"The problems of two people don't add up to a blah blah blah yackety schmackety!"
--Hugh Devil, Taz-Mania

Luka stretched and rolled over under the covers, and smiled at the sound of Kerry singing in the
shower. Not because she was a great singer... far from it. Still, it was oddly comforting to hear her
singing, even though she was slightly off-key - he tended to associate singing with being relaxed
and happy, and hearing her sing, well... objectively it wasn't a pleasant experience, but he liked to
think that he helped her be relaxed and happy.

"Hm... actually, I kinda like it when you're *not* quiet." She smacked his arm gently in response.

"Oh, just shut up and kiss me." He laughed softly, and obliged her.

* * *

Gamma had reported that Chase's improvement had been astonishing, but he'd been too busy with
County and his stupid meetings to make it by here lately to see for himself. "Lately"... god, it had
been *ages* since he'd been here! One of the nurses was chattering away as she led him to
Chase's room.

"He hasn't been eating the last few days, and he's very withdrawn... hasn't left his room except for
physical therapy, and even then it's been under protest. I'm sure that seeing you will be just the thing
for him." It's definitely the thing for *me*, the nurse thought as she eyed the tall man appreciatively.
He hadn't shown any interest in her attempts to flirt with him, though... she hadn't seen a ring on his
finger, but that didn't always mean anything with some men. "Cha-ase! You have a visitor!" she
sang out, as she opened the door to that room and went on her way.

She'd slipped him a can of some kind of nutritional supplement as they were walking along the hallway,
and he tossed it from hand to hand as he went inside. Chase was up, and sitting in a wheelchair that was
facing the wall. "Hey, Chase. How're you doing? They're treating you all right here? No naked nurses
chasing you through the hallways?"

That got no response, so he pulled up a chair so that it was next to Chase's wheelchair and sat down; he
made a show of mimicking Chase's posture and expression, in hopes of getting a laugh out of the other
man, but that didn't work either.

"Hey, did you know we have a new relative?" Chase simply glared at him, but he went on talking. "It's
true! Actually, it's weird... it turns out that my boss at the hospital was put up for adoption as a baby by
Gamma. All this time, I've been working with my aunt and I didn't even know it!" He sighed wearily at
the continued lack of response.

"C'mon, Chase. You gotta eat something." He popped the top on the can and passed it across the six-inch
gap between them... that might as well be six *miles*, at the moment.

"I don't want your damn *food*!" Chase took the can and threw it clumsily at the wall. The two men watched
as the brown splash of chocolate-flavored nutritional supplement trickled slowly down the wall to join the
puddle forming around the can on the floor.

"Your coordination is improving," Carter said inanely, then realized how stupid that sounded. "Um, look. I gotta
get to work. I'll stop by later, though." Chase snorted and shook his head.

"Don't put yourself out on *my* account," Chase grumbled, and turned away.

"See ya, Chase." Carter didn't look back, so he didn't see Chase swivel back to stare woefully after him.

* * *

Kerry paused at the door, and took a moment to collect herself before entering the room and taking a seat at
the table with the other department chiefs - as usual, Elizabeth was there, too, even though she was only the
associate chief of surgery. Robert excused it as her representing the surgical department, leaving him free to
oversee the meeting, but Kerry figured it was more a matter of leaving him free to ogle her for about an hour.

She took some reports and papers out of her bag and stacked them in front of her as Jack finished delivering
the latest *exciting* news from the world of cardiology. Robert pasted an insincere grin on his face for
Kerry's benefit.

"Kerry! So glad you could join us. Maybe you could deign to show up just a *little* sooner next time?" She
nodded slightly, acknowledging the reprimand.

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience. However, my punctuality won't be an issue for much longer." Robert
narrowed his eyes and frowned - *this* wasn't something he'd expected!

"What?"

"I'm submitting my resignation as department chief, effective the first of July." She hesitated a moment before
continuing - she couldn't unsay it, after all - then took a deep breath and plunged forward. "That's when I'm
going to be starting my maternity leave, and I don't expect - or intend - to have time for the additional
responsibilities once I return." The silence... the *shocked* silence... was truly amazing, Kerry thought. Janet
and Elizabeth were the only two who didn't look completely surprised, and the only sound in the room, for
several seconds, was that of somebody dropping his pen. "This gives you about five months to find my
replacement. I've taken the liberty of compiling a list of names of people who I feel would be suitable in the
position." She eased a sheet of paper out of her stack, and delicately pushed it towards Robert; he took it, but
stared at it as though she'd handed him a recipe for Bouvier stew.

