tampered | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

When; Thursday, June 7th (much earlier in the day than 11 PM)
Rating; PG... ish? I'm guessing?
Characters; James Wilson [

dr_conscience], Olivia Dunham [

entangles], Eames [

signatures]
Summary; Ever wonder what Eames' brain looks like? Well, Olivia has, and she intends to find out. Enter, a doctor.
Log;

After a day of treating fractures, sprains, and the other assorted results of a city full of untrained and, for a certain percentage, unfit citizens attempting to execute urban acrobatics, Wilson certainly welcomes the break in the monotony that today's scheduled test is certain to provide. Of course, he'd already been looking forward to it - he's curious, though he's being careful to stop short of actually letting himself hope that they'll find anything conclusive.

In nearly three years - or well over three, if he counts his initial stay - of time in the City, of course he's seen a number of neural CT scans performed without finding anything particularly unusual. He'll allow that none that he can recall were performed with this sort of purpose in mind, nor is he certain whether any of the patients whose scans he'd seen had left and returned, as Eames has. But he's been here too long, and been through far too much that's defied explanation thus far, to actually hope for answers to start presenting themselves.

But, there's no harm in performing a routine, noninvasive diagnostic test, and if they were to learn anything, it would certainly be for everyone's benefit. If they don't, then they won't have lost anything. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, after all - there's usually a reason cliches become such.

So, as his reserved time with the scanner nears, he files away the paperwork he's working on and heads to meet Olivia and Eames. He tries to stifle any excitement; it's just a CT scan, James, and you are not getting your hopes up. There is really no reason to feel like an investigative badass.

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In the past few years, the word 'far-fetched' had quickly lost its meaning after encountering case after case of the absurd. The possibility of implanted devices disrupting memories, distorting perceived reality itself, had already been proved possible Olivia's world, where a modern day Jekyll and Mr. Hyde had fed on the dreams of his patients using a brain implant intended to treat insomnia. So when Eames proposed the theory that a device could be the source of their inevitable memory loss, it seemed plausible, and at this point, Olivia is desperate enough to give anything a try, even if that meant working with a man she barely trusted. No, not you, Dr. Wilson.

If anything, their investigation is a small, but direct revolt against the deities by showing that they wouldn't simply sit back and accept the rules of this place. Olivia, at least, was determined to find a way out. She didn't consider it impossible, not when she had already crossed over into another universe-- twice. And the deities? According to her logic, it seems likelier that they were crazed scientists rather than Gods. Putting it that way made them and the City seem far more palatable.

It's early afternoon when Olivia pushes through the glass doors of the hospital and heads into the lobby, vaguely explaining to the receptionist that she's here to meet Dr. Wilson. Crossing her arms, she waits, keeping an eye out for both men.

Eames is, generally speaking, a private person. Even were he not an international criminal of sorts it would be mostly the same distinction - what he observes in other people he'd rather not people catch on in himself, prefering an easy veil of conversation or simply avoidance altogether if need be that puts everyone at a distance unless he truly trusts them. Though to be honest, it's not entirely a matter of trust either - just the fortunate happenstance of not really liking most people he meets or otherwise comes to know. Eames is so intensely private that submitting to an experimental scan may come to a surprise - except not to himself, obviously, it's not that the entire City will come to know his secrets just by a simple scan, and even the majority of the things he keeps close to his chest aren't technically illegal in the City in the first place.

Besides, what would they even do, put him on house arrest again?

In any case, Eames is on time. He's not sure what exactly they'll find - thinks that he would know if someone had socketed a metal wrench into his brain for one reason or another, headaches or otherwise, the City isn't without dealing its fair share of scars and it seems hard enough to cover up a lobotomy, let alone implanting something into the brain itself. But there are other ways to get to memories, as far as Eames knows, even if he may not know all of them or very many aside from the "magic" presenting itself in this place; Tessa could access his by copying his form and touching his pocketwatch, and that wasn't nearly so intrusive as surgery.

He enters the lobby not long after Olivia, a casual swing to his step with his hands folded neatly in the deep pockets of his loose trousers. As Olivia is who he sees first, he picks his way over to her. It must kill her, working in conjunction with him and their very different philosophies on just about everything - and were he a bit of a more desperate man, he might reap pleasure from it, but for the time being there's only a thin gleam of amusement, as is Eames' general default.

