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"I've seen some weird shit in my time. Try me." If it's the weed kicking in or if it's just his general disposition, is hard to tell, but he grins and kicks back further into a more comfortable position. "I'll give you a penny to hear that."

Struggling with stitching a gash on his forearm. The surgeon needing stitches. Joke of the year.

"How much do you want? Name a price." If it's money, it's no problem. Their bank account is flush with blood money. "I believe in suspending my disbelief until something can be disproven, beyond reasonable doubt. That includes anything supernatural."

Furiously washing his hands. A patient died on the table.

Dragging himself out of the apartment, obvious bags under his eyes.

A miracle.

Okay, an unlikely event, then.

Pulling the door open slightly, meeting gaze behind glasses. "No, I'm alive."

He glances back at the mess of books on the floor of his apartment, then shrugs. "No, why?"

A brief sigh and a pinch to the bridge of his nose as he opens the door wider, beckoning her to come in. "Depends how much and what for."