Lurking in Surgery [Roderich and Natalia]

Roderich honestly didn't have that good of a reason to be standing behind the surgeon, aside from one outstanding fact that he certainly could not politely tell her--she was so young.

When he had heard she would be the one operating on his patient--a diabetic man with a raging staph infection on the left side of his heart--and had not recognized her name, he had immediately looked her up on the database. Upon finding her age and short period of experience, he'd felt his stress levels hike up--was she one of those clumsy newcomers that could put a quick and nasty end to his patient? It seemed possible, and hell if he was going to let one of his patients suffer needlessly at the hand of a relative newbie.

So it was that he'd taken up a place beside Natalia, appropriately gloved and masked, eyes locked on the dead tissue she was attempting to cut away, making way for a new artificial heart valve. Surgery wasn't his specialty, but he knew enough to offer advice--or at least to keep her on her toes, he figured.

"Make sure you get that edge," he reminded her for the umpteenth time, jabbing a finger towards part of the tissue.

The doctor behind her was truly grating her nerves. Natasha was good under pressure and had enough pride in her work that she was thorough. If she did poorly she would be her own worst critic. Dr. Edelstein seemed as if he wanted to compete for that spot with all of his constant nagging however. The first several ‘tips’ had been accepted with a terse nod. She was, after all, a resident just over her first year of a minimum of six. If that wasn’t potentially worrying then her age was and she wasn’t stupid. He thought she was incapable.

Natalia had tuned him out for the majority of the procedure. Her patient she was operating on today had a pretty nasty staph infection. She mused that it had hit like a freight train from how young he looked. It was her job to cut away the dead muscle before a doctor with more seniority placed in the artificial heart valve. Then, as it was part of her training, she would stitch him back up to go into recovery. It was nothing too difficult. In fact, she would have been enjoying herself.

Would have. Edelstein was doing a damned good job of making her facial tic come out, luckily hidden by the mask. She was done quietly dealing with the doctor when a thin finger jabbed in her general work area. Clenching her jaw to keep from turning the scalpel on her coworker, she turned her attention on the older man. “I know you’re a very knowledgeable man but I’m not blind. Your hand is shaking in my work area, sir.” She’d managed to sound halfway like a decent human being… there would be celebration after her very long shift.

"So sorry," Roderich said, not sounding sorry at all. He pulled back his hand from her space, tapping his fingers impatiently against his thumb as he watched her cut. Her movements were quite steady, but...

"You're going too quickly," he remarked. "You're cutting into the healthy tissue a bit."

He glanced at her face, catching the look of frustration in her dark eyes. Certainly he was bothering her, and that could possibly make her work worse, but he could hardly help himself. It drove him nuts having the fate of one of his patients out of his hands, however briefly.

It also drove him nuts to see that the young surgeon apparently had not properly tied her hair back. A few strands had crept out of her cap, likely because her hair, as Roderich had observed in the picture of her on the hospital's database, was unusually long.

"Stop for a second," he ordered, thinking of dust and fomites, and reached out with one of his still-clean hands--he wasn't the one operating, after all--to tuck the hair back in. A breach of personal space, perhaps, but if these young doctors would only bother to prepare themselves properly--

He wasn’t sorry. He wasn’t even close to feeling regret. For a flash of a second, just the briefest iota of a second she saw red and fantasized it being that annoying man’s blood. Her hand tightened on the handle of her scalpel at the warning and she had to take a deep breath and release it slowly to stop herself from lashing out at the man. This …she had nothing nice to say about him, man wasn’t a surgeon. Her superiors obviously trusted her. She’d proven herself to be on the road to becoming a great cardiac surgeon. This …blatant lack of trust had her irked.

“With all due respect, doctor, your commentary is clouding my work. The department does trust me.” She was never one to let another walk over her just because. She’d dealt with his kind in medical school and Natalia was positive she could continue to. Homicide would put a red flag on her career which was much more important than giving into the violent tendencies she might possess. Proving him horridly wrong would be much sweeter…

The order shouldn’t have surprised her but it did. Pulling back with a clipped sigh, she turned away from where the patient was laying, rather unawares of his surgeon and doctor having a mild conflict. When he began to reach for her she froze in mild shock. People just didn’t try to get near her. Especially during an operation, no less. Her shock was the only thing that kept her from breaking fingers, which for her credit, had only just done once. And she swore it was an accident. His hand, luckily, had been removed relatively quickly.

