"When the moon is in the seventh house, and Jupiter aligns with Mars...." --The 5th Dimension, "Aquarius"
"Saturn has 18 confirmed moons. You want me to name them?" --DeskCop
Frank, "Such Sweet Sorrow"
Luka bellowed along to Queen on WJMK as he drove to work:
Buddy you're a boy make a big noise
Playin' in the streets gonna' be a big man some day
You got mud on yo' face
You big disgrace
Kickin' your can all over the place
Singin'
We will, we will rock you
We will, we will rock you
He glanced at the dashboard clock of the Volvo... it worked! If he ever bought another car, he decided, he was going to take Dave along to help him pick something out, and to hell with masculine pride - the guy obviously knew cars.
As he approached the hospital's parking garage, he frowned in confusion as he saw Benton's car back away from the entrance and drive away. How strange! He wondered if there was something wrong with the gate system, but he couldn't see any problem - the guard was there in her booth, and there wasn't any sign on the gate. But it wasn't any problem for him to get in, and he shrugged as he headed for his space. He paused with the engine running a moment longer, to finish out the song, with its extended "we will, we will rock you" chorus, and then switched off the ignition and stretched happily.
The paperwork had been completed, and he and Kerry were now empowered to make medical decisions for each other if - God forbid! - the situation should ever come up. He laughed softly... he and Nik were in such different places now, that he wasn't entirely sure he trusted his brother to follow his wishes.
He got out, and shivered slightly as he jogged to the entrance on this floor of the garage - it wasn't too cold today, but September was beginning to wind down into October, and summer was definitely over... he'd need to switch to a heavier coat soon.
He surveyed the ER as he came in... not very busy at the moment, but he knew how quickly that could change. "Good morning, Haleh," he said as he strolled in and headed for the lounge to exchange his regular coat for his lab coat and stethoscope.
"Run for it, Dr Kovac," she urged him, and he frowned.
"Is Dr Weaver in a bad mood today?" She'd left as he was barely out of bed and staggering for the coffee - she'd started a pot of his brew, and relied on the fumes to wake him up - pausing just long enough to kiss him.
"Worse," Haleh muttered grimly. "She has zucchini for everybody."
* * *
Benton threw his car into reverse, and drove away from the parking garage. What the hell did that guard mean, his pass was invalid?!? Obviously it was some kind of screwup; he'd go inside, and check on it. He took a spot on the street, and sighed as he fed the meter. That wasn't going to be much fun, to have to come out here every couple of hours to put in more coins - he had never been the kind of doctor who used his students to run personal errands (they were, after all, there to learn how to be doctors, not to learn how to pick up dry-cleaning or put coins in parking meters) - but hopefully he'd get everything straightened out quickly, and could move his car before the time on the meter ran out.
He reached across to the passenger seat and grabbed his briefcase, which had the journals he wanted to get read at some point, then headed inside.
* * *
Millicent "Gamma" Carter watched her grandson uneasily as he prepared for his first day back at work. His hair was still slicked back and wet from his shower as he concentrated on the plate of eggs (sunny side up) and toast (golden brown, with a sheen of real butter - the cook didn't hold with any of that "margarine" nonsense) in front of him. "John, are you absolutely sure you want to do this? To go back to that place? If it's just a matter of wanting to be a doctor, I can get you an interview with a hospital that's... well... safer." Carter looked up from his breakfast.
"No, thank you, Gamma. I can do this. I want to do this. I'll be all right. Besides, I'm only on for a few hours today, and then I'll be home right after I go to a meeting." She watched him as he shook a small yellow pill out of a vial and tossed it down his throat, following it with a healthy slug of fresh-squeezed orange juice. She sighed.
"I suppose I feel better that you'll have Kerry keeping an eye on you." Carter looked a little pained at the reminder that his boss was also his aunt - it wasn't nepotism at all, but it was pretty damned weird, nevertheless - but decided that it was useless to protest. Gamma seemed to feel guilty... feel that she'd let Kerry down by not making sure she was adopted as planned. Maybe she even felt a little rejected, that Kerry was so wary of the Carter family (to the point of wanting to sign papers that officially severed any and all ties with them); Carter didn't blame Kerry for that caution. They were a messed-up bunch, the lot of them, and most of them hadn't done anything to make her feel welcome at that dinner the evening of his return.
Then again, he was regarded as something of an odd duck by his relatives - he'd avoided going into the family business, in favor of being a doctor, and he wasn't even in one of the big-money, high-profile specialties like surgery or cardiology - he worked in a county hospital, in the emergency department, on a lot of people who were more likely to be the recipients of charity than guests at a Carter Family Foundation charity ball.
He bolted the last of the eggs and toast, finished off the orange juice, and wiped his mouth with his napkin. "Delicious as always, Rosa," he told the maid - her sister was the cook - and got up. Rosa smiled, and moved to pick up the dishes.