"Kerry, are you completely certain about this?" Elizabeth tried to make the comment as quiet as possible, but
Robert gave her a pained little smile.

"Lizzie, Lizzie, Lizzie... if Kerry doesn't feel that she can handle the job anymore, who are we to question her
judgment?" Kerry recognized the tone - he was challenging her to rescind her resignation by insinuating that she
was afraid - and wondered if *he* was the one who was afraid.

There'd been an unspoken agreement between them - or at least an assumption of it among many of the staff in
her department - that she'd bought her position by supporting him as Chief of Staff; she would have forfeited the
price by losing the job, but since she was *resigning* that meant that she was eligible for a refund. So to speak,
she thought bemusedly... that metaphor had any number of flaws in it!

"Hey, uh," Romano pointed at the list. "I don't see your fiance anywhere on here. What's with that - don't
you think he'd be a good chief?"

"Of course I do. However, not only does he have *no* interest in it, but he has a child on the way and doesn't
want to be saddled with those extra responsibilities, either." Elizabeth smirked behind the hand she'd put over
her mouth to cover a hastily produced cough.

"Um... how'd that happen?" Everybody turned to stare at Steve, who was looking at Kerry with a confused
expression on his face. Janet glared at him, and kicked him under the table. "Oh. Uh, yeah. Right. Never
mind."

"Are you *sure* you're a doctor, Steve?" Carl's gentle question prompted a few snickers, and Steve grinned
sheepishly.

"What can I say? I work with films all day. I have no life. I haven't even gotten *laid* in three yea--" Robert
groaned, and cut in.

"Okay, can we *please* get off the subject of Kerry or Steve's personal lives, and get back to the meeting?"
For a change, Kerry was inclined to agree with him wholeheartedly.

* * *

She went down to the ER after the meeting was over. It was times like this morning that she couldn't even
remember why she'd wanted the job in the first place. The extra money was nice, sure, but it didn't make
up for all the extra time she'd put in on various adminstrative bullshit... time she *could* have been spending
helping patients directly, or doing the research that she'd once enjoyed so much. And, of course, now there
was Luka and their baby.

She glanced over at all the names on the board, and sighed... looked like today was going to be pretty busy.
Again. It would be something of a help if Mark were back, even if just on a reduced schedule, but it was
just too soon... the man had had his head sawn open, a tumor removed, chemical wafers inserted into his
brain, and he was undergoing radiation therapy. Elizabeth had said that he was raring to come back, but had
reluctantly agreed to undergo testing of his cognitive faculties before being put back on the schedule.

She found Luka with a Hispanic patient in one of the curtain areas, with Chuny translating. "What've you
got, Luka?"

"Miguel Figueroa. Lacerations to his hand, and something's broken. What I *haven't* got are his x-rays... would
you *please* call Radiology and climb on them about that?"

"Jump on them," she corrected gently, but Luka shrugged it off.

"Nail them to a piece of wood, for all I care, as long as I get the damned x-rays," he groused. Kerry mm-hmed
absently as she glanced at Figueroa.

"Have you called OSHA about his injuries?"

"Would you excuse us please, Chuny?" he asked politely, then practically dragged Kerry to the lounge, where
they could speak in private. "What the hell are you suggesting?"

"That man's workplace is unsafe. OSHA should check it out." He gestured indignantly.

"You don't know that he was injured at work--"

"Where'd he get an injury like that, then? He doesn't exactly look like he has the money to have very much in
the way of power tools."

"Maybe he bought it on credit," he snapped. "You can get all kinds of things on credit that you can't afford
with cash."

"Luka, all I'm saying is..." He sighed and shook his head.

"Okay, look. This is why I don't want you to make that call - I'm pretty sure he's in this country illegallly.
Probably his coworkers, too."

"You mean a sweatshop?" He looked confused, so she explained: "Long hours, hard work, low pay, dangerous
conditions."

"Oh. *Are* you going to call--"

"No." He looked relieved, and she smiled up at him naughtily. "But I expect you to make it up to me tonight."

"Oh? Another hormone rush?"

"If you knew how much effort it takes, to keep me from grabbing you, and having my way with you right
here and now..." He chuckled.

