I'm Not Clumsy, I'm Accident-Prone (Sophie)

[Nicholas Ward]

Walking away from a job site with a wad of paper towels pressed to his hand wasn't exactly an uncommon event for Nick. In fact, a day he walked away entirely unscathed was alarmingly rare. Most often his injuries were minor scrapes and bruises that were easily overlooked and carried home for Trevor to fuss over.

Today... he'd pulled an idiot move. Losing concentration as he'd tightened a screw above his head, his hand had slipped and he'd ended up jabbing himself in the palm with the pointed end of his screwdriver. A dent he could have ignored for the rest of the day, but blood wasn't so easily ignored. His supervisor had sent him off to have it looked at, and he'd obeyed like a good student.

Hopefully Sophie was on duty today. She always put up with his antics without making him feel like a complete idiot, and she even indulged him when he asked for stickers. Plus she was his friend, which probably contributed to his reasons as to why he had a preference for her to deal with his... mishaps.

After checking in at the clinic, showing off his fancy mini stab wound, and confirming that Sophie was indeed working, he flopped himself into a chair to wait.

[Sophie Tillman]

Sophie was a fan of appointments. She liked having some idea of how her day was going to unfold. It was a benefit of working at Dr. Roberts' clinic rather than in an emergency room, she found. But she had long since learned that some things couldn't always be planned for. Things like Nick Ward, for instance.

As Sophie approached the waiting room to collect her next patient, she was intercepted by one of the other nurses. Her coworker held out a hand for the clipboard she was carrying.

"I'll take Mrs. Gonzales," she told Sophie, "your walk-in is here."

"My walk-in?" Those weren't common here. But neither were patients that automatically got passed to her, and she strongly suspected she knew who it was. "Thanks, I better go get him before he bleeds all over the carpet." Sophie rolled her eyes as she handed over Mrs. Gonzales' file, but the corners of her mouth were already twitching in a smile; if it did turn out to be her favorite danger-prone handyman were something of a treat. And sure enough, when she strode into the waiting room, Nick was waiting for her.

"Well come on back," Sophie beckoned him with a wave, "let's get you back in one piece."

[Nicholas Ward]

Nick couldn't stick to a plan if you paid him - something he was sure drove everyone crazy, but he couldn't help it. His attention tended to wander, and that was exactly what tended to land him in situations like this.

He was entirely used to the looks most of the clinic staff gave him when he dropped by, and even more used to being pushed off on Sophie. It didn't bother him in the slightest. He wasn't even paying much attention to the rest of the staff at the moment. With the fingers on his injured hand folded over to keep the paper towel in place, his good hand was busy flinging cartoon birds all over the place on his phone.

When he heard Sophie's voice, he just about dropped his phone in surprise before grinning and shoving the device back in his pocket. "Hey Babe!" Lumbering to his feet, he made his way over to her, thankfully knowing better than grabbing for a hug. Hugs were for outside work, not during work, as he'd been told numerous times. "So I stabbed myself." With Sophie, he allowed a hint of pride to reflect in his voice, rather than the slight guilt that often reared up when he told Trevor about any accumulated injuries. "With a screwdriver." An unreasonable amount of pride. "Don't tell me I need another tetanus shot." Despite the tiny whine, he still offered a winsome smile to his favourite nurse. Sophie always knew what to do.

[Sophie Tillman]

A casual observer of the scene might have expected that once Nick had drawn himself up to full height, he might tower above Sophie, as much larger in build as he was. Instead, their only height difference amounted to the soles of their shoes - his heavy workboots, her comfortable green Crocs (which nurses had every right to wear without judgment, thank you very much). Sophie, on the other hand, sometimes couldn't believe he'd made it past five feet tall.

"Let me take a look at it and I'll decide what mood I'm in," she told him, while she ushered him out of the waiting room. She didn't need Nick giving the actual children in the waiting room scary ideas about what sort of needly horrors lay beyond. Instead Sophie led him to the nearest open exam room, where she dropped the faux stern air and crossed her arms over her chest. "Stabbed with a screwdriver... This one I've gotta hear."

