- - - DEDICATION, DETERMINATION ,

[marciasydes]

[/size]

[dominic]

so here we are again ,

[/color]
^{I MADE A VOW, TO CARRY YOU HOME... HOME, I REALLY TRIED TO DO WHAT YOU WANT
ED, IT ALL WENT WRONG AGAIN. I MADE A VOW, TO CARRY YOU HOME. IF YOU FALL SI
CK, IF YOU PASS OUT. I FIGURED IT OUT, I CAN SEE AGAIN, I CAUGHT A GLIMPSE, BUT}

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -[/color][/center]

[/i]

Dumping his jacket in the medical bay, missing the chair as he chucked it over the railing, he started the small journey down to the vaults of the base to check out his nagging suspicions. He was fairly sure he was wrong – he had to be, really, otherwise there would be more than one person with a headache that day – but it was better safe than sorry and, really, he was a fairly nosey little git at the best of times. A small part of him kind of hoped that Marcia was downstairs, a small tinge of excitement creeping into his system and making his heart beat a little faster at the thought of time with the weapons specialist. He didn't notice – never noticed, he was fairly oblivious at the best of times and honestly thought that it was just the fear of the potential unknown lurking beneath. What if it was an escaped alien? They had a few in the cells at the moment and it wasn't entirely implausible. He reached for his Glock – fired only once and even that had glanced off a traffic light – and held it out before him, safety on. He could always fake it, as he didn't think he was capable of shooting anyone or anything. He was there to heal, not hurt. He turned a corner quietly, shivering a little himself as he descended from the blissful warmth of the main building into the colder depths of the vaults, and forced himself onwards, gun raised...

To find Marcia asleep. Nick breathed a sigh – half relief, half annoyance – and shoved his gun back into the waistband of his jeans. He stepped forward and crouched down next to the young weapons specialist, brushing her hair from her eyes with a light touch and shaking his head. ”You're a pillock, you know that?” he muttered under his breath, exasperated. She wasn't doing herself any good pulling these all nighters, and she wasn't helping anyone else either. Sure, their catalogue was up to date but what good was that if they were an officer down when they really needed her? He considered the possibility of demanding as her doctor that she took a day or two off to rest, while moving his hand to her shoulder and shaking lightly. ”Marcia? Sia?” He was careful to be gentle, not wanting to startle her out of her precarious perch on the chair. ”Time to wake up, Marcia. Guns to clean and... well, coffee to drink I guess. Whatever you'd prefer.”[/size][/ul]

[marciasydes]

[/i] it needed to be done, then all the better. She was ahead of the game, if she could manage to do that, and that was something that was definitely good, in Marcia’s books.

Still, she had somehow managed to drift off into sleep and that wasn’t exactly something that she would have liked to have done very much: she’d needed to finish cataloging everything, and then she would have been able to go home and go to sleep then. But no. Not only had she not finished cataloging everything that she had wanted to finish, but she had fallen asleep at Headquarters. Lovely. She slept at work, she woke up at work, she worked at work, and then repeated the cycle. Absolutely enthralling, was it not? Marcia could feel someone brush her hair a little out of her face, and she shifted a little, but not so much that she would have fallen over, or fallen out of the chair. It was a little surprising perhaps, simply because she hadn’t expecting anyone to be there that morning, really, and so the gentle touch took her a little by surprise, even in her sleeping state.

This wasn’t shown quite so clearly in her reaction, a simple shift, but was present all the same. A slight frown crossed Marcia’s features when she heard a sort of buzzing near by her, and it took a moment or so before she was able to tell that it was someone’s voice speaking to her. She wasn’t quite sure if she had really heard it, or if she was imagining it though, as either was a distinct possibility: she was still mostly asleep, after all. Still, after a moment she was able to mostly make out what was being said to her, the voice very familiar now that she could tell that it was indeed a voice. Marcia could feel someone shaking her shoulder gently, and made a gentle noise of protest, not really wanting to wake up that much. Not that she had much of a choice in the matter: she was already starting to come around a little more. Marcia could barely make out the words, and upon hearing him speak, Marcia frowned, her eyebrows furrowing together a little at his words. ”Tell me I didn’t fall asleep.” she mumbled beneath of her breath, sounding frustrated and sleepy. She couldn’t have fallen asleep, could she? Marcia opened one eye lightly and groaned. ”Bollocks.” she grumbled a little, opening her eyes and sitting up properly, rubbing her eyes a little. She’d fallen asleep! This was ridiculous.

