Friday, but otherwise, you should find me there any day or evening." Which is as close as she comes to giving the okay to actually request for her to do them. As the other woman turns to look at her, and returns the pointed comment, Tasha doesn't seem shamed in the least, but rather somewhat satisfied that her point has been made. She gives a decided nod in response. "Good. I don't like to have to worry." Stepping back now that the exam is over, she begins peeling off the gloves.
—-
A decided shake of her head, "No, no bites, thankfully, just the back." Now that the exam seems to be over, Mignonette moves to rise to her feet, and while she's still holding the towel, she does turn to face the woman, still carrying herself as her usual poise, showing no embarrassment at her state of dress, or lack there of, "I will make sure to schedule it for a day when you will be available, and I'll call ahead to make sure." She watches the doctor clean up her supplies, and her voice comes again, still friendly, still gentle, "James is my best friend. That is never going to change. His happiness is of paramount importance to me. And if he's found happiness with you, Doctor Cox, then you both have my blessing. He deserves someone good in his life. But there is a condition."
—-
Once the gloves are removed, Tasha tosses them into another outside pocket on the bag, for safe disposal later. Again, she hardly seems to notice Mignonette's lack of clothing, having spent enough time around half-dressed or undressed patients to keep them clearly separate in her mind, at least as long as the conversation is medical-related. "Of course. I'll expect you then." Not that she'll plan her day around it, but it won't come as a terrible surprise either, when she finds herself paged to do a suture removal. As the conversation turns more personal, Tasha's manner becomes just a touch more defensive, and she gives a tight nod to the other woman's first few points. "A condition?" she repeats, an eyebrow arching just a bit. There's a hint of challenge there, as though she'd like to see Mignonette just try to enforce any conditions. But still, she waits to hear the actual terms before responding further.
—-
"Two, actually." Mignonette notes the woman's defensiveness, but she doesn't seem in the least phased by it. "First, I'll be having a little get together, in a few weeks, once my back is healed. Probably just a barbeque outside on the patio, with some family," read her cousin, "And some of the friends I've made since I arrived in the city. Also, in about a month, the firm is arranging to have a reception to celebrate both the opening of the new Dallas office, and the 250th anniversary of the start of the business." Finally, a smile curls her lips, and there's some humour there, "I hope you'll consider, if you're not working, coming to both. You would be more than welcome, and I would be glad to have you as a guest." That's it. Not really conditions at all, just two invitations to two social events, "Anyone in James' life is welcome in mine." And she honestly means that.
—-
These non-conditions do surprise Tasha a little, though she does fairly well at covering, beyond a twitch upwards of her eyebrows as she realizes they aren't really conditions at all. Finally, she manages a small smile, polite rather than friendly, but it's a start. "I'll see what my schedule allows. They do keep me quite busy at the hospital. But if I'm free, I would be happy to." 'Happy to' might be a bit of a stretch: she's still defensive, wary and a bit possessive, but there is some effort there, and she is at least willing to attend. "Thank you for inviting me." It's a bit stiff, but polite nonetheless.
—-
A start is what it is, and it's a hopeful one, and Mignonette certainly seem to accept it as such. The smile is returned, and there's still that friendliness in her expression, "I suppose I should try harder to keep up that cold, heartless defense attorney facade, shouldn't I?" Exactly the words James uses, sarcastically, to describe the small Cajun woman. A touch of impish humour crinkles her eyes as the smile grows into a grin, "Nah." But then she answers Tasha's words, "Then you have my blessing twofold. It will be nice to have good company. Of course, you schedule -should- come first, but I'll send the invitations around as soon as we've settled on the days. And you're welcome. It really was very kind of you to come in your off-time to see me. And if there's anything I can ever do to help you, please feel free to ask me." James, of course, would know the exact nature of the resources at the firm's disposal.
—-
"Oh, I wouldn't say that," is all Tasha offers as to whether or not the other woman should try harder at that facade. Not that she's trying to insinuate that Mignonette comes across cold and heartless enough, since that's hardly the case in her experience. Perhaps realizing it's the sort of jesting comment she'd just end up somehow ruining, she moves right along. "Yes, the sooner I know of the dates, the sooner I can put in a request. It doesn't improve my chances a whole lot, but some." The life of a resident is one lived at the whims of their supervisors, after all. "I will keep the offer in mind, thank you. Was there anything else?" She hangs around for questions or concerns, but begins packing up the bag again.
—-
Mignonette steps back, allowing Tasha freedom to move and repack her bags, "I will try to get them to you as early as possible, even if I have to leave a message for you, before the invitation arrives." She really does want to make it possible for Tasha to come, "No, now that I know that the stitches are alright, and that the wounds are healing properly, I feel very much relieved." She looks towards the kitchen, "Can I get you something though, before you go?" Always the gracious hostess.