“What do you think you’re doing? First you criticize me, even though I’ve been here for over a year, and then you butt into my personal space! Doctor, this might be fun for you but I would appreciate if you never touch me again,” she scolded, mouth set in a severe line behind her mask. With all the disdain she could muster – which was a horrifying amount and usually slowed things to a grinding halt – the blonde steadied herself to go back to work. “Perhaps you should call over my superior to do the hardware? I’m just about done here.” No thanks to you. Make yourself useful.

"Fun for me?" he echoed, raising an eyebrow. "No, this is not fun for me. Rather, this is highly stressful for me, and I would not have to do things like that if you would bother doing them properly the first time."

He met her disdain with a heated glare, unmoved. Yes, he'd had his fair share of obstructive individuals, too, and her icy gaze was not about to faze him. He wanted her done and he wanted this over with, and then he'd see if he ought to reevaluate his opinions on her ability.

"Very well," he huffed, stepping away from her side and over to where the other surgeon stood waiting. After a brief exchange of words, the other man strode up, and Roderich, resuming his place beside his patient, took a look at her completed work before she backed away. He blinked a bit.

Hmm, it was actually a cleaner job overall than he'd figured she'd be able to produce. Stress still had his grip on him, as the surgery wasn't yet over, but he felt some sense of relief. He bit his lip beneath his mask, debating whether to offer her some form of a compliment.

She wanted to protest his claim that she was going about her job incorrectly. For what it looked like upon opening his chest cavity, the muscle that remained looked healthy. An artificial valve would do well in the space she had cut away. It was good work. His answer had little to deter her from finishing up her clean up, instead ruthless in blaming him for his own stress-she saw nothing she’d done to cause stress. If this experienced shaved off even five minutes from his life she was happy to have her name attached to it.

Her shoulders relaxed a bit under the standard surgeon’s scrubs when his eyes weren’t trained on her and she set aside her tools while Dr. Edelstein spoke to the senior surgeon on duty during her practice. From what she could hear he wasn’t completely defaming her work which surprised her. It wasn’t bad though. Perhaps she wouldn’t have to get revenge. Maybe.

Taking a step back, the doctor and surgeon took their places for the next bit of work. Her gloves were discarded in the bin and she went off to the side to clean up and grab a new set of gloves for the end. And then, she thought, the man could be out of her hair. As it was, she had a few quiet moments of observing the heart valve replacement. It wouldn’t be long before she was able to do this step as well. She looked up from the patient to McDreamy over on the other side and resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

It would be over soon enough.

And indeed it was, as after a relatively short time, the other surgeon stepped back once more to allow Natalia to sew everything back up. Roderich's eyes again turned on her hands, watching her work, but he managed to hold his tongue this time. This bit was less complicated, and it was plainly obvious that...

"You do very neat stitches," he said, and promptly averted his eyes. Well, there. She'd garnered some respect from him, enough to make him feel the faintest bit guilty. Not that he was about to apologize, of course. His pride wouldn't quite allow for that.

The ordeal over, he took a deep breath. There would be a few days before he could be sure that things were indeed going well for the patient, but this was definitely progress. He hadn't had his life put in jeopardy by any stupid surgical mistakes, at least that Roderich could see.

Thanking her superior quietly she stepped up once more to do the rather mundane task of stitching the patient back together once more. The first time she’d done this on a cadaver had been a bit unnerving, if she was truthful. It had taken simple stitching on less vital locations before she got up to sewing up chests. It quickly became normal though, just like removing dead tissue was becoming.

The compliment was acknowledged with a twitch of the lip, though that was hidden by her surgical mask. Pulling back after the final stitch, Natalia cut the surgical thread. Done. Checking the machines hooked up to the man she noted his vitals before stepping back.

“You tend to when you get to practice on yourself,” came the measured response. It was a lie, of course. She was good at looking completely serious, believe it or not… “Among other things.” She removed her mask when she’d stepped away to a respectable distance, hand moving to rest on her hip. “It is a relief you approve of something the newbie does, doctor.” She almost smiled. Almost.