"Gracias, Dr John. I hope your first day back goes well."
"Thanks, Rosa." He was far more nervous than he wanted to let on... he was terrified of the idea of going back to County. Back to where he'd been injured, where he'd begun stealing drugs, where he'd assaulted the man who was the closest thing he had to a mentor... they weren't quite friends, but he and Dr Benton had a lot of history together. He was afraid of how the others would receive him... Mark had assured him that he'd have the full support of everybody there, but how could the man speak for everybody at the hospital?
He couldn't say anything, though - not in front of Gamma, who'd take his admission of fear as an admission that she was right. And... maybe she was right. But he had to at least find out if he could do it - his parents and all the others hadn't succeeded in pushing him to go into the family business, but they had succeeded in pushing him into a mentality of not running away... even, perhaps, when he should.
* * *
There was a large pile of zucchini on the table in the lounge - Luka vaguely remembered that Kerry had been carrying a large shopping bag on her way out - and Kerry was carefully putting some in a bag clearly marked "MALUCCI". Dave had been the first to volunteer to take some, and Kerry wondered if he was really intending to use them in cooking, or if this was part of the crush on her that Luka was still convinced that Dave had, that he was taking the zucchini to make her happy. At least Dave's volunteering had pushed other people to agree to take some off her hands, too.
"Why'd you plant so many zucchinis, Dr Weaver?" Chuny carefully avoided looking at Luka while she asked... she wasn't sure that she wouldn't start giggling, if she did.
"Maybe she thought they were pretty, but didn't realize just how much they'd produce," he 'suggested'. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, he'd explained to her, to plant a little extra so he'd have plenty for the recipes that he liked. At least the tomatoes were being a little more reasonable in their output - Kerry had, at one point, suggested making ketchup with any excess, and then began giggling when he glared at her. She couldn't understand why he hated ketchup, with its vinegary smell and taste, but liked pickles; he couldn't explain it, either.
Kerry cast a sly little glance at the two of them; even she was perfectly aware that she was being teased. "Yes, that's right, Luka. It, um, it seemed like a good idea at the time." Chuny smirked.
"Hey, this is the first time you've planted anything. At least, planted enough to bring in extras." Kerry ignored the innuendo in the young woman's voice.
"Just make sure you take several zucchini home with you, Chuny," she said, as seriously as she could. Chuny gave Kerry a little Cheshire Cat grin.
"Oh, of course I will, Dr Weaver."
* * *
Carter grumbled at the traffic this time of day, and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel for a moment before turning on the radio for some news. Rosa had poured some coffee into a travel mug for him, along with just the right amount of cream and sugar, and the mug was perched in the holder right next to him in the Jeep; he took a quick sip and put the mug back as the cars in front of him finally started to move.
* * *
As Kerry quickly got Luka up to speed on what all was in the exam rooms and curtain areas, Dave dropped off a chart and went to erase the case from the board. Luka did a quick double-take at the sight of the man's dandelion-yellow hair. "My God," he whispered to Kerry, "can you believe it?" She snickered at his stunned reaction.
"Yeah. You'd almost think he was trying to catch Carter's eye."
"Oh, that's right - he comes back today."
"Yep. Now remember--"
"No drugs, no traumas, no surgical procedures. I remember." Luka shot Dave another amazed glance. "I just can't believe he did that."
* * *
Benton entered the hospital through the main entrance, and went straight to the surgical floor, where he tried to log in to the computer to check one of his patient's labs. What the hell? Once again, there was a problem. He looked up from the keyboard, and nearly had a heart attack... it was like something out of one of those horror movies he and Jackie had sometimes sneaked out of the house to go see (Ma had always pretended that she didn't know about it, but he was pretty sure, in retrospect, that she'd been perfectly aware of their late-night jaunts). Look up, there's the monster. In this case, though, it was look up, there's Romano. Scary enough.
"Dr Romano. Maybe you can answer a question for me...."
"Shoot, Peter. So to speak, of course." Damn... how could someone be so annoying with just a few drawled words?
"Why is it that I couldn't get into the parking garage earlier, and can't get into the computer now?" Romano made a show of surprise, and oh dear, and tongue-clucking, but Benton just knew that Romano knew exactly what he was talking about.
"Oh. I guess you didn't receive your letter, then."
"Letter... what letter?"
"The letter informing you that your privileges at County General have been revoked, of course. Your little call cost me a $50,000 fine, that my malpractice insurance won't cover. Plus, the hospital got slapped with a great big old EMTALA fine, which means that County General no longer has the money to fund a surgical attending. And that means you." Benton stared at him, shocked.
"So... what is my position here, then?"
"You have no position," Romano told him coldly.
"So I'm fired?" Romano sniffed disdainfully.
"You fired yourself, Peter," Romano snapped, and walked away.
