A/N: Don't own them

Yes, this is still the same story. I nkow it's disjointed and Simon's quick to volunteer as an action hero (now with Stethoscope Action!), and there's a reason for that. All will be revealed. MWAHAAHAHAHA.

P.S. Oh, Leiasky: remember my cracked out theory? Here we go!

*******

"Dr. Tam?"

Simon stared at the patterns in his coffee, his brain peacefully resting after yet another save in the operating room. It was pleasant and comfortable, that little rush of endorphins you got from completing a particularly difficult surgery, and knowing the truth that of anyone in the hospital only you could have done it right. Reattach a whole leg. Now THAT was one for the books. Of course, it was also damn tiring. Six solid hours of reconnecting nerves and mending muscles. Good lord, he needed a nap.

So it was that Simon was so caught up in his sense of job-well-done and general fatigue that the voice didn't really intrude on his consciousness until someone tapped his shoulder. "Dr. Tam?"

"Huh?" Simon looked over the rim of his cup. "Oh, John. Good afternoon." Years of manners forced him to stand and offer his hand, no matter how tired he was. This was the chief of surgery, after all, and one didn't leave him unacknowledged if one wanted to further his career, no matter how bright it seemed. "Sorry. You caught me in an introspective moment, I'm afraid."

For his part, John - or more properly, Dr. Watson, and don't think for a second there wasn't a million running jokes about THAT name; but told privately, of course - waved Simon's apology away. "Think nothing of it, my boy. After that performance with the Nguyen child, I'm expecting to be calling you 'sir' any day now." He grinned widely, but with a twinkle in his eye that spoke of supreme confidence in his own ability, and therefore he was just kidding. Dr. John Watson was tall, fit, and always ready with a quick joke or sarcastic quip. The man could wow a group of residents with simple, homey, down-to-Earth-That-