Practicing on herself? "And why exactly have you had the occasion to do that?" he asked, cocking his head in feigned suspicion. She had to be kidding, after all, in spite of her deadpan manner.

He retreated from the patient as well, backing up a few feet further than she had before stripping off his gloves. He didn't remove his mask, though, until they had actually left the room--he didn't want to breathe in the myriad of nasty things that could be airborne in there, after all. Heck, he'd probably wear a mask of some sort most of the time around the hospital if it were socially acceptable to do so. Which reminded him, he really ought to see sometime if the administration had ever gotten around to replacing the ventilation system's filters...

"It is a relief that you have an ability worthy of my approval," he replied levelly, feeling a slight flush creep up to his cheeks from her near-smile and teasing stance. She was rather pretty--he was noticing that now that he was paying more attention to herself than her work. He had seen a photo of her before, but had been too distracted at the time to notice more than the obvious--that she was young, long-haired, and dark-eyed. Now, he...well, he ought to just try and ignore such things. No use in dwelling on any of that for more than an instant.

Someone as no-nonsense as Natalia should have appreciated the anal personality possessed by the older man. He was thorough and incredibly safe. Vanilla. As a powerful woman on the rise his status was even appealing. It was when he chose to speak however that his status lost its luster. The young surgeon could at least have a little fun at his expense for even she had some sense of humor (buried deeply behind a stony demeanor). Dr. Edelstein was very German; he seemed repressed and if it were up for debate, Natalia bet on him having an impressive rapsheet of phobias and nuances. Silly man. The question made her blink impassively.

Relaxing her stance she turned her arm to show a fine scar near the crook of her elbow. It’d been an accident involving a Charlie horse and an ice skate when she was twelve and she hadn’t been the one to stitch it up. He seemed to be entertaining his curiosity though, whatever his reasoning – she didn’t care. “Barely there,” she responded cryptically. Shrugging then, she looked at the half hidden face of the doctor that was for some reason still standing there.

The thought flashed through her mind a second time: Criminals had shorter sheets of paper documenting what was wrong with them. His compliment made the incriminating thoughts taper off though, crossing her arms now that she was done showing off her ‘home remedies’. “You should have more faith in the hiring capabilities of this hospital, after all they did hire you.” The tone wasn’t as severe as it could be though. She was going soft, she was sure of it.

He eyed the scar, studying it carefully. Hmm. It had been a wound that'd healed quite cleanly, and his instincts told him that her hand likely hadn't been the one to stitch it. All the same, he managed a little smirk, commenting, "Good work."

"Occasionally their recruiters are sensible," he said in reply, allowing a teasing tone to slip into his voice. He did know and respect more than a couple other doctors around here, after all--there were plenty that were talented within their areas of expertise, even though some were quite annoying personally. So long as they did their jobs and didn't attempt to argue with his decisions in situations where he was more knowledgeable than them, he didn't have a problem with them.

He followed her out as she went to wash up, tossing away his gloves and taking his place at a sink himself, scrubbing thoroughly even though he had barely come into contact with the patient. Instead of using the soap there, he promptly withdrew a bottle of his own--a kind that dried out his already rather dessicated hands less than the generic variety--and undertook his usual ritual of dispensing some, cleaning everything from his wrists to his fingernails, and soaping and washing the bottle itself, just in case. It never hurt to be cautious, in his mind.

Knowing that he was humoring her didn’t send the girl into a rage, confusing as it usually did. She must’ve been desperate for companionship if the uptight doctor’s mildly positive feedback had her acting like a practically balanced individual. The thought was almost frightening for Natalia who stood at the sink, scanning the guidelines posted there in laminate. Water on, she leaned forward to dip her deceptively prim hands under the stream.

“Occasionally? I’m glad to see your lack of confidence back there isn’t solely my burden alone, Doctor.” A corner to that often severe mouth curved, a flash and then it was gone. “I have several years left on residency. You’ll have to get used to me.”

Water warm, she grabbed at the hospital’s standard soap, lathering up to her elbows. She was just getting around to the scar she’d shown off earlier when his actions caught her eye, causing her to pause mid-suds. There he was, thoroughly nitpicking. The compulsive way he was cleaning – she was positive he’d outlined the wrinkles in the palms of his hands – had been a source of distraction for the young surgeon.

