Reina McClaine-Hawthorne It's been a terrible ache in my shoulder. Terrible. It's made me want to refrain from things I normally would do. I haven't gotten the opportunity to remove the bullet, and it doesn't seem that my body wants to get rid of it any time soon. I find myself strolling past a bar I usually frequent on nights like this, well I plan on strolling past it, purse in hand, wearing something I might wear to work, before the blood hits the fan. I pause, listen to the cavorting within. The music. The drinking. I sigh and rest my right hand upon my left shoulder, and I give my head a shake. I could come right out and go to the hospital, they know me for what I am, but...do I really want to let them know what I do on the side?   Logan™ "Thanks fer the money boys," Logan chuckled as he stepped into the street, his eyes momentarily narrowing as the bright streetlight harshly contrasted the dim bar light to which he had become accustomed. In so doing he almost bumped into a young woman, "'scuse me, miss," he said as he instinctively reached out to grab her shoulder to steady her.   Reina McClaine-Hawthorne Rough hand grabs a delicate shoulder. One that's already sore. I can feel the bullet grinding itself a new resting spot. I hiss in a breath. I squint a bit, and I lean to pull my shoulder from him. No, that's not conspicuous at all. "Aye...et's no'a problem.." My accent is there, waving the Scottish flag for him. I put my hand to my shoulder again and try not to move it too much. I have to get that bullet out of there.   Logan™ Sniff. Sniff. Something changed. Something changed about this woman when he touched her shoulder. He withdrew but took a step back, and craned his neck down so he could look into her eyes. "You alright?" He paused, and continued, "And before you say yes, I know something's wrong...call it...intuition," he smiled just a hint of a smile... He glances to her hand reactively going to her shoulder. Instinct. It told him she was wounded and that she needed help...and that every minute it remained untreated could cause her further harm. "Have you seen a doctor about that?" He gestured to her shoulder.   Reina McClaine-Hawthorne "..I am a doctor.." The kindness drains from my voice for a moment, but I have to let it filter back in. He has a kind half smile at any rate, and a concern for others. Makes him more like me, I suppose. It's just very difficult to cut into your own shoulder when your skin keeps advancing on your work. "Et's jes'...difficult..ta operate on yerself.." I glance off to the right, setting my jaw, sighing a bit. It really won't be alright, it takes time for things in there to heal, and the more that bullet swims around, the more useless my arm will get. "...I jes'..cannae waltz en there...lettin' people know...whut I do..."   Logan™ Huh. At least I can empathize with her predicament. I've gotta say I've been there myself, so I probably appreciate it more than most. "You know I might be able to help; I ain't a surgeon, not even close, but I've patched a few scrapes in my day." The tone of his voice suggests a familiarity with such things...a pervasive familiarity.   Reina McClaine-Hawthorne "Aye?" I wasn't far from home. I had the supplies. It's not like he'd hurt me, deeply. I then narrow my eyes some, in an expression that boasts familiarity. I offer my hand to him, and I cant my head to the left. "I thenk I know ye...ye look awfully familiar...m'name's Reina...Reina McClaine-Hawthorne.." In some circles. "..or..ye can' call me Saint."   Logan™ "Yeah," he nodded grimly. Things...hadn't gone well this past year. He'd patched up more people than he'd care to remember without Jean around. "Saint?" He nodded after he asked questioningly. "Saint. I'm Logan. I'd offer my hand but...I ain't sure y'can shake it well enough t'make it worthwhile." "What happened to yeh?"   Reina McClaine-Hawthorne He's right. I shouldn't do that really. It might only move the bullet more. Scrape against bone. Tear up the socket. The images coming to my mind aren't pretty ones. Not even close to being pretty ones. "Ah..well I though' I was..comin' upon a scuffle...when et was jes' some..wackado weth a penchant fer makin' noise...'e got tha better o'me..an I got a bullet en tha shoulder before I was able'ta get 'im down." I clear my through, curtly, and I nod a bit. "Et's not wantin' ta come out."   Logan™ "Lemme guess. Right shoulder bullet, right handed doctor?" He waited for the answer before responding. "Well, regardless I might be able to help. You have a medical kit? It'd certainly help. Less damaging than just going in by hand," he nodded. "I'd offer my place, but I don't really live around here..."   Reina McClaine-Hawthorne "I lev close..an' aye. I got one.." Not like he'll need many bandages, but it may bleed some. I nod down the way, the direction I was headed. My car is sitting by the curb and I lift a brow as I pull out my keys. "..'ow can ye be sure I ain't gonna take ye to me place and violate ye in ways that migh' make yer mum cry?" I'm grinning, however, as I unlock the newer model sedan with the press of a button. Lights flash once and the interior lights come on. If he gets in, if he joins me, the music on the radio right now is piped in by satellite, classic rock. I care for all types of music, just nights like these where I'd rather be out, cavorting like those in the bar had been, it settles me some. I'd drive him north of the city, where homes got further apart...and larger. I'd take him through a gate I had to press an remote to open. It's sad, I think, that the grounds have become over grown, I haven't had my lawn mowed in ages. It reminds me of home, when ...there weren't lawn mowers. Where wild lived right outside your door. There was a pond across the drive from the doors, no fancy fountain. My home was surrounded by trees, shrubs and other wild flora. And I liked it that way.   