He makes his way down to the lobby quickly and purposefully, managing not to trip and catch himself in any conversations on the way. When he does step out of the elevator, he spots Olivia and Eames immediately and makes his way across to them.

There's something that feels deceptively mundane about this, walking over to greet them so they can perform a simple test - something so perfectly routine, whether here in the City or back in the far more banal land of New Jersey. If they do find anything, of course... well, Eames isn't the only one of them who's made a return trip. But there's no sense getting ahead of himself, not when he isn't even expecting to find anything.

"I hope you haven't been waiting too long?" The greeting is perfectly casual - courteous and professional as always. He's certainly not eager to call any attention to their intentions, not yet.

Despite her mistrust of Eames, Olivia gives none of it away when Eames enters the scene. As a FBI agent, she has had to collaborate with unsavory characters before, and Olivia has yet to deem Eames unsavory; she's only instinctively suspicious of him even though she lacks any credible reason to doubt the Englishman. It's a gut feeling, spurred on by the friction of two contrary individuals-- the FBI agent who would sacrifice herself to save the world, and the international criminal who sees the world as his oyster. But she gives none of her mistrust away, feigning congeniality with a slight, polite nod and the meeting of eyes as Eames makes his way up to her.

"You showed up," Olivia teases.

And as soon as she says that, the good doctor also makes his entrance, walking up to them in that decorum of professional and geniality that Olivia always appreciates. Usually, when she enters hospitals, there's always the vague presence of hostility, or at least defensiveness toward the FBI agent who just barged her way into the hospital and past several security clearances with the flash of her badge. In this instance, however, the three of them are equal partners in a mystery just waiting to be solved.

She lifts a hand to shake his, a mirror to his own professionalism.

"Hello, Dr. Wilson. We actually just arrived," she answers, glancing briefly at Eames, "But if you're ready now, I'd like to get this done as quickly as possible."

Incisive and impatient as ever, Miss Dunham.

Edited (typooos ) 2012-06-10 21:27 (UTC)

Of course he showed up - he's just as much invested in the results as either of them. Still, he quirks his mouth at the presence of one Mister Jimmy Wilson, Doctor extraordinare. Whereas he knows, in general, Olivia's feelings toward him without necessarily having to have a conversation about it - it was obvious enough one o their first few interactions concerning her going about attempting to save everyone in the desert, he has had very little contact with Dr. Wilson, apart from his thrown together party also in said sandlands.

"She says, as though she's the one ready to submit herself to her parts being poked about," Eames toys with her in turn, brows raising in her general direction before focusing more fully on the good doctor again. "But she is right - we've not been here a full five minutes. You're certainly a prompt one, Jimmy. Though I did want to inquire as to the cost for the procedure itself."

Mostly to see whether or not Olivia is determined to pay for him, honestly.

Naturally, he takes Olivia's proffered hand and shakes it, a slight smile to accompany. He doesn't know either of them that well, yet, though he tentatively leans towards liking them both, in extremely different ways. Certainly the one whose tenacious sense of duty you respect is in a different category than the one you primarily exchange sarcastic quips about the City with on the Network. To say there's more to each of them than he's aware of goes without saying; it's true of all people, to some extent, and all the more for a couple of acquaintances in an alternate dimension where he frequently feels like a minority for not being some variety of superhuman.

He does, however, frown slightly at Jimmy. Not his favorite nickname - though he doesn't say anything about it. It's not important presently, and since Eames goes directly into the inquiry, he instead focuses on that. He glances around, making sure nobody's too close within earshot.

"You don't need to worry about the cost. The City actually has a surprisingly efficient healthcare system and this is clearly a simple, and necessary, preventative scan - the sort that's covered."

Curiosity's power to influence someone into pulling strings cannot be overestimated.

"Free healthcare? They're remarkably considerate for kidnappers," she says with a short laugh, so short that you'd wonder if Olivia had actually made a joke at all. To her, this experiment is a matter of business, hence her forcefulness. Her impatience, however, is a constant personality trait, regarldess of the situation." Turning back to Eames, she addresses him again. "From what I can tell, there will hardly be any poking, Eames. You're going for scans, not a vivisection."

She says it as if she were the doctor. Really, Olivia. Hopefully Doctor Jimmy won't take annoyance to how you're asserting yourself.

