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"Priscilla. Hey, Priscilla. You can stop now. He's dead."

Someone yanks my shoulder, hard too. Damn him. I open my eyes and seeing the white sheet I realise where I am. Why do I always have to zone out like that? The smell of the operating room fills my nose. I have no choice but to look at the man I am holding. Well, his hand. And that's no use any more as he's dead. "Are you okay?" It's doctor Holden's voice. I nod. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks for not entirely dislocating my shoulder, " I say as I rub my face with both hands. "I need a coffee. Or something stronger. What went wrong? And since when is the scent off-limits?"

The doc shakes his head. "Same thing as so often, he was in too late. Bar fights are mean things and people with burst-guns and rip-knives are the worst ingredients. He was on the wrong end of too many."

With a simple movement one of the nurses covers the dead man's face. "Get lost, Pris, you done four now. You guys are allowed three a day tops. Move or I kick y'out." Lorna's her name. "You were in so deep, you didn't smell the bottle."

I get up, my knees and back aching and cracking, everything popping back into place. "You guys need guys like us-" I start to lecture her but Lorna grabs me by the arm and drags me to the door. "Scoot or I'm a go kick your ass!"

Before I scoot I ask her why she's so obsessed with my butt, then I quickly leave. I know she will kick me and she kicks hard. Once outside the operating room I lean against the wall and rest my head against it. I should not have been so stupid to do four people again today. It's going to kill me but there are not many menaces. I shake my head at the stupid name but it's shorter than mental anaesthesiology assistants. "Hey, Prissa."

Tom comes walking up. Tom's alright, he's a safety guy. One of the few allowed near the operating rooms. "You look like you need some cheering up."

"I'm fine, Tom, " I lie, "did not overdo it today and only one died, so that's a good thing I guess, right? How are you and the wife and kids? No more problems with the neighbours?"

He hooks his arm around mine and with a grin he pulls me away from the wall and towards the cantina while I keep talking. I always keep talking. Tom is one of the few who never tells me to shut up and just breathe, he's not much of a talker. He pushes me onto a chair and gets coffee. "Here. Drink. This is strong, " he simply says as he puts the mug in front of me. While I try to sip the hot, black stuff he tells me about his family and that the problems with his neighbours are almost dealt with. "Just hope Josh lays low, " he ends his account. Josh is Tom's son, a bright little hothead who is always on the barricades when there is something that smells like injustice. And Josh has a nose for that. Gets him in trouble a lot because there's plenty injustice going around everywhere. "Are you out gaming or stuff again tonight?" he asks me while I burn my lip. "Ouch, damn. No, games are off tonight, it's Flyer night, remember?" I remind him. "I'm going over to Bashir's, the others are too but we're not sure if Dolores will make it. She has to work."