—-
"Oh, please don't feel you need to go to any extra effort for me," Tasha replies with a quick shake of her head, the bag promptly repacked, since she hadn't taken all that much out of it in the first place. "All right. As I said, should you have any further concerns, it shouldn't be too terribly difficult to get a message through." She follows the glance towards the kitchen, hesitating slightly before giving her head a quick shake. "Ah, that won't be necessary. I'm sure you would much rather be resting."
—-
"It would be worth it," is all Mignonette offers in answer to Tasha's attempt to dissuade her from the effort, "I will be sure to contact you at the hospital." She doesn't want to presume too much on James' friendship, after all, "I've had five days of doing -nothing- but resting. Believe me, I'd rather be doing something productive. I have a variety of things to drink, or I could throw something together for a quick meal." She does glance to the clock on the wall of the library. It is indeed past dinnertime.
—-
Not quite sure whether or not it would be worth it, but also a little too vain to outright argue that it wouldn't, Tasha just makes a noncommittal noise to that point, moving right along to the next. "Of course. And in the case of an emergency, I'm sure you know to go straight there." Still, it covers her behind in case there is a big problem and it ends up badly because people were waiting around for her to get back to them. "Well, a meal isn't necessary, but … a coffee, perhaps?" she offers in compromise, giving her shoulders a quick shrug.
—-
"That I can certainly do. Let me go and put my clothes back on." She turns, again leaving Tasha to make herself comfortable, as she disappears back into the master bedroom. This time, having been given the okay not to be as cautious as she has been, it doesn't take her quite as long to get back into the main house, and she moves towards the kitchen, washing her hands before she does anything else. "Feel free to make yourself at home, Dr. Cox." The hot water kettle is filled, set out to heat on the stove, as she turns her attention to retrieving a french press and adding the correct amount of coffee, once she grinds it from whole bean. "The remote controls are in that basket on the living room table."
—-
"Of course," Tasha replies, giving a little nod as Mignonette takes her leave to get dressed again. Now waltzing around in a towel might start to make Tash feel awkward. She gives a little nod as the woman returns, passing through to the kitchen. But Tasha isn't really the type to just kick back and put her feet up in another person's home, even if Mignonette didn't put her on edge simply because of her relationship with James. Though her poise and grace come naturally, in these unfamiliar situations, they're hindered by a certain stiffness, and so, left to her own devices, she merely paces the area for a few moments before settling onto any seat that's handy. "It is a lovely home that you have," she comments, raising her voice to be heard over the distance. She's not great at idle pleasantries, but again, she's trying.
—-
Mignonette, now that she's settled into the kitchen, seem quite at ease, the woman obviously at home in this more domestic sort of setting. She looks over towards the pub table, where Tasha's settled herself, "Thank you, it took me forever to find it. I had been looking for something before I moved. I knew I couldn't stay in the corporate apartment, even though that was what was supposed to be arranged. I only just closed on it about three weeks ago. It's really been lovely. It's such a beautiful location." Even despite the proximity to her attack, "Have you been in Dallas long yourself, Dr. Cox?" The kettle begins to whistle, and once turned off, she pulls it off of the stove, and pours water into the press, stepping back to allow the beans to steep.
—-
"You've settled in quite well then, in that case," Tasha remarks, considering the short time the woman has been here. She takes another look around at the place, a keen gaze sweeping over everything before coming back to rest on Mignonette. "I grew up not too very far outside of the city, though I was away for school not long ago." She avoids specifics, just glossing over the very big picture talking points of her life. "It's been nice to be back." She fiddles idly with a button on the cuff of her blouse, undoing it and then refastening it a few times. Sitting idly is a little more difficult than when she actually had work to do.
—-
Mignonette seems disinclined to ask for specifics. Certainly their relationship, such as it is, doesn't warrant that sort of invasion of privacy. She does move over to the kitchen, calling back, towards where Tasha is sitting, "Do you take cream or sugar? I also have non-dairy and artificial sweetener, if that's more to your liking." She pulls out a carton of real cream, regardless, and set it down on the counter, "I grew up in Baton Rouge, myself, though I spent quite a bit of time in New Orleans. But I went to school in New York, Columbia."
—-
"Black is fine," Tasha replies. She'd hook it up to an IV if she didn't actually know how badly that would go from medical knowledge. Cream or sugar only dilute the sweet, sweet caffeine as far as she's concerned. She might add more, but as Mignonette goes on, the woman again manages to catch her by surprise. "Columbia? Really? I attended medical school there myself." It is a very small world, and the sheer amazement has her offering up more details than she might normally.