* * *
Luka and Jing-Mei bantered easily as they dealt with the patient who'd abruptly gone into v-fib; he liked the girl, and liked the way that they worked together so well. It wasn't the same as the way he and Kerry worked well together, but it was still good to have a colleague who was so talented and intelligent. And incredibly focused - he agreed with Kerry's assessment, that Jing-Mei would be the perfect candidate for Chief Resident, next year. Dave had the raw talent, Luka believed, but... he was simply too inconsistent. He could be right on fire one day, and then spend the next few days showing up late and disappearing whenever the "boring" cases needed to be treated.
"Shall we try Mr Williams at 300?"
"Why not? Survey says...." They looked up at the heart monitor, which still showed the jagged, frenzied, ragged edges of fibrillation: no change. "What about 360?" Luka offered her a "go for it" gesture... the body bucked, and the rhythm smoothed out. They then prepared to ship Mr Williams up to CCU, continuing to talk.
"So what do you think you'll do with your zucchini, Jing-Mei?" She grinned at him.
"Maybe a nice stir-fry," she teased. "Or zucchini chop suey," she suggested, in an exaggerated Chinese accent that had Luka snickering. Kerry paused by the open doorway - she'd been passing by on her way to deal with another patient, and was drawn by the sound of laughter. Specifically, Jing-Mei and Luka laughing together.
She walked as far as the doorway, and glared at the two of them. "If the patient is ready to be transferred, he doesn't need both of you babysitting him. We have other patients who still need to be examined." And she walked on stiffly and rapidly, trying not to analyze why the sound of her lover laughing with another woman should bother her so much... after all, it wasn't as though she'd caught them having hot sex right there on the exam table!
* * *
Carter stepped inside, almost hesitantly; he hadn't been in here since May. His gaze wandered to the door where he'd rushed out of here after madly grabbing things out of his locker... where Dr Benton had followed him, and goaded... pestered... argued him into getting into Mark's van and going to the airport. He could see Deb and Dr Kovac hard at work on a patient, in one of the trauma rooms.
Dave was the first to approach him. Carter gawked at the man's yellow - it was past blond, it was that stark, almost fluorescent color that Carter almost never saw on a woman - hair. "What happened to your hair - did you lose a bet?" Carter asked, but Dave ignored the question.
"Hey! Welcome back, Hoss. The Chief's gonna train me on the sternal saw today - cross your fingers that we get a good penetrating trauma!" With that, Dave bounced away again, almost like some kind of fluorescent-yellow, scrub-wearing, Italian version of Tigger... Carter managed to rein in his thoughts before he could start assigning other Winnie the Pooh characters to his coworkers.
A woman's high-pitched voice came from his right, babbling in Spanish... oh. She was diving into a mop bucket, again and again... drinking the water, apparently, judging from her wet face and hair, and the slime of filthy mop water around her mouth. "Necesito agua, tengo sed! Por favor, necesito agua!" Chuny was trying to drag her away from the bucket, with little success.
"No, no! No hace eso, es asqueroso!" Carter turned and stared down at the woman. Whoo. Nothing like starting off the day by encountering a thirsty lunatic.
"Hey, Chuny. Looks like you have a nice case of polygenic polydipsia. Why don't you check her 'lytes, and get a psych consult down here." Chuny barely managed to restrain herself from rolling her eyes at him - duh!
"Gee. Great idea, Dr Carter."
* * *
Jing-Mei got off the elevator, having just dropped off Mr Williams in the ICU, and saw John talking to Chuny. She hoped everybody would take it easy on him, on his first day back; since she'd been in on the intervention, back in May, she knew the real reason behind the restrictions Dr Weaver had placed on him - ostensibly, they weren't "restrictions", they were "a temporary lightening of responsibilities, in order to accommodate the leave time taken during the summer for lingering health concerns". She doubted, though, that not even those who hadn't been at that intervention had been fooled by the euphemisms.
"Hi, John. It's good to have you back." Deb's-- er, Jing-Mei's serene smile nearly distracted him from what was a little further down, and he did a shocked double-take at her burgeoning belly. "That's right, you've been gone all summer."
"That's for sure... uh... congratulations!" he said, a little dazed; had he returned to the ER of an alternate universe? Dave - and his hair - was being trained to use the sternal saw? Deb was pregnant? Wow. He shook his head, and headed for the lounge... but he was stopped by a security guard, who demanded to see his ID.
Kerry hadn't mentioned something happening that would cause security to be tightened, but he reached for his ID and showed it to the guard. "I'm sorry, sir, but that's not a valid ID. If--" Kerry came upon them and interrupted the guard before he could start in on Carter.
"It's okay. I'll vouch for Dr Carter - it's his first day back after a long vacation." The guard apologized and went away, disappointed that he hadn't had the opportunity to make that Big Bust, and she smiled at him a little tensely. "Sorry, John... I should have thought to warn you. You'll need to go up to Personnel and get a new ID by the end of the day. I guess you didn't try to park in the garage?"
