Have A Seat [Roderich and Lovino]

It was a busy day in the cafeteria, and Roderich was busy mentally pummeling himself for not packing extra food that morning.

Normally, when he had to work extended hours, he made sure to bring more than one microwavable meal to heat up in his office. Last night, though, the practice with the orchestra he was involved in had run later than usual and he'd been too tired to think of it when he'd gotten home. Originally he'd figured he'd just skip dinner outright, but he'd gotten a bit too lightheaded to go along with that plan.

Thus, he'd worked his way up through the line, gingerly spooning food onto his plate and sniffing it suspiciously, glaring at the cooks when they didn't answer his inquiries right away about whether they'd bothered to sample the temperature of the food and how long it'd been left to sit after defrosting. Deciding that the stuff was at least unlikely to poison him, he walked off, looking for a place to sit.

Most of the tables were taken, even at this hour. He traversed the rows, eventually coming upon an empty seat and promptly taking it. As he pulled out his hand sanitizer and proceeded to apply it, he glanced up and realized who he was across from.

"Mr. Vargas," he said flatly. Well, this was bound to be a pleasant conversation.

"Sorry," Roderich said, rolling his eyes. "Lovino. Quite a healthy snack you have there, I see."

He motioned to the sole pastry. It was a hypocritical jab, really, as Roderich was often guilty of snacking on such things himself. It was a habit that he didn't particularly like, as he knew full well what kind of ailments it made him more susceptible to, but...it did make him feel better when he was stressed, which happened fairly frequently. At least he didn't really gain any weight from it, he supposed.

He gave his plastic silverware a few good wipes with his napkin, then set to picking at his meal. The green beans looked a bit nasty, but judging by the temperature and state of them, they'd probably been microwaved long enough to render them edible. The chicken, on the other hand...well, he might skip that. Or just bite along the edges. It seemed a bit cold on the inside now that he was able to cut it apart and stick a finger inside...

"Most of it merely looks that way because it was reheated," Roderich insisted, partly for Lovi's benefit and partly to bolster the notion in his own mind. "The likelihood of it actually harboring something dangerous is not high."

Still, he took to carefully cutting his chicken into tiny pieces, pushing the coldest parts to the edge of his plate, and he had to try not to wince as he brought a smidgen of the rest to his lips. Hmm...it tasted fine enough, albeit a bit rubbery. The vegetables were sour, though probably not lethal, so...he ate stone-facedly, eyeing Lovino.

"When does your shift end?" he asked. "I'm here until seven-thirty, unfortunately."

"I'm sure no bugs came in contact with it," he retorted, glaring. "And even if they had, this was adequately cooked. I asked to make sure of that."

Well, he did get brisk, curt answers to his inquiries that might have not been true, only dismissive. And geez, the handwashing. The cafeteria workers had been wearing gloves when dishing out the stuff, at least, but as for when it was being cooked...it was more difficult to be sure whether they'd followed proper sanitary guidelines. He stirred his green beans pensively, weighing hunger and lightheadedness against possible risk.

"Hmm," he murmured. "I don't envy you. You've got a while to go, yet."

"What exactly are you insinuating?" Roderich retorted, setting his fork down. All right, risk was taking precedence over hunger. He knew he really ought to eat a decent meal, but all the possibilities of contamination were really starting to make him nauseous. Honestly, why did Lovino have to get his imagination going?

"And I am really starting to wonder--are you ever in a pleasant mood?" he asked, irritated. "Every time I see you, you're awfully snappish and depressed. Perhaps you should look into treatment for that."

"You could at least allow me to eat my meal," he said. "Without attempting to disgust me."

He pushed the tray somewhat away from him. "It matters because it's quite annoying to everyone you happen to interact with. Well, perhaps not Dr. Carrideo, but I'm inclined to doubt that anything can annoy him. And no, you didn't invite me, but seeing as we're both decent, reasonable human beings, I'd figured we could at least stand each other's presence for a time. Perhaps I was wrong."

He sighed, crossing his arms. He really didn't understand what Lovino's problem was...

