fandomhigh | Summer Games: Wednesday, The Park [morning]

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Summer Games: Wednesday, The Park [morning]

"Good morning!" Anakin yelled into the megaphone from the small platform he had erected in the park. "Students, please listen for your names and find your partner or partners as your name is called: Sidon and Aloy; Jason and Rey; Bobby and Paris; Ahsoka and Uma; Theron and Peridot; Astrid and Norman; Tip, Sabine and Beaker."

Once the students were in place, Anakin held up a sheaf of paper in his hand. "Today, with the help of the proprietors in town, we're conducting a Scavenger Hunt. You have a very long list: You must find 15 of the items from that list and either take a picture or video of yourselves completing the tasks. Whoever completes their 15 in the shortest amount of time will win the coveted, terrifying, singing fish," he said, holding his hand out for it to fly to him. It was still shrieking Sabotage as it flew, but now it also rained confetti on anyone close enough to be in its flight path. As Anakin held it, it treated the entire group to holographic footage of Theron being chased by a Roomba.

You're welcome, Theron.

"Right," Anakin said slowly. "Someone come take this thing from me as quickly as possible. On your marks, get set, go."

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"Yeah, it took me months to give up on that one," Kanan admitted. "Of course, once I was good and over it, that's when it finally let me leave."

Kanan didn't know the meaning of 'Stockholm syndrome,' but there you go.

"So if I want to stay, it'll let me leave, but as long as I want to leave it'll make me stay." Cristina sighed. "Yeah, that's not suspicious at all."

"You've been here a week and you're already calling an island suspicious," Kanan noted. "See, you're picking up quickly already."

"The hospital I used to work at was cursed," Cristina said by way of explanation. She mostly meant it metaphorically.

Mostly.

"Cursed?"

Yeah, you couldn't say a line like that to Kanan and expect him not to want to follow up on that one.

"I worked at Seattle Grace," Cristina said, by way of explanation. "We had that shooter awhile back? 11 people died. Plus there was the plane crash -- a bunch of us got stranded in rural Idaho. And died. Oh, and last year there was the hurricane, though that hit all of Seattle, not just the hospital. But we still managed to lose a doctor." Poor Brooks. "And that's not even getting to people getting cancer or hit by buses or that time we had to pull a live bomb out of a guy's chest. . . ."

She could sound blase about this now because she'd broken down about it so many times in the past. But she'd probably end up crying in the shower later.

Kanan was going to skip mentioning that he'd never heard any of this in favor of wincing and offering a very sympathetic, "Crap."

It summed up a lot.

"So you traded off hellish for absurd. Sorry if I crossed a line in asking, there."

Cristina shrugged. "I'm used to people who already know, so." The hospital was pretty notorious where she was from. If it didn't have so many ground-breaking surgeons on staff, it would have gone under years ago. It nearly had more than a few times, in fact. "I guess brightly colored dogs and people just casually on fire seems like an easy trade-in, but. . . . I like surgery. And things that follow the actual laws of the natural world."

Yeaaah, Kanan wasn't going to be telling her about the Force any time soon, then.

"I mean, you know what you know," Kanan noted. "A complete change from everything you've come to understand as truth... that's jarring. Especially when it comes suddenly, without warning."

"Oh lord, you do something that completely ignores physics, too, don't you."

It served her right. Kitty looked completely normal, and yet had molecules that didn't actually work like molecules.

"... Only rarely," Kanan offered. Because that seemed like the best direction to head, here. And better admit it now than have her stumble over him doing a Force leap in the park.

"Well, it's just rude," Cristina said. "A person spends more than half her life studying the rules and then you all just go around breaking them willy-nilly. I have multiple advanced degrees! And some of you don't even have organs!"

Jono was going to be a sticking point for her for, like, ever.

"Okay, my organs are all where organs are meant to be," Kanan replied, giving her a wary side-eye. "And I intend for them to remain that way."

And they would! For at least another six years or so. But she probably didn't deal in eye trauma.

Not unless his eyes were in his chest! And then she'd probably yell about how they weren't supposed to be down there.

". . . How's your diet? Do you eat a lot of cholesterol?"

Lord help her, she'd do an angioplasty in a heartbeat right now.

Starting to get a little creepy there, Cristina.

"... I'm a bigger fan of fruit. I drink a lot of ca-- coffee. Coffee. Working on putting down alcohol."

Aside from the caffeine, his diet was fine.

"I get shot at more often than I care to be?"

That was the weirdest olive branch he'd ever extended to anybody in his life.

Creepy was what happened when you were used to associating solely with other surgeons.

"Well, as long as no one's going to shoot at me, I'll be happy to help you out with that afterwards."

"Nobody's going to shoot at you," Kanan replied, shaking his head. "The shooting mostly happens whenever I go back home. I intend for it to stay that way."

Not that he had any say in that, but...

"If I can't find proper medical assistance back there, I'll be sure to remember to head to the clinic as soon as I can."

Take it or leave it, Doc.

"That's fair," Cristina allowed. She gave Kanan another once over. "Where's home?"

She was guessing Central America, but knew better than to make that assumption out loud. For all she knew, he was from the mean streets of Baltimore or something.

"Nowhere in particular," Kanan replied, shrugging. "I travel a lot. I get into trouble a lot. It's safe to say I'm definitely not in America legally."

Taking 'illegal alien' to the extreme, a little.

Definitely Central American, Cristina decided. Or -- he might be Canadian. Which border was closer to this part of the country?

"I won't tell on you, I promise," she said, flashing him a quick, joking smile. "Though it sounds like if you don't get help back home, you might be kind of screwed by the time you get back here."

Oh, those pesky Canadians.

"Might be," Kanan agreed. "My traveling partner, Hera, is pretty good with emergency first-aid. That's a start, at least. Medical facilities back home aren't necessarily an option, sometimes."

He wasn't going to mention bacta, he wasn't going to mention bacta...

Cristina could potentially be very interested in bacta. It was a physical substance at least, that she might eventually study under a microscope to better understand. It was the magic stuff that really made her want to hit things.

"Well, if she needs to resupply sometime, send her by the clinic. That would at least use a little more of my expertise than playing conasta with the nurses does."

"I'll be sure to have her swing by the next time our medkit is running low," Kanan replied with a nod. "Or I can. We've got some pretty powerful antiseptic and..." he waved a hand around a little. "... It's something that encourages healing, they don't really have anything quite like it around here. But that still won't do much good if there's shrapnel that needs being removed or anything like that."

So help him, he was going to show up at the clinic with a blaster bolt through his shoulder or something just to help alleviate the doctor's boredom.

And Cristina would dearly appreciate that, even while being annoyed at his shoulder being burned through by nothing she was even remotely familiar with.

"Some kind of herb?" she guessed. "Heck, bring that by too, sometime. I've got a PhD in biochemistry. I bet I can find a local equivalent."

She wasn't going to trash talk traditional remedies without at least finding out what they were. Plenty of modern medicines had started out as "useful herbs".

"Nah, it's chemical," Kanan replied. And then went for broke, here. "We call it bacta. It's a sort of gel..."

He waved a hand.

"Tell you what," he said, "you tell me when to find you at the clinic, and I'll swing by with a bacta patch. I'd love to see if there is an equivalent around here."

You know. On Earth.

Summer Games: Wednesday, The Park [morning]

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