At least there hadn’t been anywhere for sunlight to come streaming into the room: that would have been a rather rude awakening indeed. She didn’t like it when it was the sun that woke her up; it hurt her eyes a little, and she preferred an alarm clock, or another person to wake her up. Admitably, she would have preferred not to have been woken up at work at all; she would have preferred to never fallen asleep there. Marcia ran her hand through her hair a little before glancing over to Nick and raising her eyebrow a little. ”Morning… what time is it?” she asked, a little more to herself than out loud, before looking down at her wristwatch and then back up at him with her eyebrows raised a little once more. ”You’re here early.” she noted with a nod.
[/ul][/size]

[dominic]

so here we are again ,

[/color]
^{I MADE A VOW, TO CARRY YOU HOME... HOME, I REALLY TRIED TO DO WHAT YOU WANT
ED, IT ALL WENT WRONG AGAIN. I MADE A VOW, TO CARRY YOU HOME. IF YOU FALL SI
CK, IF YOU PASS OUT. I FIGURED IT OUT, I CAN SEE AGAIN, I CAUGHT A GLIMPSE, BUT}

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -[/color][/center]

[/i] to wake her up, the movement made him concerned. Would Marcia kill him for waking her? Would she just be a bit irritable? Would she be perfectly fine with it? Maybe he should have gone back up the stairs and brought some coffee back with him to appease the potential monster that could arise. It wasn't like this was the first time he'd woken any of his colleagues in the building, although most (including himself) managed to make it to the sofa upstairs before collapsing to the dark depths of blissful oblivion each night. He couldn't blame her, though. Marcia was dedicated. Scarily dedicated; at times he found her a little intimidating with just how devoted she was to her job. He was loyal to Torchwood, of course, and he enjoyed his job but he wasn't entirely sure if he could find the level of loyalty that meant a stiff night in an uncomfortable chair like she had. Or maybe he just liked sleeping too much. Maybe he'd never know.

He shifted backwards on his heels at the first shift and was unable to hold back a small laugh at the groan of protest that he elicited from his volatile colleague, regardless of the consequences. The laugh quietened to a soft smile, admiring how adorable Marcia was when she was asleep. It was too cute really and he felt a minor stab of regret for not letting her sleep longer now. It didn't matter now, however, as she seemed to be coming around. Nick pushed himself off the floor, dust covering the knees of his jeans as he rose and grinned at the blonde before him as her eyes fluttered open. He shrugged lightly, shoving perpetually cold hands into his pockets and rocking back on the balls of his feet. “You didn't fall asleep,” he deadpanned, before breaking out into a grin again. “Of course, then I'd be lying and you'd have to whack me round the head, and to be honest about it, I'd rather not have a concussion.” The redhead really couldn't help but snigger at the expletive that came from soft lips and, aware of the potential danger of laughing at a half-asleep weapons specialist, took a few steps backwards to lean against the tabletop.

Hand moved to neck, rub, a small nervous motion as he felt embarrassed about being caught up on the time he usually arrived. Nick looked at the ground for a moment before glancing back up to Marica and smiling weakily. “You're here late,” he countered, before sighing slightly. “I was gonna try to surprise everyone by being in early but... Well.” He gestured at the room as a whole with his hand, leaving his neck bare once more and dropping the hand in his lap, playing with a loose thread near his knee. Blue eyes flickered to the tabletop, eyeing the items lying around warily before returning to his companion once more. “Just what the hell were you doing, anyway?” Paperwork was the bane of Nick's life, so much that he sometimes forgot it even existed. It took a lot of chasing to get the Englishman to do such necessary work and even then he was generally awkward about it. A small part of him grumbled for asking such a mundane, pointless question so early in the morning when coffee was obviously the first thing that should have been on his mind. Why didn't he just turn on his heel and walk upstairs, hoping that Marcia would either carry on with her work or follow him to relax? It seemed like the sensible thing to do. Instead, he just watched her, concerned. She didn't look in the best of health to him and he entirely blamed her stubbornness for it. A lack of sunshine, fresh air, rest... Even one of them would have been beneficial to her, and Nick briefly entertained the thought of getting one of those weird sun lamp things for the basement. Maybe a plant or two, but then who would take care of them?[/size][/ul]