"That's no attitude to have in an institution full of people. If that's your attitude, perhaps you should have become an accountant or something, taken some desk job where you'd be alone much of the time."

It was obvious that he'd hurt Lovino's feelings with the Antonio jab, and for a moment he didn't regret it. But his crestfallen expression managed to drag some measure of Roderich's conscience into play, and he remarked, "Well, scratch that. I'm sure some things must bother him, though they'd likely have to be the result of someone deliberately pestering him. Which is the furthest thing from your actions. From what I've seen, he normally has to go to you."

And in response to the insult: "I simply didn't feel like wandering the cafeteria for a while. I didn't seek you out deliberately, you know."

"He doesn't," Roderich agreed. Even he had had experience with that--Antonio had the habit of personally presenting him with cases and then proceeding to refuse to leave him alone until he looked at them, even if they were obvious and barely worth his time (like the extrapulmonary tuberculosis patient from last week. Did he really need to take five minutes to walk down to the man's room and tell the nurses what tests to run? It was TB, damn it.)

"Somehow, I think that if you did, he would take them more as a challenge than a discouragement. He's persistent like that." And certainly Lovino and Antonio's relationship wouldn't be possible if Antonio wasn't incredibly, almost ruthlessly persistent. Lovino had that to be grateful for as well, Roderich supposed.

Roderich nodded, resting his chin in his hand. "Whenever he has a diseased patient that he's having the slightest trouble diagnosing, he thinks that's my jurisdiction. Moreover, he thinks I have to take the time to go see them, and more often than not it ends up being something obvious that he could have easily confirmed himself... I have the sense that in those instances, he knows that, and just wants to use me to make absolutely sure. Which I appreciate in principle, but I don't have the time for. He needs not to care so much..."

It was dangerous to, Roderich thought, at least for someone like himself. Antonio, on the other hand, seemed to have troubles and guilt slide off of him as easily as rain. He wasn't sure how he managed that.

"It's very difficult to ignore him," Roderich said. "And he very rarely listens. He's so cheerful and I know he has the best intentions, so oftentimes I end up giving in if only not to hurt his feelings. Which is silly, of course, but..."

He gave a light, resigned sound. "There's some people you just can't get truly angry at--you just have to put up with them. Like how we have to put up with each other's presences, if only because we happen to work in the same place and owe it to others to not be at each other's throats."

"Mm, that's true. He is much like a dog in demeanor, now that I'm thinking of it."

Catching that hint of surprise, Roderich added, "I'm not heartless, you know. I know I can come across as bossy or snappish or whatever else the interns are calling me behind my back these days, but it's just because I want things done correctly. I'm used to being on high-risk cases and having to make quick judgments. I'm used to ordering people around because I need tests and procedures completed quickly and thoroughly. I don't want to create excessive friction with the staff, I just..."

He cut off, noticing that he was rambling. The subject was a bit of a sore spot with him--he'd been accused before of being inconsiderate, when in truth it was the product of him being as committed as he was to his patients. He simply got on a course of action and tended to get nervous when others didn't follow, weren't as pragmatic as he was. But Lovino didn't really need to hear all that.

"So what is the grand total...two people?" He said, meeting the cruelty with a lightly mocking tone. "Dr. Carrideo and Mr. Vargas are the only individuals working here that you care about?"

Roderich started to retort, but the point following the insult was a fair one. How often did he smile over something other than one of his own remarks? The instances that came to mind were all moments wherein his logic had failed to console an upset patient. It was at such times that he forced himself to show some kindness rather than succumbing to his frustration--because getting outright mad would be anything but helpful.

"I suppose I could work on that," he conceded, albeit guardedly.

Ah, 'a few.' Perhaps Lovino wasn't as generally antisocial as he'd thought.

"Who do I care about?" He picked up his fork, stirring the green beans whose quality he'd rejected, just as his hands liked having something to do. "Well, I befriended Mr. Beilschmidt recently. I had to consult him about a surgery and found he was a pretty intelligent, respectable man. I also enjoy the company of Ms. Leveque. There are plenty of other doctors that I admire for their work and competence as well."