Logan™ Logan raised a brow at her question...slightly perplexed. THEN he saw she was joking and he too contributed his chuckle. Raising three fingers in the air he said, "Scout's honor." "Nice place," he said as he glanced out the window. The trees and shrubs were overgrown but Logan got the feeling that was the intention. Natural. Without the interference of man. Logan somehow felt at peace with her decision to leave things overgrown. He stepped out of the car. "You live here...all by yerself?" Big house. He thought it; didn't say it. But thought it. He wondered if the mansion was bigger.   Reina McClaine-Hawthorne It probably was bigger then her home, but I don't use all parts of it anymore. I have halls and halls of rooms that are closed off, filled with endless boxes of things. Possessions that I don't use, or want really. I wonder about clearing it out, having a large auction, donate the proceeds to charity. I still have some of Drake's old baby clothes, and toys. I don't want to think about Drake, not now. My son. "Thank ye...I don' use all of et anymore...I've made meself a bet of an apartment, I suppose ye could say."   Logan™ "I was about t'say....all that space fer one person, seems a tad much," when she opened the door he stepped inside. "How deep did the bullet go?" He asked cautiously. If it were too deep or if it'd nicked bone he probably wouldn't feel comfortable messing with it. He has some field experience but...as he said...he isn't a surgeon. Reina McClaine-Hawthorne I lead him into the side door, into the kitchen. I don't much use the front doors, the foyer is pretentiously large, and mostly empty, It echoes like a vast cave. I dislike that room. I love the dining room, the kitchen, and the one room I use to sleep in. Ah yes, the foyer has exercise equipment, I'd almost forgotten. I lay my purse on the kitchen table, and I glance to him as I move to where I put my bag, I keep more than enough medical supplies in there, like any good doctor. It's not fashionable. It's not stylish. It's a plain black leather bag that closes at the top. It's rigid, it has places for things that are delicate. "No'too deep. I fear et may get deeper ef et's not dealt weth.." I set the bag on the kitchen table, then pull out a chair to sit in, unceremoniously unbuttoning the crisp white shirt I wear, under it lay a pretty little camisole, trimmed in lace. It isn't too showy, and it gives access to my shoulder, which is red in the spot where the bullet went in. Obvious for him to see really. "Usually..they ..come out by themselves..ef ya give 'em a while.."   Logan™ Logan's eyes pass subtly over the house as they enter. It's massive. "Always th' problem with bullets," Logan nodded in agreement, his brow furrowing just slightly. "They can be as innocent as anythin' if they're in the right spot...but th' wrong movement some time down the road can jar 'em an' put fragments inta yer bloodstream," Logan paused. "An' that's a bad scene..>as I'm sure y'can imagine..." "An' sometimes they still in there just t'be ornery," Logan flipped on a light and brought it over so he could examine her shoulder. "I know y'said you weren't partial t'doctors...but it'd probably be easier fer 'em t'take this outta ya..." Logan was slightly hesitant as he looked more closely at the wound.   Reina McClaine-Hawthorne "I am a doctor," I say bluntly to him, but there is a bit of tenderness about me. I have a good bed-side manner, just when I'm not being a pain or a trouble maker myself. "I cen tell ye whut'ta do, ye jes' 'aveta follow me'instructions." Which my instructions would be simple, cut over the bullet, use the tweezers to pull the bullet out, and let me heal. I turn to get out the scalpel and those said tweezers from my bag and I offer them to him. "Easily done, ye jes' cut over tha bullet, and pull et out with those, fast...before I 'eal over too soon."   Logan™ "Hey whoa," Logan held up his hands. "I've done this before; but it ain't like carving a pumpkin. There's flesh 'n muscle an' bone..." Logan nodded. "Yeh," Logan shook his head and grabbed the scalpel. "You got any booze?" "T'sterilize the blade?" Logan added quickly.   Reina McClaine-Hawthorne Booze doesn't do much for me, in fact I only keep it for guests. I glance to a cupboard near the sink, it's half open, but there's whiskey, bourbon, scotch, tequila, and vodka there, he had his choice. "In tha' cabine' next'ta the sink, on tha righ'." I sit down, and I wait, I know it's not simple, but the way I heal would make it simpler for him, the shoulder would be sore a few days, but it's not nothing I'm unused to. "Ef ye cut diagonally over tha bullet, ye won't be cuttin' apart a muscle as much as ye'd be partin' it slightly." A much easier heal.   Logan™ Logan left the scalpel on the table, and walked over to the cabinet; opening it quickly, he pulled out a bottle of whisky and grabbed a bowl. Putting the bowl on the table he cleaned off the scalpel. "This ain't gonna tickle," Logan said as he slowly began cutting diagonally over the wound as she instructed. His movement was slow; precise. He was taking great pains not to cut any extraneous flesh. Only revealing enough to get proper access to the bullet.   