[marciasydes]

[/i] what people would call a morning person: yes, it was true that she was up every morning around six o’clock or so, and was fully awake and functioning by six thirty, but unfortunately her less-than-cheery nature about most things didn’t allow her to be as pleasant in the mornings as some other people. Therefore? She definitely wasn’t a morning person, and it was no surprise that most people would have been a little hesitant in bothering to wake her up in the mornings. And that was why alarm clocks were most definitely a good thing – if they didn’t exist, she would never get up on time. And even still, the fact that the quality of her sleep the night before was less than up to usual standards nearly guaranteed that she wouldn’t exactly be in one of her best moods ever. She hadn’t even managed to make it up the short flight of stairs up to where the couch was, as she normally might have. She hadn’t even quite so much as realized that she had even fallen asleep until after it was that someone had bothered to wake her up that morning.

She shifted back in the chair a little and yawned slightly, running her fingers through her hair and breaking up the loose blond curls that were there. She made a slight face at Nick’s slight sarcasm, though the corner of her mouth twitched a little unwillingly in a slight resemblance of a smile. ”Oh, haha. I highly doubt that I could give you a concussion… intentionally, at least.” she said with a slight shake of her head, rolling her shoulders a little and trying to work out the kinks that she could feel building up already in her shoulders and her lower back. Well, she was definitely going to regret falling asleep in that chair the night before, which was for sure. And something told her that even a fully restful nights sleep in her own bed wasn’t going to get rid of the aches that she was going to start feeling a little later in the day, even worse than the ones that were currently starting to creep up over her. Maybe she shouldn’t have bothered to stay so late, or at least bothered to leave a little earlier than she had been planning on before she’d fallen asleep. Although, it was true that planning had never been one of Marcia’s strongest points when it came down to the every day things in her life.

It was strange, really, how she could somehow manage to maintain weaponry easily, and make sure that she was to work on time: it was funny how she could somehow manage to draw up any sort of battle plan, any sort of strategic tactics to approach a situation, and yet she couldn’t find any way to plan on the simple things in her own life. Ironic, perhaps, but true. Marcia raised her eyebrow a little as Nick gently countered her statement, and the corner of her mouth twitched once more in slight amusement as she considered his statement. ”Ah, sorry to ruin the plan.” she said with a slight nod of her head, stretching a little before leaning back in the chair that she still occupied, closing her brown eyes for a brief moment. She took in a slight breath, trying to adjust herself for the course of the morning, before she heard Nick speak once more, and opened her eyes to look at him. Marcia nodded a little to the weapons that were still out on the table, and the catalog book that was open next to them.

”Cataloging. We had some of the newer weapons that I needed to make sure were in the books, and then I had to go back through some of the older ones and make sure that they were up-to-date.” Marcia admitted with a slight shrug. ”Obviously, I didn’t get all the way through them, which means that I’ll need to finish them today,” Marcia added, before pausing and looking thoughtful. ”Damn, I’ll probably have to stay late tonight again.” she mused aloud, sighing a little at the thought. And that was why she had wanted to finish it all the night before.[/ul][/size]

[dominic]

so here we are again ,

[/color]
^{I MADE A VOW, TO CARRY YOU HOME... HOME, I REALLY TRIED TO DO WHAT YOU WANT
ED, IT ALL WENT WRONG AGAIN. I MADE A VOW, TO CARRY YOU HOME. IF YOU FALL SI
CK, IF YOU PASS OUT. I FIGURED IT OUT, I CAN SEE AGAIN, I CAUGHT A GLIMPSE, BUT}

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -[/color][/center]

[/i]. His hand quickly covered his mouth, hiding the likely unpleasant sight of his tonsils from Marica's view and as the yawn subsided, he tilted his head and beamed at Marcia. Nick wasn't the most pleasant person himself most mornings (mostly due to the fact that he enjoyed being asleep and was reluctant to leave his warm bed in the mornings), but his bright feelings from his journey to work had yet to truly subside and were only risking imminent pain from his colleague if he wasn't careful. The mere fact he was happy enough to consider getting up and giving her a sympathy hug was proof enough of that.

