An Awkward Apology

It was early the next morning when T'Pren came by the Infirmary again, less confused this time, but not particularly confident or thrilled to be there. Still, she'd come to do this on her own volition, and after a night like the one she'd just had, she was feeling considering more compassionate than when she'd last seen the new doctor.

She wasn't in uniform today, despite the fact that she had previously been scheduled, instead wearing an oversized and very worn lilac-colored sweater that had a neck so wide it hung off one shoulder. Her pants were a soft brown and her hair, as usual, was down over her ears.

The half-Vulcan paused just inside the door to get the lay of the land. This time she knew exactly who she was looking for.

The android was putting some surgery equipment through routine sterilisation to start the morning. They noticed her enter, and their yellow glass eyes flickered over her, surmising that not only did she look healthy, but also better than yesterday.
"Hello Lieutenant Inabnet," Zíma said coolly, straightening to their full posture. "It's a little early for another hypospray refill, I'm afraid." With the accompanying smile, Pren had no choice but to assume Zíma was attempting to tease her.

"I've only used the one you saw me use," T'Pren replied frankly, reminding herself mentally that she wasn't here to pick a fight but to mend one.

She stepped a little further into the room and crossed her arms awkwardly under her chest. "Do you have a moment?"

"Yes, I do," Zíma led her to a more private part of the infirmary so she could be honest about whatever was troubling her.
"Are you unwell?"

"I'm fine," T'Pren promised with a little smile, following Zima to a room particularly familiar to her from drop-by gossip sessions with Regan. "I just wanted to apologize for the way I behaved yesterday. It was neither called for nor fair. And certainly not the way to welcome the new doctor." Her smile grew slightly, earnest in its humility. "It's been a very long time since I've had to answer to anyone but Doctor Ozan with regards to my health."

Zíma stared at her a moment, puzzled by this unexpected apology.
"I am not capable of being offended," they said at last, with an emotionless smile.

"I am," T'Pren replied with a lopsided, self-deprecating smile. "And I was. But I shouldn't have been. You were doing your job and doing it well."

After a moment's thought, she added, "I suppose I can't expect every doctor to understand my inner workings quite the way Doctor Ozan does. Anyway, I'm sorry. And I'd like to start over, if you don't mind."

"I remember everything that happens to me, and cannot un-remember it unless I malfunction.  But I think I understand your meaning." Zíma noted while reading Ozan's extensive research on T'Pren that her fascination and familiar relationship with the young woman almost certainly made her unable to treat her with objectivity.  They suspected that any treatment given was to make T'Pren happy, rather than making her well.

Zima earned a funny little smile at his response and T'Pren offered out her totally steady hand to shake the doctor's. She didn't even need to prepare herself for the mental invasiveness because robot! "I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance. And I have no plans whatsoever for using more of my hyposprays than you've already provided me within the appropriate amount of time."

"I'm so glad to hear that," Zíma said, shaking her hand.

There was a slightly awkward pause after that, in which T'Pren wondered if the doctor actually was glad or could be glad...and decided it was really none of her business. She gave a sincere but thin-lipped smile. "Anyway, I'll leave you to it. I have a mandatory day off." She didn't sound particularly happy about it. "I'm sorry again."

"Try to enjoy your day off," Zíma advised her.

"I don't believe I've been given a choice in the matter," T'Pren noted over her shoulder on her way out the door.