Steinman guided Moema into the party. She was in a slim buttery yellow gown that pooled around her feet with a muted navy blue shrug. Her hair was gathered loosely over her right shoulder and blue beads accented the ensemble with gold trimmings. She looked like she belonged if you ignored her skin-tone and Brazilian features. She recognized a few people, but the one that stood out the most was the one and only Andrew Ryan. If Moema were completely honest with herself, she was thrilled to be here.

Who wouldn't be? "These things can be so stressful, so…" trailed off Steinman.

Moema glanced up at him and quirked her brows at him, "Who would have thought, the surgeon is hesitant with Upper-Class crowds."

"They ask too many questions and want favors for favors…" he scoffed, continuing to guide her towards Andrew Ryan. "I don't operate like that."

"Sometimes it can be beneficial, Doctor Steinman." She responded.

"Ah, Steinman!" greeted Ryan, offering a convincing smile. "You have brought a guest!"

"Evening Ryan. This is the young woman I was speaking to you about…" Steinman mirrored the smile.

"Oh?" Andrew Ryan looked towards Moema. "You never said she was Ethnic." Chuckled the man.

"What does Race have to do with successful Surgeries and Medical Care, Mr. Ryan?" asked Moema. "The illness' and emergencies do not care about who is available to tend to a Patient… And those that undergo surgeries are unconscious for said surgeries."

"Did you go to Medical School?" pressed Ryan.

"What makes you think an Institution would accept a person who was not white, much less a woman, Mr. Ryan?" she scoffed. "I did not need an expensive and uncaring institution to teach me what I know. I am perfectly capable of reading." Despite her being utterly serious, the group of well-known men laughed.

"I like you…" Ryan chuckles, approached to shake her hand. "I think, perhaps, it is time the Supervision of your Surgeries ceases and you become a legitimate Doctor. What field would you prefer?"

She offers a small scoff-like laugh, "Mr. Ryan, there are a variety of different Doctors, some not even Medical… And, although I am fair at just about every assorted type of Medical Practices, I would prefer to remain in Cosmetic Surgery. That field is only dominated by Doctor Steinman and the office has become swamped with Clients. It seems most Logical to stay in that particular field."

"I could definitely use the help." Nodded Steinman. "Moema Suero would make a terrific Cosmetic Surgeon."

Ryan pulled a face as if saying "Alright" and nodded, "What do you say to that, Miss Suero?"

For a moment, she blinks up at him, "Doctor."

"Hm?"

"It's Doctor Suero." She reiterated, smirking.

Ryan laughed, causing the other men to laugh as well, "So it is! Forgive me."

Moema moved around the various groups, introducing herself as she went. She had thoroughly surprised the Upper Class of Rapture with niceties. Now that the party was well off into the night, she decided it was time to call it a night and left. As she sat in the Bathysphere, having told the worker where she wished to go, someone else pressed in just before the door was about to shut.

"Leaving the party so soon, sweet heart?" came an accentuated accent.

Looking up, Moema found herself face-to-face with the man who had been talking to her moth- to Maiara. "I have work tomorrow, so if you'll forgive me…"

He scoffed, sitting right next to her. When she scooted away, he latched onto her arm and said lowly to her, "Don't do that, Doll…"

She sighed, "If you persist, I will neuter you Mr. Fontaine."

"Oh!" he laughed, "So you know me!"

"Only fools don't know you." Came her reply.

"So, you'll neuter me, eh?" he chuckled, releasing her arm and leaning against the back of the chair.

"I've neuter countless pets before coming to Rapture… Shouldn't be hard to remember." She stated, looking straight ahead.

"…" all he did was study her features and give a vague smirk. "This got somethin' t'do with your mother?"

"Don't have one." She states, glancing towards him with a warning look. This only instigates laughter from him. "Was there a joke?"

"Nah, Doll… I coulda swore you called little miss Maiara 'Mother' just a few days ago." He went to brush some hair aside, but the clench of her jaw made him smirk and retract. "Musta been my mistake, Doll."

"Must have." She nods once and glances to one of the various posters.

"So, I hear that there is a new Doc in Rapture!" he blurts, sitting straight and readjusting his jacket. "That wouldn't happen to be you, now would it, Doll?"

"My name is not Doll, Mr. Fontaine."

"Oh, excuse me." He retorts.

"You can call me Doctor Suero." She finishes, "I'm a new Cosmetic Surgeon."

"Ah, work gettin' too hard for ol' Steinman?" he jokes, running a hand over his hairless head.

"Too abundant." She corrects semi-falsely.

"If you say so, Doc."

She sighs and shuts her eyes a moment. At least Doc was better than Doll!

"Maiara tell you anything?" Frank states after a brief silence.

"…" Moema glanced towards Fontaine, "No. Was there something I needed knowing, Mr. Fontaine, that she did not tell me?"

There is this semi-smug look on his face as she gives him a cold and calculative look. They stay like that a moment before he scoffs and shakes his head. "No, Doc. Be glad that she didn't tell you nuthin'."

"Surely you're not attempting a subtly vague threat, Mr. Fontaine..?" Moema asks, readjusting to sit straighter. Christ! When would this thing get to where she needed it?! "Subtle and Vague are unjustifiable from you, it would seem."

He scoffs, "You know, you got a smart mouth."

"You sound like a Gangster I ran into once…"

"Oh yeah?" challenged the man. The other man, the worker, remained silent and stared anywhere but the two. It wasn't his business. "How'd that go? You smart mouth him, too?"

"He was threatening one of my patients. He pulled a gun on me and I severed the tendons in his wrist, making his entire hand completely useless." She looked towards Fontaine slowly, "I then told him that if I ever saw him in my part of town again, I would feed him to the wild dogs in tiny pieces."

Fontaine quirks a brow and readjusts once more. "He ever come back?"

"Yes."

"You do like you said?"

She tries very hard to quell the smirk, but fails and glances away a moment before returning her gaze to him, "What sort of person would I be if I were unable to keep my word?" It was semi-true. She'd cut the Don up in self-defense when a dog came, sniffed the blood and, having devoured various rodents, decided to attack the Don. Tore him apart, allowing Moema to escape. She'd never been more afraid in her life. But she didn't have to tell all of the truth to Fontaine, now did she?

"Hoo, hoo…" chuckles Fontaine, "You are one serious Doc."

"I care about the welfare of my patients, Mr. Fontaine." She crosses one leg over the other, "I refuse to let some white Gangster threaten those in my care."

"So I see." He nods. The Bathysphere stops and Fontaine stands, "This is my stop, Doc." He steps out but looks back at her, "We'll be in touch."