This idea came to me one day when I was thinking about another fic I am writing. I hope you like it.
Disclaimer – I don't own anything – I even have massive loans on the things I do own.
Scissors, Paper, Rock
Carson let out a great sigh and tried to unwind the tension in his shoulders by rolling his neck. In the Atlantis infirmary, action and excitement was sporadic. But when an emergency did come about, it was a huge rush of adrenalin until the crisis was over.
This particular crisis wasn't a particularly bad one, as far as crisis go. There had been a small explosion in one of the labs. Carson called it small because it had only been a few months since they had blown up a wraith hive ship with a nuclear bomb. Connecting previously separate labs by a new hole shaped door was small compared to that.
There had been a few minor injuries. Cuts, scrapes and bruises. Easily treated by the nursing staff, while he was busy attending to the more serious injuries. Only two cases could, if truth be told, be classed as serious.
Colonel John Sheppard had come in bleeding profusely from a cut on his head, just above his right ear. He had hit his head on a lab bench when he was literally blown across the room. At some point he had also broken his wrist and gotten quite a few nasty bruises all the way down his right side, also from colliding with the aforementioned lab bench. Carson gave him something for the pain then stitched the head wound and set the arm in a cast. The secondary effect of the drug kicked in just as he was finishing up the cast, and Sheppard lay back and was deep asleep before he could even change into scrubs.
He then moved on to the other 'serious case.'
Dr Kavanaugh was semi-conscious when he was wheeled in. He had also hit his head, leaving a huge goose egg of a lump on his crown. After a proper examination, Carson diagnosed it as a mild concussion and after he fell asleep, ordered that he be woken every hour for checks.
As he walked away from the two sleeping patients he gave further instructions to the two nurses assigned to them. The instructions went along the lines of… make sure that Kavenaugh is woken regularly… call me if there are any changes in either ones condition… keep the Colonel comfortable and give him more painkillers for his arm when he needs it… don't let him leave until he has been checked by me in the morning… etc etc. The nurses answered with respectful 'yes doctor,' 'of course doctor' and managed to refrain from rolling their eyes at him telling them how to do their job. He left them with one last instruction… oh, and change them into scrubs, since they are staying the night.
Carson was pleased with how his new nurses were settling in and dealing with the new environment as well as the unexpected and strange, yet entirely normal-for-the-Pegasus-galaxy emergencies that came along.
He turned on the way to his office to watch them work for a few moments. One nurse started moving privacy screens around the two beds, while the other went to fetch the scrubs from the store room. Carson marveled at the efficiency and professionalism of his staff.
He turned again to enter his office, glancing back for a final gaze at his team; he did a double-take as he watched the nurses silently hold out their hands and do scissors paper rock. The loser threw up her hands and turned to Kavanaugh's bed, snatching the scrubs from the other nurse. The winner laughed and turned to Sheppard.
Ok so maybe professionalism was the wrong word.