“I don't know, I bet you could do some damage,” he replied, pondering the thought of sweet little Marcia causing him pain. Okay, maybe it wasn't the best thing to be suggesting to her right then. Still, she seemed more distracted, rolling her shoulders and trying to recover from the uncomfortable position she'd dozed off in. He'd never been the lightest of sleepers but he'd certainly never had Marcia's current problem. It didn't really seem to matter what the surface was, but once Nick put his head down, he slept like a baby on whiskey. The smile on his face softened a little, taking a downturn towards a frown as he shifted his position, leaning against the table still. “Hey, are you okay? Bit stiff?” he queried, not wanting to be too overbearing but natural mothering instinct and habit spurred him on. He made a quick inventory of her position and movements, but couldn't see anything wrong exactly. Hopefully she wasn't ill. She was a bloody terrible patient and it was no secret that Nick almost feared having to patch up Marcia, although most would believe it was due to her more fearsome exterior. He just didn't appreciate the whining before he even touched her.

Marcia apologised and Nick shrugged, putting an end to that particular avenue of conversation in his mind. What did she have to say sorry for? It wasn't like she'd spoiled any huge plans for a surprise party or anything, she just worked herself too hard and short of admitting she was an idiot for allowing herself to get so tired as to collapse where she was, she had nothing to apologise for. He felt a little guilty for causing her to open her eyes once more by speaking, but at the same time felt a little proud of himself. The last thing Marcia needed was to relax enough that she fell asleep once more, at least where she was sitting. If she still needed rest (and Nick was in no doubt that she did) then she'd have to go upstairs and find somewhere more comfortable – the sofa, the autopsy table, her own bed. He didn't really mind which, as long as she didn't stiffen herself up once more. He made the executive decision that he wasn't leaving the basement without her and once his mind was made up, it took a will stronger than adamantium to change it.

Nick glanced at the weapons as Marcia spoke, lifting one hand and picking up a small, innocuous pistol from the table and held it out in front of him in minor disgust. Weapons. Ugh. It was quite possibly the one part of his job that he truly disliked, despite his best efforts to think of it in other ways. Knowing his colleagues left the building and often killed the creatures that ended up on his autopsy table was enough to make his stomach turn, and holding the tools themselves made him feel guilty, as though he should grab them all and dispose of them somehow. He'd received weapons training, naturally, but he didn't like having the knowledge and had never discharged the Glock issued to him into anything thicker than cardboard. He did his best to mask his distaste but likely didn't do a good job of it. “Well, next time you need to do something this huge, ask for help, okay?” he offered, shaking his head. “I'm not good with them, but I can write down numbers and descriptions with the best of them.” At her final disappointed words, Nick's head shot up and an uncharacteristic glare crossed his features. “Oh no you don't. You're going home tonight and you can finish the catalogue tomorrow if you don't manage it today. Doctor's orders, okay?” He sighed and gestured wildly, gun still in hand. “I'm not having you collapse on us in the middle of the day. Your health is more important than a few toy pistols.”[/size][/ul]

[marciasydes]

[/i] ticked off to the point of being emotionally compromised.”[/color] She said with a shrug of her shoulders, nonchalantly considering whether or not she were actually capable of hurting someone. A memory of junior high school came back to her briefly, to a fight that she had gotten in when someone had stolen her lunchbox from her, and Marcia smiled a little to herself. ”I do have a pretty good right hook.” she mumbled, though this was more to herself than to Nick. Still, she stretched a little to roll her shoulders, aware of the kinks that had built up there over night, before she heard Nick once more and nodded slightly. ”Well, yeah, but hopefully it’ll go away. Maybe. Okay, probably not, at least not today, but I can still function, eh?” she agreed with a nod of her head. Pausing, she smiled a little before sighing and letting her arms rest once more. ”You are such a medic.”