"No. I found somewhere else for today." He supposed he'd been half-afraid that Mark and Kerry had just been kidding about letting him come back, that he'd get to the parking garage and find cops waiting to arrest him.
"And you haven't had any problems with the naltrexone so far - no side effects?" Carter shook his head - he just wanted to be able to go and get ready for work. "That's good." Kerry moved on... she knew there was something else she'd meant to tell him, but she couldn't think of it. Carter went in the lounge - Mark and Dr Corday were talking about whether or not something should happen at Christmas and flirting gently, and looked up at Carter when he came in.
"Carter! Good morning, welcome back!" Make that, they both looked excruciatingly happy.
"It's good to be back," he said, using what had become one of his stock phrases for answering people. "You guys had a good summer?" Dr Corday beamed at him.
"It was very, very good." Aside from the poison ivy, she thought giddily. "Oh! And we've bought a house!" Mark furrowed his brow slightly.
"And we got engaged," he added pointedly, and Dr Corday smiled meekly.
"Yes. And we got engaged." Carter laughed.
"Hey, that's great! I'm really happy for you two - have you set a date yet?" They exchanged a glance.
"Not yet," they said in unison, then laughed a little self-consciously. Carter went over to his locker, and twiddled the dial for his combination, then frowned as he unsuccessfully tried to open it.
"Huh. Things change so much over three months... Dave looks like a buttercup, Deb's pregnant, and I seem to have forgotten my combination," he said, asking Mark what the hell was going on, without actually asking the question. Mark redirected his attention from Elizabeth to Carter.
"Oh. I thought you knew - the state medical board made us clean it out, after your, ah, medical absence. You can share my locker while we look into getting you a new locker." Dammit, Kerry, Mark thought irritably, you were supposed to have told him about all that! "I'm not quite sure where the contents of your locker are, but in the meantime..." he climbed up on a chair, and wrestled a box down from the shelf over the lockers. "Pick out a labcoat and a stethoscope."
* * *
"Hey, I recognize that guy!" Luka ignored Frank's exclamation as he and the paramedics whisked the patient to a room, and was certainly unaware of Frank scuttling to the nearest computer and typing frantically... culminating in a triumphant shout from Frank, who dove for the nearest telephone.
* * *
"Hey, uh, Kerry. I came downstairs for a consult, and I couldn't help noticing that all the vending machines have... uh... healthy stuff in them." Kerry smirked slightly at him.
"Yes, that's right, Robert. I feel we should be setting a good example to the community, in the choice of snack foods offered to the public." Romano snorted contemptuously.
"Please. Junk food helps keep us in business." Kerry laughed softly and disbelievingly.
"Did you even take the Hippocratic Oath?"
"Had my fingers crossed," he assured her blithely, and stared mournfully at the packets of rice cakes and boxes of raisins and something that looked like Sugar Corn Pops, but clearly wasn't. Cleo came around him from the side.
"'Scuse me, Dr Romano," she said coolly, and put some money in... she pondered for a moment, then selected a packet of rice cakes. He watched her, appalled, as she plucked it from the bottom of the machine, and opened the plastic... then extracted a rice cake and munched on it as she walked away. He shuddered dramatically - that Dr Finch was cute, if a little skinny, but some of her habits were a little stomach-turning. That business of jogging to work, for example... wasn't that why God had created oil, and men smart enough to build a BMW or Mercedes?
"Ooough!" He refrained from noting aloud how much cuter Dr Finch would be, with just a few more pounds on her, in the right places; Kerry wasn't exactly someone he wanted as a witness to one of those kinds of remarks. "I'm gonna--" But he never got a chance to say what he was "gonna" - just then, a group of uniformed men carrying rifles burst in the door and that refugee from the John Birchers waved them over. Romano was thankful for that - he'd been just about to put himself between Kerry and those junior stormtroopers, but he wasn't about to waste a gallant gesture on a non-existent threat. He watched, as that gorilla pointed the group of heavily armed men in the direction of one of the exam rooms, and decided that it was time to step in.
"And just what the hell is going on, here?" He pointed in the direction that the armed swarm had gone, and glared at the desk gorilla - he was pleased when the gorilla looked away first.
"New policy I'm implementing, of checking the records of patients. I recognized a patient who's wanted for murder, and I called these guys in." He gestured over his shoulder at the junior stormtroopers who had re-emerged from one of the rooms. The patient was now handcuffed to his gurney, and Dr Kovac was following, protesting loudly.
"Yeah, and you do that, nobody will want to come to hospital! Everybody will be too afraid of being arrested to risk going for treatment." Romano noticed, intrigued, that Dr Kovac seemed especially wild-eyed, and that his normally excellent English had slipped slightly. The motion of Kovac's eyes was almost imperceptible, but Romano knew Kovac was looking over his shoulder, right at Weaver... probably begging for support.