[Nicholas Ward]

Nick's height was a sore spot, thank you very much. He constantly spewed whining at his parents, as well as his twin brother, and had since Taylor had crested six feet tall, leaving Nick doomed to being, in his mind, tiny. For a guy, anyway. He'd take any minute advantage he could get, be it thick soled boots or simply standing on the next step above whoever he might be with at the time. Childish? Never!

In an oddly obedient move Nick willingly followed Sophie into the room. He'd been in and out of clinics and occasionally hospitals so often that very little of it bothered him anymore. Hell, he and Taylor had practically grown up in their father's veterinary clinic, and really, animals weren't so different.

Seeing Sophie relax a little, Nick grinned at her. Stories behind his idiocy were his specialty. Twisting his good hand in his short ponytail, he adopted one of his patented puppy dog looks. Much like when Tesla chewed a shoe and proceeded to look very, very sorry about it, yet still a tiny bit proud. "Weeeelllll. I was tightening screws all above my head, and I was doing it like a rockstar. Aaaand then I heard a dog barking and tried to look for it.... aaaand my hand slipped. And boom, stabbed myself." Trevor was probably going to kill him for this. Like usual. "Wanna see?" With that, he peeled back the paper towel. The puncture wasn't particularly large or deep, but man it had bled. "Scale of one to ten, how dead am I? And how dead am I gonna be when Trev sees it?" At least his fiancé could fix it better once he was home. When he stopped making the cranky face.

[Sophie Tillman]

Sophie nodded along patiently and reached for the tissue box-looking container of rubber gloves as she listened. Stabbed with a screwdriver... not what she'd consider a good day, but it was Nick they were talking about. He'd survive. When he peeled away the paper towel and offered his hand for inspection, Sophie snapped on her gloves and carefully took his hand in both of hers.

"I gotta clean it up for a better look, but right now I put it at a three," she told him. It looked a mess, sure, but Sophie had a feeling he hadn't done any damage to his nerves or tendons; Nick could be pretty blasé about his injuries but even he would notice that kind of hurt. Next step was the long Q-tips and the peroxide, which she used to dab around the edges of the hole itself. She wanted most of that blood gone before passing judgment.

"But what I wanna know," Sophie said, a hint of that sternness returning, "is what you're gonna do after your journeyman's. A lotta homes have dogs in 'em, Nick, we can't have you stabbing yourself and fallin' off of ladders every time you meet one."

[Nicholas Ward]

Any day Nick hadn't lost a digit or a limb, broken a bone, or electrocuted himself was a good day in his world. He was well aware of the potential for damage his chosen field offered. In the grand scheme of things, a light stab wasn't anything to cry about. He just watched with the same passive curiosity he always did as Sophie took his hand. There might have been a time he would have flirted with her in a position like this, but the ring on his finger always reminded him to curb those urges and behave himself.

"Three? Aww man, I thought it was at least a five." Because apparently the bigger the number, the more fun it was. But as the blood disappeared, it slowly looked less... serious. Three was probably a good number. At least for dying. As for how dead he'd be with Trevor? Considering how he'd done it in the first place, he'd wager probably closer to a seven. At the very least, he'd be treated to the cranky face.

At first Nick was eager to answer any question Sophie had, but the moment the word 'Journeyman' passed her lips, he mentally squirmed and frowned a little. He didn't want to talk about his Journeyman ticket, because it was a touchy subject. To him, anyway. He pretended that it wasn't to everyone around him, but that was mostly to keep everyone off of his case. He'd do his ticket when he was good and ready. ... Or in a panic as his time ran out, which it was starting to. He'd been in the field just over a year and a half, and time was starting to slip away. Why couldn't he be like Taylor? All big-shot like with his fancy school stuff. Tay was good at school. Nick... was not. Carefully, he tried to sidestep the question. "I'll just be more careful. AND! Dogs. Tesla and Sandy need a play date. This weekend maybe?" Dogs were obviously the best distraction ever.

