Three, Two, One...

Rocket Launcher, a slashfic in four parts

Rating: NC-17 for adult themes and graphic m/m sex, not to mention a car metaphor

Pairings: Robert Romano/Dave Malucci, John Carter/Peter Benton, Mark Green/Luka Kovac

Disclaimer: "E.R.," with its related characters and themes, belongs to Michael Crichton and others, not to me. I make no money from this venture.

Dedication: This slashfic is for Paul McCrane and Ewan McGregor.

Wherein the reader will find various ludicrous romantic notions, hideously inaccurate medical situations, and a grave disservice to Peter Benton, all at the fault of the author.

Notice: This slashfic follows the season finale "May Day," May 18, 2000, but I've skipped the part about Carter being on drugs. I'm sorry if I spelled the nurses' names wrong.

Livia

"Rocket Launcher" Part One: Three, Two, One...

"Luka."

He burrowed down tighter, pulling the blanket over his shoulder.

"Luka."

He was sleeping.

"Luka, you have to get up." A long, warm body pressed at his back. He moved closer against it. "Luka, if you're late, Kerry's going to be mad." That gave him pause. Kerry's wrath was formidable. However, he was not faint of heart; he could withstand it. "Romano's going to be mad." That was a new consideration altogether. Kerry was wicked, but she was human. Robert "The Rocket" Romano was a loathsome toad, in Romano's words, or a troll-sized asshole, in the words of others. A hand slid along his side. "Luka." Okay, he'd sleep for ten more-

He rolled out of bed and onto his feet in one fast motion. "Mark!"

Mark Green smiled up at him. "Have a good day." Mark pulled up the covers, rolled over, and went back to sleep. He glared, but it was hard to maintain a glare while smiling. He never should have told Mark about that ticklish spot.

He showered, shaved, brushed his teeth, and dressed. He kissed Mark's forehead and said, "I'll see you later."

"Go save some lives or something," Mark said, going back to sleep. Luka smiled and left Mark's apartment.

When he got to the hospital, Kerry had plenty of work for him to do. Carter, it seemed, hadn't shown up yet. "I don't care who he's sleeping with," Halee said, "that boy needs to show up on time."

"Who's he sleeping with?" Dave asked.

"Dr. Malucci!" Kerry called. "Your patients are waiting!"

"I'm on it, Chief," Dave responded quickly. "Who's Carter sleeping with?" he asked Luka.

"I thought he was sleeping with you," Luka said with a smile, and walked off before Dave could reply.

"Dr. Malucci!" Kerry shouted.

Luka was so busy with patients that he forgot the exchange, until he was at the front desk and Dave came up beside him getting a chart. "I'm not sleeping with Carter," Dave said.

"Oh. My mistake," Luka said. Yoshi glanced over at them, smiling.

"He's not my type," Dave added.

"What's not your type?" Luka asked. "Young, attractive, intelligent, or wealthy?"

"Yeah, I can see how that'd be a real turn-off," Randy said.

"I'm not gay," Dave said. "I like women."

"Mmm," Luka said, typing at the computer.

"Who's Carter seeing, anyway?" Dave asked.

"If you don't want to date him yourself, it shouldn't matter," Luka said, and left.

"Dr. Carter!" Kerry's voice cut through the noise of the E.R. "You are an hour and a half late! An hour and a half!"

"I know, I'm sorry-"

"What happened to you?" Kerry asked, and this time her voice was a lot softer, concerned. Dave hurried around to the E.R.'s main entrance. There was a cut across Carter's forehead and blood coming through his shirt sleeve.

"I was driving in, I got distracted, I hit a pole. I don't have a concussion."

"All right, come on, we'll get you stitched up," Kerry said. "You're sure you haven't-"

"I'm fine," Carter insisted. An ambulance came up in the bay. Dave said, "I've got this one, Chief," taking away Carter.

"Next time you call!" Kerry yelled after them.

Dave checked out Carter, made sure about the lack of concussion, and set to stitching. "What've you been up to lately?"

"Nothing new," Carter said.

"Un-hunh. Been seeing anybody?"

Carter gave him a suspicious look. "Yes," came the slow reply.

"Anybody I know?"

"Yes."

"Who is she?"

"She's a he."

He stopped stitching and looked into Carter's eyes. "You're shitting me."

"Could you keep going?"

"You're gay?"

"I'm bisexual."

"You're bisexual."

"It bothers you?"

"I'm just surprised."

"Un-hunh."

He started stitching again. "So you're seeing a guy."

"Yes. I'm dating a man."

"Who is it?"

"Why does it matter?"

"Because Halee said that it doesn't matter who you're sleeping with, you'd better get to work on time."

Carter laughed. "I'm going to have to talk to her."

"So who is it?"

"I'm not telling you."

"Everybody else knows."

"I'm not telling you."

"But it's someone who works here, right?"

"Dave, thank you for the stitches, but I think that I'm going to get to work now."

"Come on. Just tell me. I'm going to find out anyway."

"Not from me." Carter stood and headed for the door.

"You're really bi."

"Yes," Carter said, rounding on him, "yes, Dave, I'm really bi."

"So you have sex with guys?"

"How old are you?" Carter asked, and left.

Dave chewed over this idea the rest of the afternoon. Carter was bisexual. Carter was seeing someone. He was guessing that it was a superior, and a male. Yoshi was gay, but nurses were only superior to doctors in nurses' minds. Could it be Kovac? Mark Green was their boss. Mark was had an ex-wife and a kid, but on the other hand everybody knew about Mark and Doug Ross. Carter and Mark? It had to be.