"He can be taken care of in the jail ward," Romano directed calmly. "Transfer him." He wasn't quite sure what Kovac's problem was, but something wasn't right about this situation... that is, there was something a little "off" about Kovac. He could understand the guy's point about patients being uneasy about going for treatment, for fear of being arrested, but wasn't it better to get murderers locked up? The desk gorilla decided to throw his two cents in, at that point.
"Damned foreign liberals!" Kovac swung his attention in that direction.
"I wasn't talking to you!" he shouted at the gorilla, and brushed past Romano. He grabbed a new chart, at random, and headed off to find the patient. Romanoo watched him leave, then shot the John Birch gorilla a shark-like smile and took him aside gently, for a quiet word.
"You know... you really should be careful who you're calling a 'damned foreign liberal'. And be mighty careful who you call a 'damned foreigner'. Got me?" The gorilla glared down at him, without answering, then finally grunted sullenly in what could be interpreted as an affirmative reply. Romano smirked, and walked away.
* * *
Moira Garvey was a 16 year-old who was complaining of a sore throat that had persisted for about a week now. Cleo examined her throat... ew. "Looks pretty nasty, Moira. I'll get some cultures, and see what we have in there. Mrs Garvey looked on - this was one of those times Cleo wished that family members weren't allowed to be in the exam room: she'd been in Cleo's way the entire time, even to the point of obstructing the light a few times.
"It's strep, I tell you! She had something just like this last month - can't you just give me the antibiotics? This is a waste of time!"
"Mrs Garvey, please. I have to know exactly what kind of infection Moira has, so I can treat it most effectively. It might not even be strep, but I have to get the cultures so that I can know for certain." That brought the woman up short, but it wasn't very long until she started complaining again.
"Look, I'm missing work." Mrs Garvey groused. "Can't you hurry this up?" Cleo smiled patiently... or at least, as patiently as she could muster with this pain in the ass dogging her heels.
"Moira will be fine here by herself." Mrs Garvey shook her head.
"Can't you see she's scared to death? I'm not going anywhere!" Cleo glanced at Moira - she suspected that the girl's nervous behavior had more to do with her mother's presence, than any actual fear of doctors or hospitals. She sighed... she could get rid of the woman later, she supposed. In the meantime, she ignored Mrs Garvey.
"Debbie, I want to get... er... the standard throat cultures," she said, hoping that the nurse would get the hint and not say, out loud, what some of those cultures were testing for. Debbie had been in the room just as long as Cleo, though... she nodded, and made the preparations. "All right, Moira. I just need to get some swabs from the back of your throat... you may feel a little gagging sensation, but that's a normal reflex. Try to breathe through your nose." Cleo was momentarily confused by the near-lack of a gag when her swab first touched the back of Moira's throat, but a quick look with her penlight revealed none of the erosion of the enamel that would be consistent with Moira sticking her finger down her throat to induce vomiting. How strange! She finished with the cultures, and asked Debbie to take care of labelling the slides and applying fixative.
"Now what?" Mrs Garvey demanded, as Cleo gathered up the slides and prepared to leave the room in order to check them under the microscope. Debbie glanced at Cleo, a little nervous... 'please don't leave me alone in here with this crazy woman!', her wide eyes pleaded desperately.
"Now, we wait. I have to go check these slides, and see what I can find. In the meantime, Debbie, go see if Haleh has anything for you to do."
"Uh... sure thing, Dr Finch." Debbie cast a last look at Mrs Garvey and Moira, before she escaped... she felt sorry for the girl, growing up with a mother like that.
"Okay. I'll be back as soon as I can." Cleo put Moira's chart back in the rack just outside the door, and headed off to check the slides. She had a suspicion about what was really causing Moira's sore throat, but she hadn't wanted to say it in front of the mother. Mrs Garvey seemed like the kind of hard-ass who would cause a scene right there and then, and then give Moira all kinds of grief for it later.
* * *
Luka found Kerry later, in the supply room. "Hi," he said quietly, touching her sleeve hesitantly. "I'm sorry I put you on the spot earlier out there. It wasn't fair of me to expect you to contradict Romano." She smiled and shook her head.
"It's okay. Frank's new policy is no more." Luka snickered.
"Got one of your patients, did he?" Kerry started to give him the Stare of Death, then changed her mind and leaned against him for a moment.
"Yeah. She'd written some bad checks. I gave her the medicine she needed to treat her pneumonia, and sneaked her out of there. Then I told Frank to knock it off." He glanced quickly at the doorway, then kissed her.
"I know we don't agree all the time. And we're going to disagree again. Just... keep in mind that I love you, okay?" Kerry nodded, and let herself relax against him.
"I know. I love you, too." He gave her a quick squeeze, and left her to what she'd been doing.