—-
Mignonette retrieves only the real sugar from the cabinet then, as she sets that down, and returns to the coffee, pushing down the plunger to strain the beans from the coffee itself. Two cups are set out next, on saucers, and Tasha's coffee is poured first, and carried over to be set down at the pub table, showing the same amount of surprise at Tasha's revelation, "It is a small world, isn't it? One of my new employees took his Juris Doctor at Columbia as well. I did my BS in Social work there, '99, and then my JD in '02. My parents, of course, insisted on Tulane, but I was determined to see the world. Such as New York was." Only once she's served Tasha, does she return to make a cup for herself, her own done in the french fashion, cafe au lait, half cream half coffee. A dash of sugar.
—-
"It is a very good school," Tasha grants, as though that somehow makes the coincidence less so. It's still fairly astonishing nonetheless, and it's almost grudgingly that she comes to recognize she has this much in common with the other woman. She breaks only to offer a quick thank you for the coffee, letting it cool for a moment while she waits for Mignonette to return to join her. "And was it all you had hoped it would be?" she inquires of New York, crossing one leg over the other and settling into her seat a little more.
—-
"It was noisy, and dirty; the people, for the most part, were rude and always seemed to be in a rush, usually to get nowhere. Sort of the way people race to get ahead of you, just so that they can sit at the red light." Once her own coffee is ready, she carries it back to the table, along with the press, which still has a few cups worth in it, "Of course, the nightlife was fabulous, the museums and theatres, but that doesn't mean much if the atmosphere isn't congenial. And Columbia wasn't much better. I'm not certain what medical school there was like, but the law program was particularly cutthroat, everyone trying to cut your legs out from under you, just to get one rung higher on the ladder."
—-
"Perhaps the world isn't all that it is cracked up to be," Tasha suggests wryly, suggesting that she perhaps shares Mignonette's views on New York, at least as a microcosm of the world at large. "It was a place to be surrounded by people and yet somehow always alone." She frowns down into her coffee, thoughtful and not frowning at the coffee itself. With a small shrug, she takes her first sip. "Medical school was extremely competitive, yes. Not that I minded that. I thrive on competition." She was probably one of the most brutal, really. "I appreciated having something concrete to focus on."
—-
"That was it exactly," Mignonette agrees, "Millions of people around, and yet you could have been the only person in the entire city. But perhaps I'm too much of a country girl, I was happiest at home, and I was glad to go back there, once I graduated." A beat, and she takes the time to sip her coffee, "Not that I'm complaining about being here. The firm needs me here." And like a good soldier, Mignonette goes where she's ordered to go, "I rather got that impression from you, yes," is the Cajun woman's lightly offered comment, "And now you've come home. That must be quite a comfort."
—-
"I think New York might just be a special case. Or any of the massively overpopulated cities. Then again, I can't deny being glad to return myself," Tasha admits, though she's not exactly going to call herself a country girl in turn. She takes another sip of her own drink, mulling over the point as she lets the flavour roll over her tongue before swallowing. "Yes, well. If the firm needs you," she replies with an efficient nod, seeing the practicality of going where needed, whatever personal feelings there might be. She merely lifts her cup in acknowledgement at the lighter comment on her nature - something she neither denies nor apologizes for. "A comfort, yes, I suppose. It seemed the best next step for me."
—-
"You might be right at that. I also spent a short amount of time in Los Angeles, when I was in high school, a couple of summers, and it had the same feeling, though not as distant. There it was, people didn't want to know you personally, but they certainly wanted to know everything about you. It was as if the city was filled with amateur paparazzi." Another sip of her coffee, as she settles comfortably into the conversation, "The family always comes first, before everything else." That comment is said without any trace of emotion, which is telling in and of itself, but the ease with which she's speaking soon returns, "Do you have a particular speciality, Dr. Cox? I mean, aside from house calls and checking stitches? Or have you not chosen it yet?"
—-
"I would think they were just hoping you might be someone famous they weren't cool enough to know about yet," Tasha muses, considering LA. Never having been there, she has to fall back on stereotypes, though it sounds as though they might not be so far from wrong. "Yes. I understand," she replies with a nod, after considering both Mignonette's statement on family and the way she says it. Of course, in her case, 'family' is a little more fluid in definition. "I'm still somewhat undecided. Emergency medicine, most likely, though I do find surgery to be an interesting field." Intense, with the added bonus of patience usually being sedated.
