[Action/Dictated ~ A Rest day

[atadiscoverer]

[Dr. Beckett is sitting on a couch in the lobby. He's not dressed in his lab coat, as usual, instead dressed causally, and looking a bit bored.]

Does anyone here know of any good fishing spots around here?

Or does anyone want to do something? I find myself a wee bit bored today. I'll be in the lobby.

Comments

[atadiscoverer]

Y'know, this is how wars start. [He comments.] Challenging folk to stuff.

[He flashes Connor a grin, before inhaling and managing to down that pint, in one.]

[shepherdsveritas]

[That looks like a challenge. Connor grins before downing his own pint. He slams it to the bar and gestures for two more.]

Wars and friendships, aye?

[atadiscoverer]

Aye.

[He then eyes Connor.]

How're ye healing up, lad?

[shepherdsveritas]

[He smiled] Jus' fine, thanks. 'Snot like they were anythin' too bad, anyway. Nothin' life threatenin'

[atadiscoverer]

Aye, well you still lost a lot of blood. Take it easy on the booze.

[He holds up a hand to stem any complaints.] Doctor's orders.

[shepherdsveritas]

Tch. Don't worry 'bout me. [He grins] Half my blood's Guinness 'n whiskey anyway.

[atadiscoverer]

That's more'n enough reason to worry, then. [Carson seems to be taking his time with this pint. His accent also seems to be getting a wee bit broader.]

[shepherdsveritas]

[Connor's about halfway through his pint before he gestures at Carson, pointing with the hand holding the glass]

Don'cha know that Guinness has healing properties?

[atadiscoverer]

If it does, than I'm the bloody Queen Mother. [Ah, someone else he can use British jokes on.]

Unless it replaces blood cells, yer still a wee bit screwed.

[shepherdsveritas]

[Connor exaggerates a bow]

Well then it's a pleasure t'meet you, yer Majesty. Care t'join me fer a drink? [He cracks up]

[atadiscoverer]

[Carson drinks down his pint and motions for them to keep coming.]

You still wouldn't listen t'me even if I was bloody royalty.

[shepherdsveritas]

I don't know. Maybe we should get y'a crown and find out!

[He cracks up, finishing his own drink and gesturing for another one]

[atadiscoverer]

Nah, I doubt I'd make a good king. I'm only a barely decent doctor after all.

[Understatement of the century, but you get the feeling that Carson means it.]

[shepherdsveritas]

Barely decent my arse. [Connor claps him on the shoulder] You've done a damn fuckin' fine job so far.

[When the next round comes he takes a sip and looks Carson over]

An' if y'put on one'a yer wee skirts y'could be Queen! [This is clearly the funniest thing he's said all night, he's laughing hysterically]

[atadiscoverer]

[Carson is about to respond when Connor makes that crack. He shoves the Irishman in the side.]

Aw, Gi'e over, ye wee bastard. At least we dinnae hae' tae fight the bloody sheep for room and women.

[shepherdsveritas]

[Connor laughs and shoves him right back. You're lucky that's his uninjured side, man.]

Oi! Fuck off y'fuckin' Jockie. Don' think we don' know why y'wear them kilts.

[atadiscoverer]

Oh, aye? Whysat, then?

[He folds his arms.]

C'mon. Enlighten me wi' ye vast intellect, Mr. McBulletmagnet.

[shepherdsveritas]

[He stands up, holding his hands about waist width apart in front of him and thrusting]

So's y'have easy access to th'sheep! [He LOSES it, laughing hysterically]

[atadiscoverer]

Aye? And I suppose your kilts are for an entirely different reason.

[He grins]

Unless ye tha' far from ye roots ye forgot that wee aspect. [He tuts.]

[shepherdsveritas]

[Connor thumps Carson on the back as he sits back down and picks up his pint]

Aye, 'least we don't still fuckin' wear 'em!

[atadiscoverer]

At least we aren't traitors to tradition. [Carson quips back immediately.]

[shepherdsveritas]

Fuck off traitors. If we're fuckin' traitors fer not wearin them faggy little skirts no more then that's fine by me.

[atadiscoverer]

[There's a delay in this retort as Carson stares at the half-pint he has left.]

At least my arse doesn't look big in everything.

[Yes, that is said rather sulkily.]

[shepherdsveritas]

[Connor's slightly beer fogged mind may have taken that statement a wee bit differently than it was intended.]

Oi! Are y'sayin' my ass is fat?

[atadiscoverer]

[Carson lazily tosses some peanuts at him.]

Aye. And y'ears need a decent cleanin', too.