[Sophie Tillman]

It was a shame Nick was as clumsy at dodging questions as he apparently was at tightening screws. Sophie's lips pressed into a thin line as she continued dabbing. Maybe bringing it up was a bad idea; she knew how sensitive the subject was to him. But it was sensitive because it was important. Nick knew she was rooting for him, they all were. And despite the assorted bangs and bumps he came to her with, Sophie wanted to be confident that he would pass with flying colors. Some people might even argue that it meant he was resilient, and she couldn't deny that, but that didn't stop her worrying that one of these days she'd get a call from Trevor saying he'd fried himself to a crisp on an exposed wire or something.

This desire to keep Nick in one piece was what furrowed Sophie's brow when she looked back up to meet his big ridiculous puppy eyes. Fortunately she'd had plenty of experience being stern with him.

"I'll make you a deal," she told him. "Bring Tesla 'round this weekend, but you gotta bring a study guide or flashcards or something, too. Bring a two-by-four and a bunch of nails, I don't care, but we'll practice."

[Nicholas Ward]

It was no secret that Nick was a terrible liar. As such, he tended to try lying by omission. It... sort of worked. Sometimes. If Sophie's face was anything to go by, clearly he wasn't doing as well as he'd hoped. He'd known her long enough to know that expression. It wasn't like he lacked skill in the field. Sure, he got distracted from time to time and mishaps happened, but in general he knew what he was doing. It was just the school element. Using formulas and doing math and having to make a certain grade to pass... He had no idea how Taylor had handled the pressure, and he was a damn animal doctor now. Asshole.

He continued to watch her dab around the little hole, too used to these kinds of injuries to be overly bothered or in pain over it. It was sore, sure, but that was normal.

Her offer of a deal was first met with an excited expression, but it quickly turned to dismay. "But I'm not even back in school yet! I don't know what to study." Okay, he could probably drag out his first year notes, but he wasn't sure how helpful they'd be. ... Or where they were. Probably shoved into the deepest, darkest corner under a bed, or in a closet. "I'm on the list, Sophs. I swear." It was the same lie he'd told his parents... Trevor... his boss... and it was only a little lie. He had intentions of being on the list. Really. "And hammering nails isn't ladylike. And I'll have two dogs being distracting. And I'm broken. So how about we skip studying this weekend and play with the dogs instead?" It seemed totally reasonable to him. Now if only Sophie would agree. If not, he'd just have to try another distraction tactic.

[Sophie Tillman]

Sophie's eyes slid from the hole in his hand to his transparent face and back while she listened to him ramble, one eyebrow cocked dubiously. Every single excuse was bogus - he knew it, she knew it, he knew she knew it. After some of the stunts she'd seen Nick pull with bigger bustups slowing him down? On a good day, a tiny hole in his hand would never stop him doing what he wanted. Same with the "ladylike" bit - when was the last time an appeal to her womanhood had gotten him off the hook? Heck, when was the last time he'd ever tried it sincerely? But it all amounted to the same thing: If Sophie let it go, it would be because he'd asked her to, not because he'd convinced her. 

"I'll have you know Sandy is so well-behaved he and Tesla should count as one an' a half dogs," Sophie answered loftily. "Like you're on easy mode for your hand." Satisfied that Nick's injury was properly cleaned, she turned to dispose of the Q-tips and reached for a package of small cotton pads. But when she turned back to Nick, the return of a smile was already peeking at the edges of her lips. "How 'bout this - the light in my laundry room's been actin' up. Take a look at it this weekend and then we can play with the dogs."

Sophie made a mental note to unscrew the lightbulb in her laundry room a few turns. Nick could sweat a little about what was actually wrong with it before he got there.

[Nicholas Ward]

Sophie was right. Hell, Nick had once broken his arm trying a skateboard stunt when he was twelve, and minutes after he'd gotten home from the hospital he'd been out again trying the same thing before his mother had caught him and hauled him inside, as well as hidden the damn thing. A small hole wasn't going to slow him down much, no, but he didn't want to admit that. Not when he was trying so hard to get Sophie to drop it.

"One and a half is still more than one," he countered, knowing full well that it wasn't going to do much. Sophie was clearly on a roll, and he probably wasn't going to escape this. Somehow when it came to his avoidance of school, she was worse than Trevor. How, he didn't know, but she was.