"Pregnancy suits you, I think."

"So you'll be wanting to do this again, then?"

"Another baby? Why not? I've seen how good you are with children."

"Let's see how labor goes with this one, first. And I want an epidural. Carol *swore* by the one she got--"

"You don't want to try humming?" He sounded vaguely hurt that she was rejecting the idea out of hand, and
she swatted him on the rear. "Hey. Don't start *that*. Not *here*, at least." He leaned in close enough to her
to whisper in her ear. "Plenty of time after we get home. Would you like me to tell you what I'd like to do
*now*, or on the way home?" She arched her eyebrows at him.

"Mmm... better wait until later."

"Later, hm? That gives me plenty of time to think about it." She nodded, and reached out to give his hand a
quick squeeze.

"Mm-hm. In the meantime, we'd both better get back out there, before everybody starts wondering - *guessing* -
what we're doing in here." He laughed, and pulled her close for a kiss before opening the lounge door for her to
precede him. She could hear somebody making kissing noises as they emerged, and hoped that she wasn't
blushing *too* much.

* * *

John came strolling in the door, and signed in briskly before turning to her. "Kerry. You wanted to see me
before I started my shift?"

"Yes, I did, John. C'mon in my office, please." He followed her in, and felt a momentary pang of unease when
she shut the door - that was *never* a good sign - and sat down without inviting him to sit down, as well...
*definitely* not a good sign! "First off, I'm glad that you told me last week about your slip with the Vicodin."
She hesitated a moment before continuing. "I want you to show me your chip."

"My chip?" John affected surprise at her request, and she glared at him.

"Your chip. Your six-month AA chip. You should have it, you should be carrying it with you, I want to see it."

"Um, I must've left it at home," he said feebly, and stared at his feet. Kerry just sighed, and shook her head.

"I can't just dismiss you. But I want you to start over with another 90 days of 90 meetings, and no handling
narcotics again, until further notice." She watched him carefully, trying to gauge his reactions... it had to be
a let-down for him, to be put back on restrictions after making it through his evaluation. On the other hand,
he'd let her get through the evaluation without bothering to mention that there'd been any kind of problem.

She waited until John had left, and only then let herself relax. Only... she counted quickly... only five months
until she could unload the position of department chief onto somebody else; she'd still, as far as she knew, be
in charge of monitoring John's progress, but aside from that... how long *had* it been since she'd been
completely free to just be a doctor?

Then again, how long had it been since that was really what she wanted to do? Acquiring the kind of power that
she had... that had seemed so important at one time. Now, though, the tedium of her administrative duties seemed
to outweigh the increasingly limited pleasure she got from being the one in charge. She half-smiled, remembering
what she'd said to John once, after she'd been disappointed by yet another unsuccessful bid for the position of
department chief - she'd told him that she was happy to be free to concentrate solely on medicine, but she'd
known even then, that that was just sour grapes.

She blew out a long weary sigh, and slapped her hands onto the desktop in preparation for standing up. Enough
of this wool-gathering... she really should get back out there before there was another explosion.

* * *

Kerry was hard-pressed to keep a straight face with this patient... he was in with a severe case of priapism after
snorting cocaine with his girlfriend before sex. "It was great for about an hour, and then it *really* started to
hurt!"

"Um... yes. Well, er, you should be able to get some relief with masturbation, eventually."

"Masturbation?!?" the young man protested. "I can't do *that*, I'm a *Christian*!" Kerry nearly bit a hole in
her cheek, in her effort to suppress her laughter, but gamely pressed on.

"In that case, Mr 'Smith', I'll have to use a needle to drain the excess fluid," she told him, as she brandished the
largest syringe on her tray. The young man's eyes became huge at the sight, and he gulped audibly.

"Um... which direction is the bathroom?" Kerry pointed in the appropriate direction, and he escaped... with an
emesis basin clapped over the appropriate part of his body. She and Haleh exchanged a *look*, silently daring
each other to be the first one to speak.

"What sect," Haleh finally said, "does that boy belong to?!? It's okay for him to snort coke, and be havin'
premarital sex, but masturbation's a no-no?" Kerry snickered.

"My parents' church missed *that* one, I think."