"I assume you've told no one else about this," she inquires, a hard edge to her voice

Saviors, for some, Eames notes mildly to himself. It's easy enough to recall the visions of worlds destroyed and the tantalizing idea of safety, that things here could be much worse. Ultimately, still, it's not the place Eames wants to stay - at least, not for very long stretches of time, as is his current record. He's rather surprised at being covered, too, but takes it in stride well enough - distracted by Olivia's tone and tossing her a look.

"If you wanted to keep it a secret, you wouldn't look so ready to take either of us down a notch in a public space." Not that Eames has - he will later, though. He goes on to let his hand fall on Jimmy's shoulderblade, though, tapping in mild comraderie. "Lead on, then, Doctor Jim, I've still got plans for lunch."

For his part, Wilson would be closer to characterizing the City Olivia's way than Eames'; his own experiences have left him feeling a bit less magnanimous about the deities, and whatever other entities they may or may not answer to. However, he's certainly more open to alternative theories than most, and after being here so long, he's found enough of a bright side to hang onto - even if he doesn't trust much as far as the City itself is concerned. (If only he knew what awaited him back home, he might be happier here.)

He's hardly surprised at Olivia's assertiveness, of course. From even their first, most basic interactions, it was an immediately apparent trait.

"Well, I was going to issue a staffwide bulletin, but thought the better of it." It's sass, sure, but it's not the biting variety, and he does offer a small smile and add in a far more earnest tone, "No. I haven't told anyone."

Though any interesting results may, of course, warrant sharing. He can think of at least one person who'd be interested in any puzzle that might present itself. At the tap, he does glance to Eames with one slightly quirked brow, that slight smile still in place, and gives a slight incline of his head to indicate the direction in which he steps a moment later.

"We do have a reservation to keep. The automated staff hate it when schedules get thrown off."

And so the good doctor Jimmy ushers the Forger and the Agent in the direction of the exam room, and Olivia spends the walk in preoccupied silence as her mind runs a mile a minute. No more cute remarks to Mr. Eames, for now. If they found an implant, or an alteration to the mind, it would imply that none of this was magic, and that all the ludicrous phenomena that occurred in these past months could be explained, even if the explication would likely fly over Olivia's head. But that disparaging seed of doubt, growing ever-larger day by day in this fantastical city, tells her slyly that there's no way that this City can be wrapped up and packaged in logic. Perhaps even the prodigious Walter Bishop wouldn't be able to figure it out.

When the trio reach their destination, Wilson and Olivia splinter off to head into the CT room, though not before Eames is directed to an exam room where he can be afforded at least a measure of modesty to change before the scan. Though surely, exposing your skin is less invasive than sharing the landscape of your brain with strangers. Olivia should be thanking Eames.

She ought to be, but Eames doesn't expect one. He shimmies out of his clothes in favour of the gown, though does keep on his shorts underneath to spare Olivia the view. Other clothes folded and left on the examination table, it's only a short walk into the room with the large machine. He's not particularly nervous, per say - there are little secrets a machine of this nature can suss out, and even if his entire history were somehow lain out on the floor, he's hardly intimidated by Olivia nor Jimmy for the sake of uncertainty, though he still wouldn't like it much. It's the matter of things, that secrets are as such for particular reasons, and Eames has never been open with them.

He slips up onto the table, fingers curled loosely around the edge of it as he looks over to Olivia, then Wilson. "What are we going to be looking for, exactly? Holes? A chip?"

It's a good question, of course. For his part, Wilson's fairly certain that his involvement in this whole thing comes down to his mutual acquaintanceship and his medical degree. He's all right with it, but he knows it's Olivia who's really orchestrating the whole thing. Nonetheless, if he's asked to take up a professional task, he doesn't do so halfheartedly, so he does have an answer he's thought through.

"Well... anything that's out of the ordinary, physiologically. Signs of any kind of procedure, be it something as apparent as an actual implant like a chip or a more subtle physical abnormality, be it in the matter of the brain itself, any of the bones of the skull, or the meninges, that may be indicative of a healed incision. Your neural activity will also be monitored for anything unusual - so when I start asking about your recollections of the City and of your world, that's why. While the focus will be primarily on the hippocampus and cerebral cortex, the parts of your brain primarily associated with memory, I think it's wise to do a thorough examination of all areas."

And the doctor speech aside, he turns to Olivia, "And, of course, if there's anything else more specific you had in mind?" Hey, he can recognize when someone might have more experience with alternate dimensions than he does.

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