Realizing she was staring and shouldn’t Natalia cleared her throat politely, finishing her task of cleaning up the way normal doctors did. Was he scared that his delicate skin would crack or something? ‘What a woman…’ One, then two towels were extracted and she wiped down her arms before throwing the wadded paper towels away. “I won’t ask.”

"I suppose I will," he murmured, not looking at her, focusing on his hands. And indeed, his skin was somewhat raw and cracked, but the care he was taking was less to keep that from worsening and more to make sure he flushed out every harmful organism that might possibly be on his skin.

He only glanced up at her remark, frowning. Goodness, did he look that neurotic? He really needed to learn to make his attention to detail less obvious, because it obviously didn't come off as anything positive to the newer staff who happened to witness it. A tad defensively, he sought to explain: "I like to be thorough. I am, after all, often in contact with very dangerous pathogens."

Not that he'd likely just been in contact with anything particularly dangerous, but...it was force of habit. Surely she could understand that.

She offered him a fleeting grin, rare for her, as she straightened out her scrubs. "I made that assessment during the surgery, doctor. I've seen stranger practices." It wasn't a lie, really. Many things occurred in med school that would make the whole institution appear a farce if more people knew. Exams, presentations, decorum... the disadvantages - and awkwardly enough advantages of not sleeping for nearly 48 hours had a strange effect on the student. Questionable habits were developed. She just played with her knives more which only helped her trade.

That mask was still on... "Your patient will be fine. How about we step out so you can take a well-deserved break?" It wasn't a known habit of Natalia's to be nice, because face it, she wasn't the bubbly individual her sister was - not that she cared to compare them very much. Her sister was every bit the nurturing older sister. She'd lead the doctor out by the hand. And, nurturing as she was, the brunet doctor would probably cringe at a minimum length.

Natalia wasn't her sister. If she reached over now he would probably drop from a heart attack and then blame her for wanting to get revenge or something. Heart attacks, unconsciousness, and open chest cavities. The man would make sure to haunt her no matter what; something she didn't exactly desire. She took a step toward the door, head politely to the side. "Are you coming, sir?"

"Yes," he said, stripping off his mask at last, washing his fingertips for a few moments just to be sure, and then drying off his hands with paper towel until there wasn't a drop of water left on them. He followed her quickly out of the room, hands folded as to prevent them from brushing against anything.

"What did you mean by 'stranger practices'?" he asked, attempting to be conversational as he strode after her down the hallway. It wouldn't hurt to take some time to relax before he went onto his next patient, after the heap of stress that this surgery was. Besides, he was curious. Natalia's vague statements seemed to be pointing to some kind of odd past, or at least her having been around odd sorts of people, and while he couldn't be certain, she could very well have been inviting questions. Perhaps, too, he could redeem himself a bit for his earlier harshness by taking some sort of interest in what she had to say. Not that he had to on a professional level, but...heck, he was a decent person at heart.

When Natalia waited she did so somewhat patiently. She didn't show impatience in her stance even when it gnawed at the corners of her mouth. It was good then that at the present moment she had a little bit of time to unwind. She didn't let on that she enjoyed company if it was competent, which she assumed the man was. So she waited while he did the final bit of clean up.

Free from the room, she could get a better look at him. He had to be older from his rather noticeable assumptions based on her youth but he didn't look far in his years. Well under 40 if she had anything to say. He spoke and her brows furrowed in an emotion she wasn't sure of - perhaps confusion that he was speaking to her rather than running off like she'd been sure he would. People were intimidated by her and would often agree with her before slipping away down a hallway that didn't have her in it.

Oh. Question. She cursed in her head, feeling foolish. Refusing to show it, Natalia gave him a nonchalant shrug. "Surely you have stories of strange behaviors while in medical school, doctor."

It took a lot for someone to intimidate Roderich. People tended not to frighten him--partly as a byproduct of being around such obvious mortality, and partly because he simply didn't think highly of a lot of people. There were only a handful of things that could truly rattle him--diseases being one, patient deaths being another. Cold-demeanored surgeons were not one of those things.

Hmm, she'd turned the question around. Well, he'd be friendly and share.