* * *

She and Luka took advantage of a brief lull to go down to the cafeteria for coffee and a sandwich. That is, he had
the coffee - Janet had told her to eliminate the stuff from her diet, although it still smelled bad enough to her that
giving it up wasn't that much of a sacrifice - and she had the sandwich. He practically stood over her at the sandwich
bar in the cafeteria while she constructed something that looked sufficiently healthy to him, and they took a table in
the corner, with Kerry's crutch propped up against the wall between them.

"Oh, and I gave notice at the meeting this morning," she said off-handedly, after she'd told him about how John had
reacted to the new terms of his extended probation.

"You *what*?" He stared at her in disbelief, with the coffee cup frozen in place halfway to his mouth.

"Relax, Luka," she reassured him, "I *know* you're not interested in the job. I'm not even going to leave the position
until I go on maternity leave in July - it'll give 'em plenty of time to find somebody else, and I gave Romano a list of
names for possible candidates." He hmmed, and tapped his fingers on the table top.

"That lasica has his own agendas, you know."

"Of course he does. He wouldn't have practically offered me the job of department chief in front of Mark if he
didn't have his own agenda."

"And you're just going to give it up now? As much as you worked to get it?"

"I'm tired, Luka. Before you... it didn't matter that I spent as much time as I did with paperwork." He smiled, and
kissed her.

"And you've waited this long to quit, because you weren't sure we'd last?"

"Well... I don't think I would have phrased it that way. Besides, you'd always started to panic every time I
mentioned quitting before. This just gives me a good reason to do it. This way, all the guys can exchange
high-fives, and tell themselves they just knew it was only a matter of time before little Kerry Weaver couldn't
hack it anymore - she couldn't do both family and a career." He frowned at the slightly bitter note of sarcasm
in her voice when she said the last.

"It's interesting," he began cautiously, "the way that you sometimes don't give a damn what other people think,
but then other times you care too much about it!" He ended a little more forcefully than he'd intended, but she
merely smiled at him and reached for his hand. He watched the way their fingers threaded together, and looked
back up at her.

"It's the eternal mystery that is me, you know." Their labcoat pockets abruptly began singing a duet; a quick
check of their pagers told them that their break was over. He slugged down the last of his coffee and made a
face, as Kerry took a few more bites of her sandwich and wrapped the rest of it in a napkin. "For later," she
explained quickly when she caught his look. "I'll eat it... I promise!" He rolled his eyes as she tucked the
sandwich into a pocket of her labcoat, and helped her to her feet.

* * *

The car wreck had been pretty bad - all three occupants needed immediate help. Benton and Carter got the
driver, who hadn't been wearing his seatbelt and had done a header straight through the windshield. They
rushed him to a trauma room, to begin the tedious process of trying to keep him alive long enough to get
him to an OR.

Kerry and Dave took the front seat passenger. She hadn't been wearing her belt, either, and - being shorter - had
slammed into the dashboard of the car on impact. She was covered in blood, and having trouble breathing. Kerry
called to one of the nurses to page Dr Corday down to the ER - a chest x-ray would tell them more about whether
surgical intervention was necessary at this point, but the woman's visible symptoms seemed to indicate that Elizabeth
wouldn't be making a wasted trip.

Luka and Cleo had the third one, a little girl who'd been in the back seat. She was more frightened than hurt...
amazingly enough, considering how badly hurt the other two were. Then again, she'd been wearing a seat belt,
unlike the other two. Luka was pretty sure that all the child would need - at least physically - was a few stitches,
but he and Cleo were being thorough in their examination, just to be sure.

* * *

Benton realized that he was going to have to intubate, and called to Carter to push the Versed. "I can't!" Carter
protested, and left the room as Benton yelled futilely after him to come back and give the drug as ordered. He
hurried next door, and saw Dave working on his patient with Kerry. "Dave, Benton needs you in the other room."
Dave stared incredulously - what the hell???

"No way, man, I got this covered." Was he *kidding*? This was the kind of exciting case that had drawn Dave into
emergency medicine in the first place! Sure, he was sorry that the woman was in such bad condition, but *c'mon*!

"Go, Dave," Kerry said quietly. Dave frowned and grumbled, but obediently stripped off his gloves and went. Carter
hesitantly took Dave's place, aware of Kerry's watchful stare.

* * *

Dave returned a few minutes later, looking like he was full of questions... but he knew Kerry - and that Look
she was giving him - well enough that he knew better than to ask any of them in front of her. Still, that didn't
stop him from shooting Carter a bemused glance before the other man left.