—-
"They usually were. When they discovered that you weren't, you might have well been mud on the heels of their very expensive Prada shoes." A light lift of her shoulders in a shrug. Clearly she doesn't seem to have been terribly affected by the state of affairs there, "I would imagine you'd never have a slow moment, if you went into emergency medicine, though you have to deal with all of those angry people waiting for service in the ER. I imagine it would make your job even more stressful that it would be to begin with. At least in surgery, there would be no one to bother you but yourself. At least until the procedure was over."
—-
"Yes, well, people are entirely too enamoured of fame these days. When individuals are famous for being famous, it makes me wonder what the world has come to." Not that Tasha ever really approved of her fellow man, but some of these things are just ridiculous. "I can handle angry individuals, but yes, I must admit, I'd rather not. Still, it does have its … advantages." It would be harder to be of immediate use to the Pack, hidden away in the OR. "Though they do tend to frown upon it when you routinely anaesthetize your patients in the emergency room." It's spoken in a wry, deadpan way, making it hard to tell whether or not she's joking.
—-
"I would venture to say not very much," is Mignonette's answer to the comment on fame, "It always surprises me when I hear about people who have fame or money being role models. Not that I know many of those personally, in terms of the sort that live in LA, but growing up in what could be considered high society, I can tell you that people with money can be just as terrible as those without, if not moreso, because they use their money as insulation from taking responsibility for their actions. "Closer to the door when you need to make a run for it?" Laughter follows, and a nod, as she finishes her coffee, easily setting the cup aside, "But wouldn't you just love to give into the temptation sometimes?"
—-
"I suppose they are role models if one desires to grow up to also be rich and famous, which seems to be the leading goal in society these days," Tasha points out with a little shrug. It's never been an aim of hers. "Fame rarely seems to be good for people. And it's amazing how little it can take." She considers the point of that particular advantage of emergency medicine, canting her head to one side to grant it. "There is that, yes." She follows in also downing the last of her coffee, after swilling the drags, watching them circle the bottom of the cup and then tossing them back. "Nearly always," she admits without any real shame. She sets her cup down before giving an efficient nod. "Now, I really should be going." No rest for the wicked.
—-
"Apparently one can become famous by stubbing your toe in exactly the right location." There's a slight shake of her head. Mignonette has made no attempt to hide the fact that she grew up in what people would consider a life of privilege, but she seems mostly unaffected by it, "I'll be sure to make certain I'm on my best behavior then, if ever I get to the ER and you're working." A flash of a smile, before Mignonette steps down from the pub table, "Of course, Dr. Cox, I won't keep you any longer than I already have. Thank you again for making a housecall for me, and for offering me your company tonight." Her tone and demeanour are genuine, "I'll see you to the door."
—-
"Thank heavens we've passed those heathen days when one had to show some modicum of talent before fame would follow," Tasha replies with a roll of her eyes. "Yes, I would recommend it," she agrees, as to being on one's best behaviour when she's working the ER. She's probably joking, but sometimes it can be hard to tell with her deadpan delivery. She gives a nod then, moving to stand smoothly herself. "Of course. It was nice to meet you," she comments, having to ponder herself how true that statement is. In spite of herself, she's almost let her guard down. But there's simply another nod, before she gestures for Mignonette to lead on then, and she moves to collect her things.
—-
"Who needs talent, after all," said with no small amount of sarcasm. Mignonette waits until Tasha has unseated herself, before she'll move to lead the way through the kitchen, the fastest route back to the dining room, pausing to allow Tasha to collect her bag and make certain everything is in order. "And you as well. I do hope we'll see each other again soon, though hopefully, under less unpleasant circumstances." The door is unlocked, held open, "Remember what I said, if ever you need something, don't hesitate to contact me."
—-
The bag is picked up along the way, and slung back over her shoulder as Tasha follows along on the route out. "I'm sure that can be arranged. This has certainly set the bar high enough in that regard," she comments, at least on the unpleasantness of the circumstances. Provided neither one of them gets brutally attacked in the near future, it shouldn't be too hard to arrange that. She moves forward to step out over the threshold with a little nod of acknowledgement. "I'll remember, thank you. Have a good evening." With that, she turns to go, digging out her keys as she does.
—-
"I can only hope to fall short the next time around." Mignonette remains at the door, even as Tasha steps through, "Good evening, Dr. Cox." She'll move into the doorway, once the good doctor begins to make her way to the car. She'll stay that way, until she's certain that Tasha is safely inside her vehicle. Common courtesy when guests are leaving your house, or a bit of some of the paranoia in the city rubbing off on her who knows. Either way, the door won't be closed until she sees the car started and Tasha on her way.
