Well, wasn't this wonderful. Douglas was back in the old workplace,... such fond memories. This was where he conducted his first experiments, you know. As well as some of his last major ones, before he,...'retired'. He still looked like he belonged here - he could walk into his old office and whoever was there now wouldn't try and stop him. He wasn't looking for his office, though. He was looking for Alexander.

He didn't know nor care why Alexander was spending so much time in the hospital. What mattered to Douglas was that there had been no significant advancements on the project in the last week, and he meant to bring it up.

He strode purposefully down the hall with a slight frown on his pale face and a dry-ice coldness to his steel-grey eyes.
Damn it all, it was getting late.

Well, the young doctor coming down the hall from the other direction is not Alexander--though he does know where Alexander is, even if he might not realize it. Alexander only has white streaks in his hair; Alan's hair is entirely white. (Or a a blond so close to white that it doesn't matter.) Also, Alexander is just under a foot taller than Alan, and much more muscular.

He doesn't recognize the other doctor, except for an odd, old squirming in his stomach, as if he'd eaten something nasty in the past couple hours, or the smells of some of the places in the hospital were finally getting to him.

"Good afternoon."

Just being polite and friendly as he goes by, that's all.

"Good afternoon," he returned the greeting, without a shred of emotion. Then he stopped his brisk walk, grabbing briefly onto Alan's sleeve to gain his attention. "Excuse me, but I'm looking for someone. Not a patient here, mind you - I'm looking for a certain Alexander Barclay. Would you be able to tell me where he is?"

Alan frowned, thinking...

"Tall, with black hair? Eyes that could punch through steel? That Alexander Barclay?"

Alexander is almost as famous as Keye, you know. They come as a pair, and several of the doctors have expressed a wish that it was legal to sedate him. Knock him out, even, while they examined and treated Keye.

It was very disconcerting to have him staring at one when one was trying to do one's job.

"Yes," he said. "That description seems to fit. Where is he? I must speak with him."

That's 'must' as in, tell me right now or I'm probably going to get very angry, and it won't be pretty at all, so don't make me angry, and tell me where the hell he is. Douglas was getting impatient - he usually was, anyway, so it wasn't much of a difference. Still, a Douglas who is impatient and annoyed is not nice to deal with.

"He's either in the cafeteria, getting one of his rare meals, or he's in his son's room. Want me to show you where?"

Douglas's manner is not improving Alan's stomach. He's almost certain that he ate something bad for him recently, except it's hard to do that when all you eat is vegetables and fruits and stuff.

Son...? ... Oh, the boy, he thought, feeling something faintly resembling glee, I wonder what he's in here for.

"Would, you please? That would be very helpful," he said. The aura of menace that he'd been giving off wavered and vanished. He'd found someone to take him to Alexander, and something bad must have happened to Alexander's boy. Though he resented the boy for taking valuable time away from the project, he was pleased. This day was just getting better.

"Sure. No problem."

Maybe there had been mold somewhere on one of his recent salads, or something. He really couldn't explain this sick feeling in his stomach... Could he possibly have caught a bug from one of his patients? It wasn't impossible, after all.

"This way."

He nodded wordlessly, following along in such a way that it almost looked like he was the one leading - always a half step ahead, but watching from the corner of his eye to see where his guide was going to lead him next. Feeling a sudden need to make small talk (and having a twinge of recognition playing through his mind), he asked,
"How long have you been working here?"

"That depends on whether you include residency. With it, about five years. Without, only two." Because you aren't really a pediatrician until you have three years of residency under your belt, after all.

"I know, I look young."

Funny, neither of them have introduce themselves yet. Oh well; Alan would probably recognize the name Douglas Kael. It would be hard to forget a scandal like that...

"You do look young," he nodded. Five years? He was sure he'd have seen this man before, then. Douglas wasn't one to forget a face,... though he might temporarily misplace the memory from time to time."... I was wondering if I'd seen you around before. You seem very familiar. May I ask your name?"

"Alan Gardinier. Call me Alan." He's a very friendly young doctor, isn't he. He could learn to be warier, don't you think?

He stuck out a hand for Douglas to shake, smiling his infectious little smile, the one that made even the shyest children answer with a smile of their own. He makes a good pediatrician, you know.

"And I'm afraid I don't recognize you, at all."

He shook Alan's hand, but didn't offer a smile of his own.

"Alan Gardinier,... yes, I believe I have come across you once or twice, when I used to work here,... not so very long ago. We were never formally introduced, but I always used to know everyone's name. It's no surprise that you don't recognize me," he said, with a slight incline of the head that passed for a nod, "My name is Douglas Kael."

The sickly feeling intensified when Douglas's hand contacted Alan's. That was odd, but as it didn't stay intense when the other man let go, he thought little or nothing of it. He was probably imagining it, or something.

"Now that is familiar." He snapped his fingers, trying to remember where he'd heard that name before... "Oh! You're the, um..." Pause. Flush. He probably doesn't want to be reminded of that, Alan. Shame on you.