Carter returned to the other room, where Benton was waiting for him, fuming. "What the hell happened? When
I tell you to push the drugs, that's what I need you to do!"

"It's part of my agreement with Kerry," Carter replied, aware that he wasn't being completely honest about
what all was involved in his "agreement" with Kerry.

"Isn't it time for that to end? I'll go talk to her." Carter's eyes widened, and he made a soft "eep!" noise.

"No! I mean, don't do that. I don't want to look like I'm being a cry-baby about it."

"Look man... being a 'cry-baby' is one thing. Standing up for what's *right* is another."

"Just *please*... don't talk to her!" Carter wasn't reassured that Benton didn't promise anything.

* * *

It took Peter a while to find the person he was looking for, but he finally spotted Kerry. "Hey, Kerry.
Can I talk to you a minute?"

"Sure. What's up?"

"It's about Carter and these restrictions you still have on him...." She held up a hand, signaling for him to stop.

"Whoa, sorry. End of conversation. I am *not* going to talk about *that*."

"You're being unfair to him, Kerry. He doesn't deserve this!" She gave him the Stare of Death, but
he ignored it.

"Peter, I am *not* having this conversation with you! Not in the hallway, and not at all!"

"Carter's been clean since he came back, Kerry, when are you going to let up on him, huh? I would
think that you, of all people--"

"For the last time, Peter!" There must have been, she thought, some kind of betraying note to her voice;
he peered at her curiously, and for a moment saw past her desperate attempts to divert him.

"He *hasn't* been clean, has he," Peter said softly. "My God." With that, he turned and walked rapidly away.

"Peter! Come back here!" She sagged down for a moment on her crutch, and sighed. Great. Of all the
times for that man to be perceptive! She just hoped that he didn't go and do something irrational; she'd
noticed, even back when they'd worked together briefly at Mt Sinai, that Peter Benton had certain high
standards for himself. For better or worse, he seemed to transfer those high expectations to his students,
as though they were an extension - a reflection - of himself. The pressure was intense... Dennis Gant
hadn't survived it... but it had made an excellent doctor out of John Truman Carter. Or at least the makings
of an excellent doctor, she acknowledged... John still had a long way to go. But then, didn't everybody?

* * *

She found John intently studying the offerings of the soda machine. "Hey, Kerry. You want something
from here?"

"No, thank you. John, why don't you go ahead and head home? It's settled down enough, and it's close enough
to the end of your shift, that you might as well." He stared down at her - it was one of those times that she was
overly aware of the nine inches he had on her. It was strange, she thought, that she had never had the same sense
of the height difference between herself and Luka, even though he was a full foot taller than her.

"Is this about what I told you earlier? About the Vicodin?" She shook her head.

"Absolutely not!" She wasn't about to admit that Peter Benton had figured things out, and was steaming
mad - this way, John would go home early, and Peter would have some time to cool down. "You've been
putting in extra time lately. G'wan... before I change my mind." She smiled and gave him a little push in the
direction of the lounge, and John went... after a last suspicious look at her.

He found Benton working on something in the lounge when he entered the room. "Hey, what've you got?"
Benton looked up from his stack of folders long enough to deliver a glare that startled Carter for a moment.

"Med school applications."

"Really. That must be fun?"

"I'm helping decide who gets interviews."

"Oh. Dr Romano stuck you with the job?" Benton looked up again impatiently.

"Carter, just go away, will you?"

"Oh. You talked to Kerry, didn't you? I *asked* you--" He cut off abruptly, as Benton made an impatient
sound that could have been a growl. "C'mon, yeah, I made one little slip, that's all. It wasn't even really that
important." There wasn't any more reply from Benton, though, and Carter nervously hurried through getting
his stuff from his locker. "Uh, s-see you l-later," he stammered, and escaped as quickly as he could.

* * *

Carter entered the room quietly. "Hey, Chase." He set the bag down on the table, and stared at his cousin's
back, which didn't move. "I got real food this time. Cheeseburgers... and milkshakes. Chocolate's okay,
right?" There was no answer, aside from a little cough, and Carter hesitantly sneaked a french fry out of
one of the bags and munched on it as he thought. "I've been busy, you know."

"For nearly a year?" He could hear the quiet anger in Chase's response, and winced - he knew he deserved
that. "Just go away, will you?" He ignored the demand, though - he had to say this.