* * *
Chuny got off the MICN. "There's a walkway that collapsed at a science fiction convention. Some pretty badly messed up people are coming in." Elizabeth sighed when she heard that; she'd been down in the ER anyway, to rule out an appy (simply a little flu, she'd managed to determine... Ms Hammond would get to keep her appendix for a little while longer).
"It's a good thing that surgical conference was postponed until next week - can you imagine the chaos, with most of the surgeons off attending that? As it is, we'll all be quite busy anyway."
She was proven right - not all of the patients brought in were surgical cases, so everybody was kept extra busy. A few turned out to be psych cases as well, so a few consults from up there were required.
Kim smiled as she finished evaluating a young pregnant woman who was convinced that she was carrying Teela Brown's baby; it was patients like this woman who made psychiatry such an interesting field: completely off her rocker, but non-violent. She marked on the woman's chart that there wasn't any indication for a psych hold, but placement in a residential home would be in the woman's best interests.
* * *
Carter had just finished dealing with a guy with splinters in his butt... or rather, Debbie had just finished dealing with him: he wasn't even allowed to handle instruments at the moment! As Kerry had explained, when he'd asked her the day after the meeting what "no trauma, no drugs, no instruments" left him with, it left him with "the opportunity to continue practicing medicine". He dropped off the chart, and tried to find something else to do, that fell within the boundaries of his restrictions... that was when he noticed Mrs Garvey and Monica, still waiting for Cleo to return. He plucked the chart out of the rack by the door, and leafed through it, to see if there was anything he could help with.
"It's okay, Carter, I've got it." Cleo came up from behind him, and coolly took the chart away from him.
"Oh. I just thought you could use a hand with this, and--" She shook her head.
"No. I have it all under control. Thanks." She smiled, but it seemed to Carter that the smile didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Cleo, do you have a problem with me being here?" She frowned at that.
"Of course I don't. Excuse me." She shook her head... what kind of funny notion did Carter have bouncing around in his head? Sure, she hadn't been happy when Peter had called her from Atlanta, but it was nice to know that he was a man who looked after his friends. Just would've been nice if he'd looked after this particular friend at a time other than when he was supposed to take her out for dinner. She paused... there was something he could do. "Carter! Wait." He turned around, and Cleo stepped back out of the exam room... she didn't want Mrs Garvey to hear. "Can you take Mrs Garvey somewhere to get coffee?"
Carter winced... now he was some kind of "doughnut dolly"? "Okay, sure. I can do that."
"All right. Mrs Garvey, why don't you go with Dr Carter... maybe go get some coffee, or he can show you around the hospital a little bit, while I talk with Moira."
"No! Moira needs me to stay with her."
"I'll be okay, Mom." It was very nearly the first words the girl had said - been allowed to say - during the course of the examination. "I'll have to go to the doctor all by myself someday." The sarcasm went right over Mrs Garvey's head, and she reluctantly nodded. Cleo sat down on the chair next to the exam bed, and took a deep breath before she began to speak: it was always hard to deliver news like this.
"Moira, your Gram's stain tested positive for gonorrhea. But luckily there's no indication of syphilis or chlamydia. Now treatme--"
"Gonorrhea? No, that's not possible... I'm still a virgin!" Cleo steepled her fingers patiently.
"Nevertheless, you have what's known as pharyngeal gonorrhea. Have you had, um, oral intercourse?"
"Well... yeah. But that doesn't count, right?" Sure, Cleo thought. We'll just explain to the nice gonorrhea that oral sex doesn't count as sex, and I'm sure it'll apologize for its mistake and move right along.
"I'm afraid it does, Moira. You need to let your partner - or partners - know about this, so they can be treated, too." Moira looked a little shell-shocked... Cleo couldn't really blame her. It was so idiotic of parents, to think that keeping their kids in the dark about sex was going to protect them from sexual misadventures.
"Are you going to tell my mom?"
"I can't do that. But I think you should tell her. I'm sure she worries about you, and she just wants what's best for you. In the meantime, I'll write you a prescription for ceftriaxone and doxycycline. Now when you say you're a virgin... has there ever been any time, at all, that there's been any exposure of your genitals to your partner's? Any leakage of fluid?" The question sounded dumb, Cleo knew, but as misinformed as this girl was, she might not be aware that actual penetration wasn't always necessary for conception to occur.
"N-no. We've always kept our clothes on. Except for, uh, you know." Moira sniffled a little, but remained essentially composed. Cleo smiled - this time the smile did reach her eyes.
"Okay. If there had been any chance of you being pregnant, no matter how remote, I would have prescribed erythromycin, instead of doxycycline."
"So doxycy-- that other one, that's bad for pregnant women?"