"I did witness a lot of things, myself. There were all manner of psychological problems that seemed to arise...one of my friends was prone to anxiety attacks, for instance." As was Roderich himself, but he didn't need to touch upon that. "They used to think they had a heart condition until they realized it was mental. Someone else I knew had severe OCD to the point that they couldn't leave a room without counting their steps and opening and shutting the door a certain number of times. And then there was the man in my cytopathology class with the fetish for orthopedic devices..."

He sighed, smiling a bit. "It's interesting what people become under stress. What sorts of things have you seen, might I ask?"

She assumed that whatever Roderich told her was a direct account of his behavior in medical school. It was merely an inkling, honestly. Natalia didn't get by in school without being astute and almost always found truth in what she assumed. The young surgeon found herself not all that caring of the small details of her companion's psychological stints during school. Making a noncommittal sound at the back of her throat, the pale girl shared a fleeting glance at the man. Privately she contemplated if he would grace her operation procedure sometime in the future. No. She certainly hoped not. The man was much too close to the obsessive bundle of psychological ailments he probably was in medical school.

Which probably wasn't a very long time ago. Not everyone could have her determination. She wasn't one to hold it against him though. Either way, she could finally answer his initial question - not wanting to be impolite.

After all, the doctor could slip an eloquent word or two against her. Her lips twitched in distaste but she fathomed he couldn't tell or want to, having looked ahead. "Strange compulsions as well, only in regards to ingestion of non-food items. Delirium. Acting out in potentially life-threatening ways. One of my friends -" Well, if she were honest it had only been someone she'd spoken to and looked on from afar... "decided it smart to go backpacking in the nearby woods just outside of town. At midnight when the moon was waning. She lived. Just broke a lot of bones." During the whole delivery her voice had sounded indifferent.

"I simply went into my studies and avoided hikes," There was amusement there beneath the surface. "People tended to give me a wide berth." Never understood why.

"Hm," Roderich said, a small sound that could mean anything from disapproval to curiosity. Indeed, there was some curiosity, because as she had figured, he'd figured--that some of the things she described likely applied to her. She was a puzzle, really, and he was starting to think that she liked being that way. Either that, or she simply wasn't social enough to have a normal, unquestionable conversation.

"Did they?" he said, and wondered whether she was aware of the chilly attitude she tended to exude. Perhaps not. "Well, it must have been nice at least to not have people distracting you. I had trouble with that now and then...I had two distinctly obnoxious roommates over my academic career, who were more interested in partying until four in the morning than doing actual work. And--"

And there was the matter of the woman he'd been engaged to during his last few years of training, who'd rendered him quite the mess after breaking off the engagement. But he didn't need to touch upon that.

"And I just generally seemed to find myself around annoying sorts of people," he finished instead.

They were both similarly detached it seemed. For her credit, Natalia was trying. She was very socially inexperienced, the goals and persona she’d established at a very young age leaving her personality a little lackluster to the general public. She was assured that they, being 95% of her peers, were just intimidated by a strong woman. She wasn’t all that much for feminism, just continuing her old habits. Lord forbid she smile openly…

“It’s lonely,” she offered. It had to have been a moment of weakness to admit to that. She instantly regret it but kept her face impassive. “Though yes, I did get a lot of work done. Stitches included.” Along with an almost intimidating tolerance for sleep deprivation she’d acquired in school; her current record was 72 hours accompanied only by de-caf. She was proud of that. She was proud of too much but she had a reason to, even if a bit of human interaction was sacrificed.

Call it woman’s intuition, but she could still read people well enough. There was something other than ‘annoying’ people and she wondered if it would be kosher to ask. Probably not, but she was rarely a safe bet. Efficient, but too prickly and forthright around the edges to function successfully.

“I couldn’t imagine you being the type to go out then? For good reason,” she mused, not necessarily needing to verbalize it. “I’m guessing that these ah, annoying sorts of people were fond of your company though, yes? And you them?”

Natalia paused, thought it over for a moment. “Forgive me if I’m prying, doctor. I do like my information first-hand.”

Roderich eyed her for half a second, a little surprised at her moment of honesty. He didn't let his gaze linger for long, though, lest he prevent any such moments from happening in the future.

"I didn't get out much," he admitted. "And yes, they were. Presumably because they could get a reaction out of me. I've never been all that patient with others that act irresponsibly and was certainly prone to angrily lecturing them...though, I don't know. Some of those people were half-decent individuals when they weren't going out of their way to bother me. I'm still in contact with a few of them--one's over at the CDC now and I ask him questions from time to time."

