Ian Mcgregor stopped short outside of the door to his office. He held the file underneath his arm tightly and took a deep breath. He did not want to go inside.

Not because he didn't like his job. He did. He loved it, in fact. Not because he was now involved in a grisly murder investigation. He'd seen and handled his share of the aftermath of many violent and particularly disgusting affairs. (But we'll not get into his private life right now. )

No, Ian didn't want to go inside his office because of the two men who stood inside waiting for him. He didn't like them. That's putting it mildly. In fact, on some days he rather wanted to stab their eyes out with a large, blunt object.

Blunt. Hmm. What had he done with that "cigarette" he'd had earlier this evening? "Bugger it. . ." He finally said, puffing up his chest and loudly opening the door to his office and stomping in. "I hate you all. I want you to know that."

Mcgregor didn't wait for a response from the two men. He plopped down into his chair and tossed the file onto his desk towards the men. "Well, the hammer's definitely the murder weapon. Damn nasty one, too. Bits of bone and brains all over it."

The first man, with his white suit and hair, picked up the file and flipped through it sadly. William Paragon hadn't known Emma Sigfried, exactly. But it seemed they may have met once or twice in passing. He was rather sure that was her in Marakesh, at least. But, who could remember?

Edmund Gaunt's face gave no trace of whatever emotions he may have been feeling inside. Paragon passed the file over to Gaunt, who held it in his hand. Gaunt held the file for a moment, saying nothing. After a few moments, he stood and placed it back on Mcgregor's desk. "Fascinating. . ."

Gaunt turned, looking out through the window of the door in Mcgregor's office. ". . .but nothing we didn't know already."

Mcgregor leaned back in his chair and muttered under his breath. ". . .damn Vulcan. . ."

Gaunt raised an eyebrow and turned to him. "What was that?"

"You heard me, Spock!" Mcgregor started, leaning up and pointing a finger at Gaunt while a cigarette dangled on his lip. "Everytime you come in here with your damn "aloof" personality and your dark clothes, my patients get frightened!"

" Your patients have every right to be frightened." Gaunt replied, so casually that Mcgregor almost didn't catch his meaning.

Mcgregor nearly swallowed his cigarette as his eyes widened. "Get. . .out!" he screamed between coughs. "Get the hell out of my office! I mean it, Bill, get him out of here!" Mcgregor hacked out, as Nurse Piper ran into the office and smacked him on the back, attempting to ease his coughin.

"Yes, I think it would be best if we left now." Paragon said, as the two departed.

Spock, indeed, Gaunt thought to himself as they walked towards the elevator.