"That's right, Moira." Cleo finished writing the prescription and tore it off her pad, then handed it to Moira. "Remember, you have to finish up the entire prescription, take all the pills - don't just take it until you're feeling better. But if you have any allergic reactions to the antibiotics at all, I want you to see your regular doctor immediately, or come back here. Okay? Ah, here's your mother." Mrs Garvey re-entered the room, followed by Carter, who had a shell-shocked look on his own face. No surprise there, Cleo decided. Even the short time she'd spent in the woman's presence had been draining.
"That was a very interesting tour, Dr Carter. Thank you!" Mrs Garvey smiled flirtatiously, and Carter slunk away. "Moira! Are you ready to go?" Moira nodded, having been reduced to her previous mute state. "So what's wrong with her, doctor?" Moira gave Cleo a pleading look, and Cleo smiled a little stiffly.
"It's a simple infection. I prescribed some antibiotics for Moira, the instructions are right on the script. Your pharmacist can explain them in more detail when you have the prescription filled."
"Thank you, Dr Finch," Mrs Garvey told her. Moira echoed the sentiment, and trailed after her mother like a little ghost. Cleo watched them go, and suddenly couldn't help herself... she just had to laugh. No, the ignorance wasn't funny... nor was the way Mrs Garvey had that poor girl practically squashed, emotionally, but sometimes you just had to laugh or you'd go insane with the absurdity of some of the patients that came through the doors.
* * *
Carter started to head for the door, to head home, but Mark waylaid him. "Already?" Carter asked, when he saw the specimen cup tucked discreetly in Mark's hand.
"Might as well get a baseline." Carter grumbled as they went into the bathroom... especially when he realized that Mark intended to stay while he provided the specimen. "Believe me, Carter, I'm no more excited by this than you are." Mark casually glanced away, wishing that he was somewhere else. Not exactly his idea of fun, to be supervising a resident's piss test!
"So... do you come here often?" The tension in Carter's voice was obvious, even though he was trying to joke, and Mark offered a weak, hesitant laugh.
"Would you like me to run some water? Maybe that'll help you relax enough to... you know." There was a soft, miserable 'uh-huh' from Carter, and Mark leaned over to turn on one of the sinks - not too much, just enough to simulate That Sound a little... maybe get Carter to unclench just a little. "I could sing, if you like. Nice little tune? A potty song? I used to sing some to Rachel, when she was a little girl." That was a lie, actually - he'd been a horrendously overworked intern at the time, with little to no time for Jen or Rachel, let alone for singing to his little girl as she sat in her potty chair - but he could fake something, if need be. Carter laughed softly.
"Promise me you won't sing, and I'll do my best to give you a sample."
* * *
"Peter? Why are you already home?" Jackie came in the front door, and watched her "little" brother as he sat on the living room floor, playing with Reese.
"Uh, short day today," he mumbled. Jackie looked dubious, but didn't press the matter. He turned to Reese, and saw that the boy was playing with a toy telephone. "A telephone?!? Jackie, who gave him this?"
"Hell if I know, Peter. He likes it, okay?" She sighed. Peter got so sensitive sometimes....
He signed to Reese. "So what are you going to be when you grow up? A fireman?" Reese shook his head. "A cowboy?" Uh-uh. Reese dug through the toys around him, and triumphantly produced a toy stethoscope that Carter had got for him, as a joke, when he was first born. "A doctor? You're gonna be a doctor, just like your old man?" Reese nodded gleefully, and put the stethoscope around his neck, with the earpieces... well... close enough to his ears.
* * *
That evening, Luka got home to find that Kerry was already in bed... sitting in bed with her laptop perched on her knees and intent on something. She appeared to be wearing only an undershirt - a plain white cotton camisole - and panties, and she'd taken her hair down long enough to brush it out thoroughly and then rebraid it. He leaned against the doorjamb for several minutes, watching her work. She had a pen, but it was more of a prop than an actual writing tool - she twirled it, tapped at something on the screen, and held it delicately between her teeth, but it never got anywhere near anything that looked like paper. "Working on attending coverage schedules, or playing Solitaire again?" She started at the sudden sound of his voice, then smiled.
"Schedule, of course - I deleted the games that came with this thing."
"Oh. Sorry." He unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt, then loosened his tie and tossed it in the general direction of the closet. Kerry cleared her throat without looking up, and he retrieved it and hung it neatly on the rack. She smiled as he did that; it was true, that she was working on the schedule, and that she'd deleted the Games section... but Larry had helped her load up some new games.
"You and Dr Chen seemed to be very cozy today." He nodded as he finished stripping down.
"She's a nice girl."
"I think she has a thing for you." He stared at Kerry quizzically.
"You're kidding me. Jing-Mei?"
"I'm serious. I worry sometimes." He blinked, a little startled.
"Worried that I might, uh, develop feelings for her?" Kerry nodded miserably, and he climbed onto the bed to take hold of her chin and turn her so that she was looking at him.