Her offer caught his interest, mostly because he liked troubleshooting things. It was like a game - Why Does The Thing Not Work. Glad to leave the idea of school behind, he switched out of pouting and into his happier, borderline flirting mode. "Aww. You just wanna see me all sexy in my toolbelt." Teasing Sophie while she had control of his injured hand probably wasn't the best idea, but he couldn't help himself. His natural mode was firmly in goofball territory, and shifting from that was hard. "Deal."

[Sophie Tillman]

"Oh Nick, you know what a man with a pair of pliers does to me," Sophie teased back. A little tape to hold the cotton pad in place, a couple loops around his hand with the roll of gauze, and Nick's hand was looking better already. "There - 's not too deep so the bleedin' should stop by tonight, but check on it when you change it in a few hours. Have Trevor remind you." Nick wouldn't have to come back to the clinic for that; she knew there was a first aid kit at his apartment because she'd put it there.

"I'd avoid grippin' stuff too hard with that hand for a few days," Sophie instructed matter-of-factly, "but you should be back in business by the end of the week. So." She recrossed her arms over her chest, voice hardening a touch. Overall it had been a quick visit, which meant Sophie still had a little while to harangue him before letting him go. "What's your plan at that point?"

It wasn't that she enjoyed seeing Nick squirm - although sometimes, yes, she definitely did - but he seemed to think he was in the clear for today. Sometimes it helped to just remind him she was paying attention and hadn't been duped yet.

[Nicholas Ward]

Nick smirked proudly. "I knew it." Sophie was his friend, and there was no way he'd go further than his flirtatious remarks. They both knew it was play. Especially when his pinky almost reflexively went to touch the ring on his left hand. He loved Trevor. But he loved Sophie too, in an almost brotherly way. It was part of why he was so protective of her. (The other part was that she was a girl, but he knew her feelings on saying that.) Watching as she patched him up, he gingerly flexed his fingers to test them. Everything still seemed to work okay. "Trev'll probably just bio-whatsit it better. You know him." Trevor couldn't stand to see him hurt. Even papercuts or bruises got healed lightning fast at their house, whether Nick wanted him to or not. Yes it was handy, but when Trevor ended up feeling whatever pain Nick was? Not so cool.

Still, he listened. Healed or not, it was probably best to actually pay attention to what he was doing for the next few days and be extra careful. He could only imagine the lectures he'd be subjected to from Sophie if he turned up twice in one week.

Her question made him tilt his head curiously. "... Plan?" He honestly had no idea what she meant by that. "Uhh... be... more... careful?" He sounded out his answer one word at a time, his brain flipping into overdrive. Hopefully that was right.

[Sophie Tillman]

Sophie sighed, an exasperated puff from her nostrils. She'd been referring to his studies, but apparently she hadn't been clear. Just as well, she supposed. She'd already conceded to a dog visit this weekend; she probably wouldn't make much more headway on the subject.

"Well, that's a start," she conceded. "But I swear, you needta start telling me before Trevor when you get roughed up like this. Give the poor man a break, you hear?"

If only Nick would be more careful; his first line of defense was a biological manipulator who frankly had enough to deal with without adopting all of his various aches and pains. The most Sophie risked during an average Nicholas Ward visit was pulling a muscle rolling her eyes. Trevor, though - Trevor she rarely saw at the clinic, although she knew from her talks with Nick how he could get about healing. 

Maybe as a wedding present she would gift them an industrial-sized roll of bubble wrap.

[Nicholas Ward]

Nick knew that expression well. He just... couldn't quite place why she was doing it in the first place. He'd thought he'd answered her question appropriately, but it was very possible he was mistaken too. He wasn't always the best judge of what people meant.

"Nnnggggh." The noise he made was less of a protest and more of an elongated, quiet groan. "It's not my fault he's a big protective spaz." He couldn't even keep Trevor from healing papercuts, let alone the bigger stuff. Like his hand, which would probably be gone by the time he went to bed if his fiance had anything to say about it. "He wouldn't leave it alone if you paid him, you know." Nick had no issue healing the normal way. He'd done it for years before meeting Trevor. But Trevor didn't have the same opinion.

Eyeing his friend, he flexed his fingers again. "Does that mean I get to go?" He'd endured a lecture, and his hand was fixed. Ish.