A slight smile crossed Marcia’s features when Nick picked up one of the pistols that was laid out with the rest of the weaponry on the table, looking at it and showing obvious disgust. Marcia couldn’t help but smile a little at it. Sure, it wasn’t exactly the kind of job that everyone would enjoy. Just because she was a weapons specialist it meant that she was violent, or something, or that she was sadistic. For Marcia, it was more of the mechanics of it than any of that sort of stuff. But still, that was the usual reaction that came from people who knew what she did. Her sister-in-law Rosalie kept saying that it was the most butch job that a woman could have, but Marcia had never let anything like that faze her. Nah, Marcia didn’t like hurting someone or something any more than anyone else could, at least any normal person: but sometimes it was necessary for self-defense, or the defense of an entire planet. ”Hey now, it’s not going to bite you, you know. It’s not like we go around shooting things willy-nilly with it.” she said with a shrug of her shoulders, her brown eyes leaving the gun for a moment and instead looking up at Nick once more, hearing his next words.

Marcia rolled her eyes a little. ”It’s not that big of a deal: it’s part of my job, that’s all, and therefore it falls under my category of things to do.” Marcia said simply, knowing that it was true anyways. It wasn’t something that anyone else needed to bother with, because it wasn’t anyone else’s specialty; things like this were what Marcia had been trained for, what she enjoyed doing, and what she was good at. She didn’t mind having to do them, either, as it wasn’t as though it interfered with her life: this was her life. At least, the majority of her life was consumed by her work. Still, Nick continued to speak and Marcia raised her eyebrow a little at him. ”I can do it by myself, thanks. “ she said, sounding only a little defensive, before she paused and considered her previous tone. ”Thanks for the offer, but I can… handle it.” Marcia rephrased, the previous moodiness edging out of her voice. She had a tendency to snap at people without quite thinking about what she was saying, or in what sort of tone that she was saying it in; Still, as of recently, she had naturally been starting to listen to the things that she had been saying, and occasionally reprimanding herself for them. It wasn’t as though she opened her mouth intending to be insensitive all the time: it just happened and she really couldn’t help it.

Nick’s next phrase caught her by surprise, not so much the words to it but rather the tone, as well as the glare that had crossed his facial features. It was rather unusual to see him like that, and Marcia raised her eyebrow at him a little in skepticism as he spoke. ”Oh, yes, mum.” Marcia said sarcastically, folding her arms over her chest a little and crossing her legs. Of course, she knew that he was definitely right about her needing the rest, but that didn’t mean for any reason that she would let him know that he was right: Marcia had much too much pride when it came down to that sort of thing. ”What are you going to do, throw me over your shoulder and carry me back to my flat? Because, you know, there’s a word for that, and it’s ‘kidnapping’, which, just in case you didn’t already know, is illegal.” Marcia added with a nod of her head, obviously quite defiant to the idea of being told what to do, even if it was for the betterment of her health. Marcia had never been the kind of person to follow orders given to her that weren’t directly given to her under a direct authority figure, and even then she didn’t exactly follow orders in the most polite of manners. She’d always been that way, for so long as she could actually remember.

Watching Nick gesture in a slightly uncontrolled manner, the gun still in his hand, Marcia stood up almost immediately and grabbed his wrist quickly. ”Hey, hey now – for one thing, I think it’s more my business than yours as to whether or not as I would fall over on you lot; I wouldn’t actually let myself do that. My health is a completely different subject. And for another thing, that toy pistol could put a fatal hole right through your skin – I wouldn’t be playing around with it if I were you.” She said firmly, nodding down the pistol that he had picked up off of the table that she’d been cataloging then night before. ”Especially considering that that particular toy pistol doesn’t use bullets, but rather an alien solution of chemicals that I have yet managed to decipher. All I can really tell you about it is that while, yes, it could put a whole through your skin, it does it acidically.” Marcia added briefly, looking at the gun once more and frowning a little.
[/ul][/size]

