AN: Sorry about the delay, dear readers. Isn't it annoying when real life interrupts your hobbies? I'll try to get the next chapter out more quickly.
AN2: Oh, and timeline wise, the first couple of chapters are pre- "Smith and Jones," for most of the characters, so it's about 2008.
-DW-
When the man next opened his eyes, his headache had faded somewhat, and he was flat on his back in a hospital bed.
"Oh, you're awake! How are you feeling?"
The man looked towards the voice and saw an attractive young black woman in what appeared to be a doctor's coat.
"Fuzzy in the head… bit of a headache. Hey, aren't you a bit young to be a doctor? I want a proper doctor." the man said, frowning.
The woman returned the frown, "I'm still a student, but I will be a doctor soon. Your proper doctor, Dr. Palmer, will be along shortly, but I'm afraid you'll just have to deal with me for now."
"Okay, Ms. Student Doctor, what happened to me?"
"It's Martha Jones, sir, and I must first ask you: what is the last thing you recall?"
"If I knew, would I bloody well ask you?!"
Martha tried to keep a calm demeanor despite the rude man before her, "Okay, let's start with something simple. What is your name?"
The man's frown deepened, but he remained quiet.
"Sir, your name?"
"I don't know," he replied, as a new doctor arrived on the scene.
"So, Ms. Jones," Dr. Palmer began, not noticing what he was interrupting, "What can you tell me about the patient here?"
"The patient collapsed at the library and those at the scene were unable to wake him up, so they called for an ambulance..."
"Really, Ms. Jones," Dr. Palmer interrupted, "I know you are new, but you really need to work on your delivery."
"Sorry, sir."
"Let's move on." Dr. Palmer replied. "What are the patient's complaints?"
"The patient is complaining of a headache and doesn't remember his name or how he got here."
"Do we have a name on file for him?" Dr. Palmer asked.
"Yes, sir," Martha responded, "He had a passport on him, listing him as a Mr. James McCrimmon."
"Mr. McCrimmon," Dr. Palmer finally addressed the man, McCrimmon, directly, "I'm Dr. Palmer and you're in hospital. I understand that you're having trouble with your memory." McCrimmon nodded as Palmer continued, "We're going to see if we can find why you fainted and what's causing your memory loss. Ms. Jones is going to run a few tests on you, see if that helps us narrow things down."
Mr. McCrimmon, grumpy from the headache and memory loss, didn't try to hide his grouchiness, "You're entrusting my health to this girl? She's not even a real doctor – she even said so."
Dr. Palmer, accustomed to such patients, calmly replied, "Mr. McCrimmon, this is a teaching hospital. Ms. Jones will be with you, but I will still be overseeing your care. You'll be in good hands the entire time. I'll check in with you in a few hours." He then pulled aside Martha, so that they were out of earshot of the patient, "Ms. Jones, I want you to stick to this patient like glue. We'll forgo rounds for tonight."
"But, sir, the man thinks I'm just some girl."
"And with your age and gender, he'll hardly be the first. Consider this your first test. If you can't deal with one grumpy old coot, then how are you going to deal with a room full of them?" Palmer continued, "No, I want you to take charge of this patient. Go through the concussion protocol and then get a CT. Page me when you're done."