As well as favors--having that contact was the way he'd procured a smallpox vaccine for himself a few years ago, in spite of the fact that said vaccine wasn't supposed to be available to the public. That was probably the most illicit thing he'd ever done, really, but because it was for his own peace of mind...he supposed it wasn't that terrible of an action.

"You're forgiven," he added. "There are some individuals around here with false ideas about me, so I appreciate you asking me personally."

[I swear I have not forgotten. I'm sorry. ;___;]

Her lips pulled into a wry smirk; a fleeting show of ironic amusement. They were both no nonsense, however the similarities did not branch out any further. She was subtly watching him from the corner of her eye, catching little flashes of brunette hair and staunch posture. He was clearly more in the lines of provoking rather than physical retribution. That was fine for most people. It wasn't fine for Natalia. Then again, she had a reputation of acting: She bit. Roderich stuck to barking.

"One of your former classmates work here?" She sounded mildly horrified by the idea. Brows furrowed ever so, she finally looked over at him (rewarding him). "That seems like it would be more trouble than it's worth, Sir."

Around them were dozens of personnel for the hospital, dashing around while somehow managing to not completely upend themselves. It was a well-orchestrated disaster waiting to happen she thought. These people had seniority over her, deeming her faithful slave girl. It was a bit demeaning, but there was one thing that kept her sane. Nobody she went to school with was trailing after her, able to stare over her shoulders with a condes--well, Dr. Edelstein had taken over that position.

Damn.

"No, thank goodness," he said. "This hospital is far from the school I went to, anyway. I was in Michigan then and moved out here mainly because I liked the climate better."

Yes, he wasn't too fond of cold. It wasn't that he hadn't experienced it previously--Vienna, after all, had fairly chilly winters--but being as slender as he was, he didn't handle it well. The eczema he'd developed from freezing temperatures and constant handwashing had been strong motivation to head somewhere warmer.

"There are people that I argue with here anyway, of course. But I suppose one finds that in every workplace, especially when there are conflicts of interest. People can get a bit possessive over patients and fixed in ideas..."

Oh, didn't he know it himself. But at least he was right most of the time, so he hadn't run into too many shameful mistakes caused by his own overdefensiveness.

“Nyet… You do not look like the type to deal with cold.” He was rather frail, even in his uniforms. The cold would sink in without little hindrance. She smiled wanly at the idea of her superior shaking like a those tiny little dogs… oh what were they called? Chewbaccas? A verbal headshake; no. That wasn’t it. She let her mouth fall into a (thoughtful) grimace, somewhat disappointed in her mental faux pas.

Of course she couldn’t berate herself for not knowing everything when he spoke again. This time around she crossed her arms with smirk, eyes on him. Did he know that he just described himself? His constant hovering was fresh in that sharp mind of hers, but after a moment’s silence it was pretty clear that the man wasn’t actually owning up to his own behavior.

Men. Rolling her eyes a bit, she chose to let the silence hang while the elevator chugged to her call at the speed of snail. They stood side by side, almost appearing companionable. Perhaps she’d get along with him on more amiable terms… Well, if he stayed out of her operating room.

“A bit possessive? Where have you come across that? Surely you put them in their proper place, Doctor.” Her face was impassive, though nothing big there… But she was teasing him, which in the book of Natalia was truly a breakthrough.

[...I need to stop hiatusing.]

"Here and there," he said, smiling a tad. He didn't really want to accuse one of his colleagues directly--not that she was going to gossip that he had insulted so-and-so, but in such a large facility insults did have a nasty habit of being overheard and relayed back to the person in question. He'd learned that after making an offhanded remark about how a particular immunologist wouldn't be able to tell lupus from syphilis if it slapped him across the face. The man had caught wind of it, the HR department had gotten involved, he'd had to give a formal apology... Yes, he was more careful with what judgments left his mouth these days.

"I have, for the most part," he told her. "I don't appreciate being assigned a case and then having my suggestions all met with resistance. It makes it so difficult to get anything accomplished. There are, of course, situations that are too stressful for everyone involved for me to be too forceful, but I do what I can."