"The what?" Douglas prompted, with a faint twist to his lips that implied a bitter smile, "I imagine you were about to refer to my dismissal and its cause?... It was a most unfortunate misunderstanding. Perhaps for the best, though. Working in a hospital is such a stressful job, wouldn't you agree."

Mad scientist, he was about to say. A few of the nurses made giggling references to Frankenstein. (Most of them thought he was some kind of sick freak, too. And they're right, aren't they.)

"The one who... yeah. You're right; that's where I remember your name from." He sounded relieved that Douglas hadn't taken offense.

Stressful?

"I guess so. Sometimes."

Sick? Absolutely.

"They made quite a big deal out of it," he shrugged, as if he didn't care. It bothered him that he'd been caught, but only because of that. "Are we nearly there? I'm in something of a hurry."
He always was.

Not a freak?

"Just around the corner, I think." He's not officially supposed to have dealings with Keye, after all. But everyone knows the pair, and it would be a surprise if Alan hadn't known where they were.

Speaking of the corner. He turned it, and actually ran into Alexander, who was coming out and probably heading to get something to eat. (Which he'd been doing a tiny bit more frequently. A very tiny bit.)

"Oh, excuse me."

He seemed to forget that Alan was even there. He turned his full attention on Alexander.

"I have been looking for you," he said, in a tone that should have been accompanied by grinding teeth. "There have been no advancements made whatsoever. You are wasting time - and you had better have a good reason. Also, I must note that I do not count your,.. your boy as a good reason."

"Fuck you, Douglas."

He's already at a disadvantage; he doesn't care at the moment what the other mage does.

And, just to make sure that Douglas has it clear: "Fuck you, fuck the project, and fuck Him."

Alan looked a little nervous, even more ill, and started inching away.

He raised an eyebrow.
"Gods - you are going soft. I thought so," he said, sounding coldly amused. "But surely you aren't saying that this-"
He gestured to the Keye's room, meaning, of course, The Boy-
"-Is more important than all the carefully-laid plans, the objective,... If so, I suggest you run over to the Neurology department and kindly ask them to examine your head."

Shrug.

"I've waited thirty years for this, Douglas. And unlike you, I can wait a little longer." He scowled. "Besides. If Keye dies--which all of them" A vicious glance at Alan, who cringed. "Seem to think will happen, I will have more reason than ever."

He does have a point.

"Why? Do you need another reason?" Douglas said. He was completely ignoring Alan - he'd deemed the young doctor harmless, "If that's what you're after, - it can be arranged. Very soon. If you're looking for another reason, I'll be happy to oblige. Put the poor thing out of its misery and all that."
There wasn't any sympathy in his voice at all. When he'd used to work in the hospital, he'd never had any problem telling people their son/daughter/parent/sibling/relative was going to die. No surprise why.

At this point, Alexander apparently forgot that he was in the middle of an Unnish hospital, with a terrified doctor looking on.

He grabbed Douglas by the throat and shoved him into the wall.

"Don't. You. Dare."

Actual sparks--or at least the appearance of them, though they didn't seem to set anything on fire--flickered around his eyes.

Douglas didn't react, or try to protect himself. A bruise or two - ah, it was all worth it to see Alexander so distraught, and losing his temper. It wasn't as if pain meant much to Douglas anyway. He gave Alexander one of his rare smiles, though it wasn't a pleasant one. It was rather difficult to breathe, or he would have spoken.
So he just stood there and smiled.

Someday, these two are going to end up killing each other. That day probably isn't today, because, no matter how angry Alexander is, he does need Douglas. He'll remember that in a minute or two.

Meanwhile, he's squeezing.

"I've told you before. Harm Keye, and you get it right back from me."

A whisper of cloth, and he glanced over his shoulder. "And you won't run off and fetch authorities, Dr. Whoever you are."

Alan froze in place, nodding dumbly. Poor boy.

While Douglas does not mind pain, he is not fond of asphyxiation. Before the spots flickering before his eyes made him too dizzy to move, he formed a fist and used it to land a blow in Alexander's stomach. He doesn't let himself be pushed around if he can help it.

He was still smiling, And if I were to kill him?

Then Alexander would kill you. And to hell with the fact that he probably does need you for this insane scheme...

He dropped Douglas, perhaps because the man had punched him in the stomach, perhaps just because he remembered that killing Douglas--in a public hospital in front of a witness, especially--would not be a very good idea.

"Go away."

"Very well," he said, twisting his head to remove the uncomfortable crick in his neck. "I'll go. But I will hear from you soon, or I'm coming back here. Don't make me come back here. If I do, you can count on a certain,... distraction being removed. Permanently."

With that, he turned on his heel and walked away.

Alexander stood silently for half a moment. Then he remembered to unclench his fists and not scowl murderously as he returned to Keye's room.

He wasn't hungry anymore.