"Trust me, draga... if I were ever to develop a- a crush on Jing-Mei, I would be sure to let you know about it."
"If you even think about suggesting a three-way..." she growled, and he chuckled. She saved the file quickly, then shut off the laptop and set it aside... she was pretty sure she knew how this conversation was going to end, one way or the other, and she didn't want the little laptop to get squashed in the excitement.
"The thought had never even occurred to me. So you wouldn't be interested in that, then?" She narrowed her eyes at him, and he laughed; then pulled her closer for a kiss.
"Jebi se," she pretended to grumble, and he smiled.
"And you *kiss* me with that mouth?" She couldn't help laughing now, at the reminder of their first Official Date. "I think you're a little over-dressed, ljubavnica. C'mon." She raised her arms, and let him remove the undershirt from her body, laughing softly as he tossed it in the general direction of the laundry. "And panties, too," he directed, tugging gently at the waistband until she obligingly lifted her hips for him; she enjoyed being stripped by him, but also enjoyed making him work a little for every square inch of fabric.
When he'd whisked the panties off her, and thrown them at the hamper, she suddenly scissored her legs around his waist, and tugged him toward her. "Dammit, Kerry!" he yelped, as he nearly fell onto her bad leg and barely caught himself at the last second. "That is not funny," he grumbled when he saw the smile and the little gleam in her eyes. "I'm serious. Don't-- don't do that." His protests weren't all that convincing, though, since he was already reaching for her; curling one large hand around one of her breasts and wriggling between her legs. Soon she sighed happily, and pulled him even closer.
* * * * * *
She let out a final scream and gasped softly as Luka nibbled wearily at her neck. When he would have rolled off her, though, to lie next to her, she held on to him. "Stay," she whispered.
"Mrm. But your leg," he protested.
"I like your weight on me," she murmured, and shifted her body around a little. "Jus' not m'leg. Here. This should work. Yeah. 'S good." She was asleep quickly, her hand still moving slightly on his head, which was pillowed on her breasts.
* * *
They woke up later, in the mood to talk. It reminded him a little of the way Danijela had sometimes awakened him in the middle of the night with a seemingly trivial question... but the subject had usually wandered far afield, into interesting new territory. Sometimes, of course, the talking had been interrupted by one of the children waking up, or even just quiet lovemaking in the small hours of the night, but he enjoyed the talking for its own sake... he couldn't understand couples whose only connection was the sex, who didn't communicate at all otherwise.
"But beba... really... the vending machines?" His voice was plaintive. "I need a Pop-Tart when there isn't time to go get real food - I've worked in a lot of hospitals since I came to this country, and I have never seen one where the vending machines have had... uh... rice cakes and raisins. Bottles of juice, perhaps - I like that - but not those God-awful little sisal mats!"
"I know. Romano's not the only one around here who can screw with people's heads, after all - the vending machines will be back to normal by the end of the week."
"Perhaps I should duct tape you to the bed for real," he grumbled. "Please don't joke around with something like the vending machines!"
"Mm... I don't know. I saw Cleo - of all people - getting a few things from it."
"You're kidding."
"Nope. I think I might have even seen Dave buying a few packets of those puffed soybeans." Luka wrinkled his nose.
"Is that what I was smelling during that case we were working on together? Ugh! I thought it was just that the patient smelled like the rancid garbage he'd fallen into." She reached over, and gave his nose a mischievous little <honk>.
"You really have a thing about soy, don't you?"
"Just so you don't ever try to make me eat soy ketchup." His voice was quivering with suppressed laughter, and she smacked his shoulder lightly as she grinned.
"You--!" He kissed her soundly, then rested on his elbow for a moment, watching her... the way she was nearly glowing right now. He liked to see her this happy... was awed that he seemed to be the one who was able to make her so happy. Other women were more obviously, more conventionally pretty, but Kerry would still be beautiful when she was old and those other "pretty" women had faded like a picture in the sun; Mrs Carter was certainly a good indicator of what Kerry would probably look like in about forty years.
"Yeah. Me," he told her softly, and he played with a lock of her
hair that had come loose from her braid. Romano was right... he was
Lucky.
POST-GAME WRAPUP:
"Necesito agua, tengo sed! Por favor, necesito agua!"
"No, no! No hace eso, es asqueroso!
is a rough translation (it's been... er... "a while" since I took Spanish) of:
"I need water, I'm thirsty! Please, I need water!"
"No, no! Don't do that, it's nasty!"
There's a very nice picture of a buttercup at http://home.earthlink.net/~iugfs/no28.htm
Teela Brown was a female character in Larry "Have sex outside my
species" Niven's Ringworld books -
the product of a long-term project to breed for the trait of luck.
Though somehow I think that a woman
being pregnant with Ms Brown's baby falls a little
outside the bounds of "luck".
Gee... oddly enough, a few games of Solitaire got played during the
writing of this story. :-)