[dominic]

so here we are again ,

[/color]
^{I MADE A VOW, TO CARRY YOU HOME... HOME, I REALLY TRIED TO DO WHAT YOU WANT
ED, IT ALL WENT WRONG AGAIN. I MADE A VOW, TO CARRY YOU HOME. IF YOU FALL SI
CK, IF YOU PASS OUT. I FIGURED IT OUT, I CAN SEE AGAIN, I CAUGHT A GLIMPSE, BUT}

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -[/color][/center]

[/color] The ideal thing really would probably be a massage, get the blood flowing around her limbs a bit more than it was, but he was a bit too nervous to suggest such a thing even in a medical capacity. He liked her, trusted her, but was too embarrassed and flustered to get that close to his colleague. That was just... well, weird. His eyes lit up as Marcia teased him and he shrugged. “It's in my job description, sorry, I can't really help it.”

He frowned a little as Marcia almost scolded him, staring at the gun in his hands. Well, how did he know it wasn't going to bite him? It was one of the most exciting and terrifying things about working at Torchwood – that element of the unknown. Would this gun bite him, or was it simply an Earth gun that he knew nothing about? Not that the latter was all that hard, seeing as he made no real effort to remember the subtleties of the worksmanship behind each weapon. Was it really a medical device he was waving around, dumped in the wrong area of the building simply due to the familiar shape of a vessel for death, or was it exactly what it said on the tin? And there was the history of their organisation to consider too. A group dedicated to the survival of the human race, regardless of the cost. That's how it read to him. It wasn't how they acted now, but sometimes Nick couldn't help but wonder how easy it would be for them to fall into the same patterns. Instead of repeating such thoughts, he merely replied with a “I guess so”, before settling his hands in his lap, fiddling with the chamber of the weapon. He liked to keep busy, keep his hands moving when his body couldn't.

It was impossible to miss the harsh tone of Marcia's voice and it was all Nick could do to stop himself flinching. He was used to tempers flaring and words gaining sharper edges around this place and it didn't often phase him, unless he felt it was uncalled for. In this instance, he honestly felt it was uncalled for. Yes, it was her job and no, he didn't think that she couldn't handle it but he was just trying to be helpful! Still, grumbling about it wouldn't do anyone any good – if anything, it would likely make things worse, at least for himself. He didn't enjoy being angry and calmed himself quickly, counting to three before inhaling and smiling pleasantly, nodding as Marcia continued in a politer tone of voice. He rather imagined they'd be having this argument again at some point, but that didn't matter for now. They were always going to clash heads so why try to fight it? “I wasn't trying to say you weren't, sorry,” Nick apologised, sincere as ever even as Marcia defended her capabilities, not wanting her to think he thought less of her. “I guess I just...” He paused, unsure of what he really wanted to say. Worried about her? Well, that much was true and didn't really need saying. Wanted to help out? Again, a little obvious. In the end, he just shrugged and allowed a small laugh. “I don't know. The offer's there if you need it, okay?” He never really knew what to make of Marcia's abrupt tone of voice and did his best to let it wash over him like everything else in life, but he couldn't help admire her drive and determination.


Calling him Mum didn't really appease him any, although Nick had a more than a sneaking suspicion that she wasn't trying to appease him at all. “Don't be like that,” he grumbled, waving his hands round a little more in annoyance, clutching the weapon in one hand once more. He entertained the mental image of himself doing just as she suggested, somehow gaining the brute strength to try and lift up what would likely be a fairly vicious kicking, screaming woman back to her house, but continued. “I can make it a demand, go to Woods and say that it's imperative for you to take time off.” Both of them knew he'd never do such a thing, but he thought it sounded a decent threat at any rate. The medical evaluation was important in all settings, even more so in a role such as theirs, and if he deemed any of the team unfit for work, they technically should have been pretty much buggered. Then again, when did anyone listen to him around here unless they wanted to? Maybe he just shouldn't bother – he already felt himself faltering and he'd barely just offered up a threat! How pathetic was that?

