Angela doesn't take terribly well to the peace either, but the missions to other planets have kept her busy in waves— if not directly by tending to some herself, then by the influx of patients that followed such outings, bruised and broken or clawed up from some alien monster or another. The highlight of those slow days was the promise of good company and luxurious coffee breaks, but emphasis on good company. And she was just about due her usual visit, she notes.
Beyond those from home occasionally swinging by or messaging her over the network, Ahab was a scheduled presence that either came by or hailed her every couple of days, and David was on the daily— he had been since the first week she'd arrived on the Moira, finding the quiet hours of the gym together and sharing mission after mission. Shiro was also fairly regular with his biotic arm, scheduled checkups— and then more recently there was Kurt. And more frequently, York. She's rather spoiled by those who surround her, well aware that she's blessed in her friendships and their presence in her day to day.
It's a pleasant surprise, then, when after one more patient there's a knock at her office door and she glances up after a brief moment to finish jotting down a sentence and she's greeted not only by York's familiar face, but the brightness of flowers in his hand— and she's quite clearly delighted to see him (and such lovely flowers, here in space) if her bright smile is any indication. They don't even have to be for her; Angela hasn't seen flowers so vibrant in some time and they're a visual treat even in passing.
"York; you've changed it up today, I see."
His name is spoken with fond warmth, pen set down and chart slid up to the corner of her desk before she rises in greeting to move her coat from her other chair.
for meeeeeeeee? bats lashes
Beyond those from home occasionally swinging by or messaging her over the network, Ahab was a scheduled presence that either came by or hailed her every couple of days, and David was on the daily— he had been since the first week she'd arrived on the Moira, finding the quiet hours of the gym together and sharing mission after mission. Shiro was also fairly regular with his biotic arm, scheduled checkups— and then more recently there was Kurt. And more frequently, York. She's rather spoiled by those who surround her, well aware that she's blessed in her friendships and their presence in her day to day.
It's a pleasant surprise, then, when after one more patient there's a knock at her office door and she glances up after a brief moment to finish jotting down a sentence and she's greeted not only by York's familiar face, but the brightness of flowers in his hand— and she's quite clearly delighted to see him (and such lovely flowers, here in space) if her bright smile is any indication. They don't even have to be for her; Angela hasn't seen flowers so vibrant in some time and they're a visual treat even in passing.
"York; you've changed it up today, I see."
His name is spoken with fond warmth, pen set down and chart slid up to the corner of her desk before she rises in greeting to move her coat from her other chair.