How many CUs does a hospital need? [Open]

Waiting rooms were interesting places, certainly. They were places filled with all sorts of emotion. Fear, worry, boredom. The waiting rooms in the children's ward were colorful, bright, cheerful, while the ones in the adult ward tended to be...not drab, but rather bland, with off-white walls and some random paintings that reminded Bernadette of a cheap hotel. She spent a lot of times in waiting rooms, particularly the ones outside of surgery and the emergency rooms. Those seemed to be the ones where she was needed the most.

She was a counselor, after all. She was supposed to counsel people, and while she wasn't paid to comfort the parents and loved ones of the patients, she found it rewarding nonetheless. She wasn't in the waiting rooms to comfort any one at the moment, though. She was avoiding the paperwork that was building up in her office. So she was sitting in the waiting room outside of the exam rooms, hoping that nobody was looking for her. She knew she couldn't stay in the waiting room forever (she had an appointment with a patient scheduled in an hour), but it was certainly better than staring at mountains of paperwork in her office, or trying to make small talk in the staff rooms.

Yawning, she reached over to the small table near her, picking up a months-old magazine so she could flip through it and look occupied. She had this sinking feeling that someone was looking for her, but she brushed it aside as she looked at pictures of coats and read tips on how to keep your skin moisturized in the winter.

Merely walking by the Belgian's office was usually too much for Arthur. He'd peek in, see the mountains of paperwork and would have to resist the impulse to rush in and start organising it or SOMETHING. Good Lord, that lazy blond just let it sit there and rot... How many patients was she dealing with? And how many were waiting on treatment because of her laziness?

Well this simply wouldn't do. He'd confront her on the issue, doctor-to-doctor, colleague to colleague. It wouldn't be that hard, he'd just tell her she was lazy and in a hospital with such a high volume of patients and cases, that she'd have to work a little harder to keep up with all the incoming and outgoing deskwork needed.

And while he told her this he would ignore her lovely curves, soft voice and bright eyes. He peeked around the corner of the waiting rooms, having finally found her and cleared his throat a little before walking towards her, trying to have some confidence in his step. He forced his eyes to remain at her face as he stood in front of her, folding his arms over his chest.

"Doctor Aldeniek, we need to talk."

She groaned, placing the magazine down. Really, why did the Englishman, of all people, come looking for her? He always came off as ridiculously anal and OCD, and she had seen the way he had glared at her office. (When she actually bothered to be in it.)

Maybe she could get out of this talk. She was certain as to what it was about, and she really didn't want to hear it. She knew she could be neater, but really, she did do her paperwork (eventually), and she saw so many patients anyways, she was certain they could hire one or two or five more therapists.

Crossing her arms under her chest, she straightened up in her chair. She wondered if pouting would be too much, and while she wasn't above flirting to get out of trouble, she wasn't any good at it. (Of course, she didn't think she was really in any trouble. It wasn't like the Englishman could fire her or anything. He would probably give her a thorough scolding, but she could live with that.)

"What is it, Doctor Kirkland?"

Arthur stood in front of her in a weak attempt to look intimidating and feeling himself failing slightly because the woman was pouting. Despite his best efforts, some small part of his brain -one usually overshadowed by all the medical jargon he had stuffed in over the years- was susceptible to such tricks. He folded his own arms over his chest.

"Your office is a disaster area," he said, shaking his head a little mostly just to avoid her gaze, "I can't believe you just let it sit like that! Just wallow in all those unfinished papers- I realise you have many patients but it's simply ridiculous."

Allowing himself a small breath, he plopped down in the seat beside, organising the magazines absently. They were barely ever updated but he stilled feared that one day that some of Willem's magazines would make it in here and some poor child would pick them up and be exposed to all that- a shiver ran through him.

He cleared his throat again, looking at her. "I just think since you're one of our only therapists here you should be a little more organised, and a woman of your intelligence should be able to do that."