Marcia's sudden movements shocked Nick a little and he fell slightly back into the table, his free hand leaning behind him to steady himself even as his colleague grasped his other wrist. He looked from Marcia to the weapon and quickly put it back down, a trace amount of fear etched into his face. “And you said it didn't bloody well bite,” he retaliated, ignoring Marcia's apparent belief she could look after herself. He wasn't so sure about that, considering she'd fallen asleep down here of all places, but bringing it up again wouldn't have been for the best. He glanced back at the weapon again and couldn't help but watch Marcia warily. “Acid, really?” he asked, shuddering a little. “That's... That's creepy.” Who the hell would want to shoot acid at another person?[/size][/ul]

[marciasydes]

[/color] she admitted with a nod. It wouldn’t kill her to wait until after work, possibly, and she would be able to deal with anything there. It wasn’t that hard to fix, but unpleasant, indeed. His reaction to her light teasing made her smile slightly. ”Well, I’d certainly hope that it would be somewhere in the job description, otherwise I don’t think I’d let you get anywhere near me with that medical equipment of yours.” she added with a nod of the head. She was already bad with anything that came down to medicine. She hated needles with a passion, and stethoscopes were always cold to her. She’d never liked it, and probably never would. Marcia nodded a little at his admittance, or slight-admittance at least, to the weapon the he was holding.

Sighing a little at his words, Marcia ran her hand through her hair and nodded a little. ”Ah, no… M’sorry. Early mornings aren’t my thing.” Marcia admitted a little awkwardly; she never had been very good with apologies, mostly because she had never felt the need to apologize for things most of the time. She looked over to him, however, when he had started to speak once more, and Marcia nodded a little, pulling her hair over her shoulder. ”Yeah… right, thanks.” she agreed, biting her lower lip for a moment. Still, upon hearing his next words, Marcia couldn’t help but be slightly amused. ”Oh, come on now, I’m joking.” Marcia said, rolling her eyes. ”If you don’t want to be called mum, then don’t act like one.” She added over her shoulder, though she smirked a little to show once more that she was only joking. She paused a little, however, at the mention of the word ‘mum’ and for the second time looked down at her wristwatch, this time for the date. Marcia frowned. She had to pick Haylie up from school that day. Damn. No all-nighter that evening, whether she liked it or not. Hearing Nick’s next words, Marcia wrinkled her nose a little in displeasure at the thought. ”Okay, for one thing, that’s a low blow, and for another, I have to pick my niece up from school today anyways, so voila, you got your wish, no all-nighter for me, mum.” she said, crossing her arms a little and sighing slightly. She did love her niece a lot, but she had been hoping that she would have at least been able to finish cataloging everything that she needed to that evening.

A small smile crept it’s way over Marcia’s features and she nodded once more, looking at the pistol that he had just set back down onto the table. ”Well, it doesn’t bite, if you want to get technical. It just, you know, burns a hole through your skin about the size of a golf ball.” She said, only slightly teasingly. And yet still, her brown eyes darted to the weapon briefly, and she looked only slightly displeased by it, slightly put-off at the site of the weapon. Even Marcia couldn’t help but to show dislike for a few things, on rare occasion. Marcia frowned when Nick spoke again and looked from the weapon back up at him. ”Acid. Yeah, personally, I can’t say that I’ve got a taste for it either. Burnt myself the first time with the bloody thing before managing to get the burn with water. Burns like a bitch, I’ll give it that.” Marcia scowled a little, thinking of the slight burn that was on the back of her left hand. Very unpleasant. Still, she looked down to where she still had Nick’s wrist in her grip, and let go, flexing her fingers a little as she lowered her hand back down to her side. ”Sorry ‘bout that. Just didn’t want anyone getting hurt.” She said with a shrug.

That particular weapon had been one of the nastier ones that Marcia had come across in her line of work, and she had a strong distaste for it, though she didn’t ever let her distaste for any of her weapons show through: She supposed that it sort of gave off the wrong impression for a weapons specialist to be displeased with any of the weapons that they had to work with, even if that current work only involved cataloging. She knew that she still needed to find out what the chemical compound was that the weapon used, at some point, but she simply hadn’t had time to take it up to the computers and give it a proper run-through. That bothered her a little, but she knew that she would have to make some time for it eventually, even if that just so happened to mean staying behind again for another late night. Though, admitably, she’d end up having to space her all-nighters a little more sparsely, lest Nick actually decide to tell Woods that she needed to take time off. She definitely didn’t want anything like that happening to her: she loved her job way too much.
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