"I was stabbed, you know that. My student died, I *nearly* died. It's been hard for me, with all the pain I've been
in! I needed pain medication in order to function... first I was taking pain pills, then I started injecting morphine,
Demerol, anything else I could get. I got caught, I got sent to rehab, and I pretended to go along with it all - none
of that stuff applied to *me*, because *I* was special... *I* was just taking pain meds... *I* nearly died." Chase
noted the hint of self-mockery in his cousin's words, but said nothing.

"I did the program. I found a meeting and a group and a sponsor, but I didn't believe in any of it. I didn't
believe that I had *any* responsibility for any of what had happened to me... it was all somebody else's fault.
Then..." he paused for a moment, looking down, "then I nearly relapsed last month. I made excuses for a
while, but what it boils down to is that I didn't just steal some pain meds, I stole a *patient's* pain meds. I waited
so long to admit to what I'd done that my sponsor bailed on me; I've probably ruined that relationship beyond salvage."

He suddenly smiled, as he *really* heard his words for the first time, and shook his head. "The truth is, Chase, I...
haven't been by to see you, because... then I'd have to admit to myself that I'm just like you. That we're *exactly*
the same. I think about getting high all the time. It's the first thing I think about when I wake up, and the last thing
before I fall asleep. There's not a day goes by that I don't think about it. I've considered myself above you, the last
few years, but the fact is... I'm an addict too."

There was a moment of silence in the room then, "You remember to bring french fries?" Carter laughed, and
tossed one of the bags to Chase, who caught it easily. "And you got ketchup, too... my hero!" The crooked
little grin was *so* like the Chase that Carter had known once, that he couldn't help smiling too.

* * *

Luka had called Adele already, to deal with his little patient who, it seemed, had been orphaned by the crash.
He'd finally managed to pry out of the girl the fact that her name was Annie, and then he'd delivered more of
the bad news that he was so good at giving by now. Adele was in the exam room with Annie now; he glanced
in that direction every once in a while, but it wasn't out of any kind of suspicion of Adele... just concern for
what would happen to Annie.

"We'll try to find any family that she has in the area," Adele had informed him, "and in the meantime we have
excellent facilities. Don't worry about her, Dr Kovac." Easy enough for her to say, Luka thought with a huge
sigh that momentarily drew Randi's attention away from her magazine. Then the doors hissed open, and his
thoughts were distracted completely from Annie.

It had been well over a year since he'd seen her - and her sucker-punching swine of an abusive husband - but
he hadn't forgotten her. "Loren? Are you all right?" She smiled sadly, wincing slightly as the movement stretched
her split lip and started a slow ooze down her chin.

"I'm doing better than Pauly, that's for sure." She brought her right hand out of the pocket of her coat, just enough
for him to be able to see the pistol.

"Loren, what did you do?"

"He's out in the car, Dr Kovatch." She put a hand out to stop him, when he moved in the direction of the door.
"There isn't anything you can do for him. I made sure of that." He stared at her, horrified by what she was saying.

"Stay here! Which car is yours?"

"Green Toyota. License plate 451YGR. You can't help him," she repeated, but placed the keys in his
outstretched palm.

"I have to check," he told her gently, then rounded up Yosh and Chuny and a gurney to help him outside.
She watched them go and leaned back against the nearest wall; she gradually became aware of the man who
was, in turn, watching her. He was an older gentleman, fairly well-dressed, with silver hair and sad eyes. He
was, she thought, surprisingly normal-looking, considering the looks of the other people who were waiting.
He looked around quickly, then casually ambled over to her.

"Excuse me," he said softly, and Loren was struck by what a beautiful voice he had... like a radio announcer or
a stage actor. "Do you have the correct time?" She automatically pushed up the sleeve of her jacket, to look at
her watch, but was completely unprepared for what happened next. The man suddenly lunged at her, plunging
his hand into the right pocket of her coat and coming back out with the pistol as he pushed her away from him.
She cried out in panic, and the redheaded doctor - who was talking to a black nurse on the other side of the room -
turned at the sound.

"Gabe! NO!" The man turned at the sound of the woman's shout, and smiled sadly. He was still holding off
Loren's attempt to reclaim her pistol, but being very gentle about fending her off. The woman - who, Loren
now noticed, walked with a crutch - limped over to them as quickly as she could, stopping a safe distance
away from him.

