Coincidences Don't Happen ((1919))

[victoriousscarf]

Mac glanced over at him, keeping his eyes on the Russian Blue now rather than the ceiling. "Decent enough," he said quietly, trying not to think of the betrayed look Tugger would give him whenever he came home late. Or when he would have to spend the night out and didn't show up again until the morning. "Not great or anythin' but that's life."

[Meadowlark]

Doc nodded very slightly at that as he cleaned the wound. "What were you doing that a mistake resulted in such an outcome?" He sat back slightly, sterilizing a needle, it wouldn't need much, but a couple stitches likely wouldn't go amiss on this one.

[victoriousscarf]

Mac blinked at him for a moment before actually turning back up to the ceiling. "It wasn't my mistake," he said. "It was the idiot runnin' the operation..." Which hardly answered the question. He took a deep breath. Somehow he didn't want to actually come out and say something about how he was part of a gang turf war to the other.

[Meadowlark]

The word 'operation' had been enough to start Doc's thoughts in that direction. He frowned very slightly as he stitched the wound shut. "I see."

[victoriousscarf]

Mac's eyes flickered back over to him. "You do?" he asked, voice tired.

[Meadowlark]

"To some extent. In this town there's usually two reasons a cat gets shot." He answered, wrapping a bandage over the stitches and starting to clean up.

[victoriousscarf]

Mac was tempted to push himself up into a sitting position but didn't have the energy. "Oh? What what are those usually?"

[Meadowlark]

"Either shooting at somecat and receiving gunfire in return or getting caught in the crossfire of and interaction like that. Something tells me this was not a case of the second."

[victoriousscarf]

Mac chuckled a little darker at that. "Then you're probably right, I certainly wasn't in the second case."

[Meadowlark]

Doc grimaced in distaste at that as he rose to return the kit and shears to where he'd found them. "Figures."

[victoriousscarf]

Mac watched him, frowning slightly. "Well, it looks like you made a terrible investment then."

[Meadowlark]

Doc glanced at him in confusion. "What?"

[victoriousscarf]

Mac considered, and pushed himself up on his arms, dragging his body so his back rested against the couch arm, keeping both his legs on the couch. He hated to be laying flat on his back around anyone, especially toms. The only time he was alright with it was--he cut that thought off before it finished, looking over at the Russian Blue. "Oh, just somethin' you said four years ago." He paused again. "What am I goin' ta owe you for this?"

[Meadowlark]

The doctor shrugged. "It's not that much of a problem."

[victoriousscarf]

Mac narrowed his eyes at the doctor. "Not ta much of a problem? You dragged me over here, and don't think I didn't notice you were limpin' ta. What do I owe you?"