Reina McClaine-Hawthorne My flesh was trying to close around his cut. I hissed in a breath. What had happened was that it got behind that muscle there, and that muscle trapped it where it was, between it and the tendon coated bone. I hold that breath, he'll have to be quick about getting fingers or something in there to keep the flesh from sealing again not quite as fast as his, but close. "Damn et, " I mutter under my breath, and I keep my teeth clenched, but that was the only noise I'd make about it.   Reina McClaine-Hawthorne The worst part? The worst part is that I had to go to a stranger for this, I think as I glance down at my hand and then lift it up to my lips. My hand would do nicely, of course that pain might help distract me from him removing the bullet. I swore...I swore I wouldn't be a thief anymore. But how am I going to do that? That was my life. My thrill. And I got shot far less doing that than saving others. "A..alright," I mumble around my hand, I'm ready for it.   Logan™ Pushing the tweezers into the wound Logan's device makes quick work of the bullet, but it's caught and Logan winces slightly. "It's caught...I need to release it...and to do that I need my other hand," Logan reached for the hand that wasn't attached to her wounded shoulder. He placed it over the wound and manipulated her fingers so they were holding the wound open. Logan reached for the scalpel. "Bear with me...the bullet is caught," Logan exhaled slightly...   Reina McClaine-Hawthorne "Shyte," I mumble, shyte is right. I hold my breath, tears are stinging my eyes but I'm not about to cry. Not now, not ever. I steel myself up for it, and I wonder what it's caught on. I've seen and handled such cases in the ER, probably the tendon, or it could be worse. I forget about biting my hand, I would deal with the pain like a grown woman, and I would take it. I put myself into trouble now I was to get it out. "On wha'?" I ask, but if he doesn't know the medical terminology or what it is caught on, it might not do her any good to even ask.   Logan™ "I have no idea. It looks like it's tucked in behind a long bone going across the front of your shoulder. Not sure what the right name for it is," Logan said matter-of-factly. Logan used the scalpel to get in behind the bullet...and slowly...agonizingly...began teasing the bullet forward, he can't quite release it with the tweezers yet...but it's getting there. "Almost./...there..." Sweat was beginning to appear on his face; the stress of the situation starting to show on him in only that way. He'd been in situations like this before. He'd been in far worse.   Reina McClaine-Hawthorne "Collar Bone," I say in a near clinical tone of voice. I smirk at my own tone, well I smirk about as much as I can in this situation. My hair's pulled out of the way so it makes it easy for me to lean my head away, but that makes the muscle stretch that he's working on and it makes me whimper lightly. I still then, I don't want to move another muscle, especially where he's working. That would be...well it didn't feel so good. "N..no need ta 'urry."   Logan™ "Yeah, sounds right," Logan wasn't a doctor. He didn't even really know biology. But bullets...in people...is something he's quite familiar with. The tweezers click and wrap around the bullet, withdrawing it from the wound, the scalpel having leveraged the it out from behind her clavicle. He dropped it in the bowl, and pressed a clean towel against the now healing wound. "Not half bad."   Reina McClaine-Hawthorne I breathe out a sigh of relief as I feel the wound closing under the towel, the muscles relaxing back into their correct shape, all of it is working wonders. The absence of pain is the nicest feeling after having to endure it. "Thank ye." I put my hand over the towel and went to stand up, and of course, I am still rather close. "I..really appreciate et," I smile more softly, the wetting of my eyes is starting to clear. I'd have to buy him dinner for this.   Logan™ Logan waved his hand. "Ain't nothin'." He said succinctly. He did take a swig of the whisky though. "Aaaaah," Logan said satisfyingly. "Well," Logan looked around slightly awkwardly. "I'll be on my way. Careful where other people put there bullets," Logan chuckled slightly, letting her take over holding the towel to her shoulder.   Reina McClaine-Hawthorne "I could drive ye anywhere ye'd like?" He had driven my car here, it was either that or him walking home or to wherever his own car was. I smile a bit as I draw the towel away from my arm, wiping at my skin a bit to see the wound was sealed up and healing well. "Et wouldnae be a problem," I offer, and I nod to the whisky bottle. "An' ye can keep tha'. I don' much drink, et don't do me much good, and I 'aven't entertained in a while."   Logan™ Logan waves his hand, "Probably better ya don't drive. Keep yer shoulder in tight an' you'll heal a bit faster," Logan would know. "I just needed the one; thanks for the offer though," Logan chuckled and replaced the whisky in the cabinet. "Keep yerself outta trouble, now," Logan smiled and walked out.   Reina McClaine-Hawthorne That was another one to tell me to keep out of trouble, funny thing is, trouble finds me. I sigh as he leaves and I glance to my shoulder for a moment. "Now, where ded I put tha' wrap?"

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