"I'm sorry, Kerry. I didn't want to do this here... now... like this... but the moments of clarity are fewer, and shorter,
and I- I- I just can't *do* this anymore. Most of the time, I don't even know you when you visit. I came here,
probably hoping to steal some drugs to overdose. I just want it to be *over*. You understand, Kerry?" He pushed
Loren away from him again as she grabbed at his arm with a desperate little cry.

"No, I *don't* understand. Please... *please* don't do this!" She could feel her eyes filling up with tears, and hated
the way her voice was cracking. Gabe gave her one of those solemn looks of his, and she was reminded of how he'd
once been... and how rarely he was like that anymore.

"Kerry, please, just go. I don't want you to see this."

Her thought was, and I won't have to see the aftermath? but aloud she simply said, "No. If you're going to do this,
you're going to have to do it in front of me." She felt conflicted - on the one hand, suicide would put an end to his
rapid decline (and hadn't she recently told Luka that she wished Gabe would just *die*?)... but on the other hand,
this was a man who had been like a second father to her, despite the fact that that part of him was gone more and
more often. She also didn't understand how a gun had made it into *her* emergency department... how was *that*
going to look? And... she *hated* herself for even thinking that last, selfish part.

She'd managed to call to Malik to call Security before she rushed over... now if only they didn't take *ages* to
respond, like they usually did!

* * *

Luka tapped on the window of the green Toyota, but even a cursory glance told him that the man inside - Pauly
Johnson - was in no condition to open the door. He reached for the car keys Loren had handed him, and got the
door opened. The three of them managed to wrestle Pauly out of the car and onto the gurney, where Yosh began
bagging as Luka listened with his stethoscope.

He shook his head, and gestured for Chuny and Yosh to help him get the gurney inside. They were only a few
yards from the door when they heard the gunshot, followed by a woman's scream. "Oh, my God!" Chuny's
exclamation was involuntary, and Luka felt his gut tighten up.

"Chuny, you and Yosh take the gurney . I'm going to see what's going on in there."

"Be careful!" He nodded absently at Yosh's words, and headed for the door.

* * *

The sound of the explosion and the scream got Dave's attention immediately; he hastily excused himself - telling
himself he was just going to see what was going on - and left Lydia to keep an eye on the patient. He was horrified
to find that the sound was exactly what he'd feared it was, and gulped at the sight of the body lying in a pool of
blood... despite the damage, he recognized Dr Lawrence. It was also immediately evident that the man was well
past resuscitation - grey matter was everywhere.

He also saw the Chief quietly freaking out nearby and pulled her away, putting his arms around her to break her
line of sight with the body. "Hey, hey, hey," he cooed into her ear as she whimpered softly; she was wound up
tight as a spring. "C'mon, Chief. I can give you some Ativan, to help you rest." She shook her head.

"No. No Ativan."

"Are you sure about that? It won't take me more than a sec to--"

"No... I don't want to hurt the baby." It took him a second to grasp the import of the huskily muttered words.

"The-- Chief, are you pregnant?" She nodded convulsively. "Wow. Congratula-- um... I mean...." Dave's
faltering attempts at a reaction were cut off, to his relief, by the sight of Dr Kovac's entrance. However, the
other man stayed just long enough to note Dr Lawrence's body on the floor, and then he ducked back
outside. Dave frowned, and went back to comforting his Chief.

A second later, Dr Kovac had returned, with Chuny and Yosh and a guy on a gurney who looked like he'd
seen better days. Ordinarily, Dave would've been chomping at the bit to get in on such an "exciting" trauma,
but-- oh, shit. Lydia was peering out the door of the exam room, and shooting him a look that promised
extreme vengeance if he didn't get back in there *now*. "R-Randi? Can you, uh...." He indicated the Chief
with a slight tilt of his head, and she rolled her eyes at him but hurried over.

"Dr Weaver. C'mon." She'd thrown aside her magazine and looked up when Dr Weaver shouted like
that, and her heart had gone straight into her throat when she saw Dr Lawrence standing there with a gun
in his hand. She'd liked the guy a *lot*, right from the start, and his illness had been as much of a shock to
her as it had been to the others here. Granted, Dr Kovac was easy on the eyes and a pretty good doctor,
despite all the jokes, but she'd still missed Dr Lawrence.

Watching Dr Weaver crumbling like that as she tried to talk him down... Randi had silently prayed that Dr
Weaver'd succeed. Nevertheless, she'd pushed the few people behind the desk with her down onto the
floor, just in case. They'd all been crouched down there when they heard the shot, the sound of a body
falling to the floor, and somebody screaming.

"Normally I'd suggest a good stiff shot," Malucci joked, "but--"

"Right, right. The baby," she muttered, putting a protective arm around Dr Weaver's shoulders to guide
her to the lounge.

"What? She told *you* first?" Randi made a face at him over her shoulder.

"Grow up, Malucci. *Shut* up, for that matter... and get back in that exam room, before Lydia starts
plotting your death."

* * *

Carl DeRaad was nearly done with paperwork when he got the page - he looked at the pager, and sighed...
the ER, again. He wondered what it was *this* time... a schizophrenic off meds? Maybe an over-eager
resident had made the page on a drunk... again. He shook his head, and headed down there.

He definitely wasn't expecting what he found, though - part of the lobby had been cordoned off by the
police who were swarming around, and he could see a dark splash against the wall. He frowned - surely
he wouldn't have been paged down for a suicide! - and then spotted Dr Kovac, who'd clearly been
waiting for him. "Dr Kovac... you paged me?"

"Yes, I did. Uh... there was a patient, a little over a year ago. Loren Johnson." DeRaad looked blank,
so he continued. "I had called you down for a consult on her husband, Paul Johnson--" DeRaad
remembered Paul Johnson, all right... he'd agreed that the guy was scum, and probably *was*
abusing his wife, but none of that was grounds for a psychiatric hold, unfortunately.

"Ohhh, yes. *Him*. Don't tell me you've got *another* hold on him, Dr Kovac!"

"Well... no. But his body is in the other room, waiting for Transpo down to the morgue - his wife
shot him, and then brought him in. I need you to talk to his wife; she's in Exam 3, with one of the
police." DeRaad groaned, and rubbed his forehead.

"That's just wonderful. Hey, what's the deal over there?" He pointed at the police, who appeared
to be hard at work.

"Apparently somebody - Dr Lawrence, who used to work here - took the gun away from Loren,
and then shot himself."

"*What*? Why didn't anybody see him?" Luka shook his head wearily.

"I don't know. There were a lot of people here at the time - some of them left when the gun went
off, and others left when the police arrived - and I assume he was hiding behind them."

"All right. I think it would be best if you took yourself off this case. With Loren Johnson, I mean. I'll
take over from here."

"What?!"

"You heard me. Make full notes about what happened here tonight, there'll probably be an M&M.
And-- um... where's Kerry?" Luka slumped against the wall.

"Apparently Dr Lawrence shot himself in front of her."

"What? Where were you?"

"I was outside. Two nurses and I were getting Mr Johnson out of his car, to bring him inside... to try to
resuscitate him." Luka's tone made it clear that he would have rather been doing just about anything other
than lifting a finger to save Paul Johnson's life. "I've already told the police all of that. Chuny and Yosh
have also given their statements."

"Oh, Christ. Like I said, make your notes. Go see to Kerry first, though."

"Yeah." DeRaad watched Dr Kovac quickly head for the lounge, and shook his head. He hadn't even
bothered to ask why the guy hadn't looked in on Kerry sooner... he'd seen the way Kovac's eyes kept
darting towards that door. A little while after Kovac entered the lounge, that cute desk clerk with the
unique sense of style came out. He'd never really talked to her, but he'd heard that she had a good head
on her shoulders; undoubtedly she'd been looking after Kerry. He shook his head, and went in the direction
of Exam 3, to talk to Loren Johnson.

* * *

Dave picked up the phone and hit "9" for an outside line... then seven more digits. To his disappointment,
he got the answering machine, but the sound of the familiar voice helped soothe his nerves a little. "Hey,
babe. Guess you have a shift today. Call me when you get home, okay? Um, I love you. Bye." He felt a
little weird, having said those three words, even just to a machine, but now that they'd crossed his lips...
he also felt kinda liberated, in a way.

POST-OP NOTES:

I *was* going to follow the course of events WRT Mark's return, but then I remembered two things: 1,
I remembered that I agreed with the folks who thought he should have been tested *before* he returned
to work, and 2, I remembered that I just didn't care enough to write the scenes *anyway*. :-) And of
course, the Firestorm In The ER!!! was just plain silly.

< Back to "Running With Scissors"                                     Forwards to "Sea Change" >