He pounced on Carter by the lockers. "It's Mark Green."

"What's Mark Green?" Carter asked. Carter smiled. "You've got to be kidding. Dave, how out of the loop are you? Mark's with Kovac."

He laughed. Then he stared. "You aren't kidding. You aren't kidding! You've got to be kidding - - Green and Kovac?"

"Carol left, Mark's father died. They'd both lost everything."

"What about Elizabeth Corday?"

"Luka's taller, better-looking, and he has an accent, too."

"Is everyone around here gay?" Dave demanded.

"No, but I think we're all bi," Carter said. "What about you? Who are you seeing?"

"The word is 'whom.' Nice to see we're employing doctors without a firm grasp of the English language. Are we out of patients, Dr. Carter?"

"I'll go check," Carter said, and ducked out quickly. That left Dave alone with Dr. Romano, which pretty much was the last place he wanted to be. Elizabeth despised him, Kerry had a mind like a steel trap and a sharper tongue, actually pretty much no one liked him at all, but he could handle them. Dr. Romano made him wet his pants.

He hadn't expected to be the popular man on campus. He could deal with people thinking that he was arrogant and careless. Elizabeth telling him that everyone thought he was a bad doctor, well, that hurt worse than anything he'd ever felt. He didn't have a major rebellion problem with authority figures. He actually respected the senior staff here. Not being popular - - everybody loved Carter, for instance - - wasn't pleasant, but he could deal with it. He knew that everyone, every single person he'd come across, disliked Dr. Romano. So what Dr. Romano thought of him shouldn't be an issue. But if Dr. Romano had been the one to tell him what a lousy doctor he was, he would've burst into tears, sobbed his heart out, and left medicine.

Dr. Romano was just a short old bald white guy. But Dr. Romano was still the most intimidating person Dave had ever met. He couldn't figure out why.

"Dr. Dave," Dr. Romano said.

"Yes, sir."

"I got a call on behalf of a little girl, raped by her father."

He nodded. He remembered. He'd read Green Eggs and Ham to her while Cleo examined her. Those were the hardest cases. He'd never thought about having to face things like that, about having to handle it and forget it and go home again, and then come back the next day and wait for another. They should warn people about things like that before getting into med school. He might have picked a different profession.

"She wanted to thank you." Dr. Romano nodded shortly. "Good work." Dr. Romano left while Dave was still trying to find his voice.

She wanted to thank him.

Take that, Dr. Corday.

"Good work."

Fuck you, Dr. Corday.

As he was at the front desk getting ready to go, Carter said, "What is with you? You have been grinning like a fool for hours. You get laid or something?"

"Is that all you think about? Sex?" Dave asked.

Carter smacked his arm.

"Luka says you're young, attractive, intelligent, and wealthy," Dave said. "But you're older than I am, and we know I'm smarter, and as for attractive, there's no comparison."

"I'll give you credit for one out of three," Carter said.

"How rich are you?"

"Is this your big day for poking into my life?" Carter asked.

"Here," Randy said, handing Dave a sheet of paper. "Chicago's wealthiest families."

"You aren't number one," Dave told Carter.

"Sorry to disappoint you," Carter said.

"Let's see who is."

"It was the Eliots," Carter said. "But they've been dying off and I don't know where their money went."

"They don't have like the eldest son of the eldest son thing going?" Dave asked.

"I didn't memorize their family tree, Dave," Carter said.

Dave checked the list. "Says Eliot here, but this is from '96. Think they had a granddaughter my age?"

"With any luck, no," Carter said.

"Worth checking out," Randy advised Dave. "Because you know, as a doctor, you won't make enough to support yourself."

"To support myself in the style to which I am accustomed," Dave said. "I could use a trust fund chick. Too bad Carter's taken."

"Dave, go home," Carter said.

"Speaking of home," Dave said, "can I see the family spread?"

"I am not taking you to my family's home," Carter said. "Never. You do not set foot on my grandmother's property."

"I want to see how the other half lives," Dave said.

"Never." Carter went off to tend to patients.

"Randy, can you get me a phone book?"

Dave rang the bell. A well-dressed older woman opened the door. "Yes?"

"Are you Mrs. Carter?"

"I might be. Who are you?"

"I'm Dave Malucci. I work with your grandson John. Do you have a minute?"

"I just might. Come in, Dr. Dave."

Apparently his reputation preceded him.

Sitting in Carter's grandmother's kitchen, eating a small dinner and talking, he learned a lot of new things about Carter and Carter's family. He learned that Carter was coming over the next night with a new love interest; he wished he'd waited a day to come. He asked, running out of his own topics but wanting to keep her going, whether she knew the Eliots.

"Yes, of course. Greg and Emily were the nicest folks. My parents and they were excellent friends. I knew Grace Eliot for a long time, ever since finishing school."

"She's passed away?"

"Oh, yes, just two years ago, in June. Of course she wasn't Grace Eliot anymore, she'd been married for fifty years."

"She was an only child?"

"Yes. What's made you so curious about my old friends?"

"The Eliots are the wealthiest family in Chicago."

"The wealthiest in the state of Illinois, as far as I know."

"If Grace was an only child, and she's passed, where'd the money go?"

"To her son, I imagine. He was Grace and Richard's only child. What's his name, short fellow, runs your hospital. Romano, Robert Romano."

"Dr. Romano is the richest person in Illinois?"

"Unless Bill Gates moved to town, yes. You know him, I imagine. Dreadful little man. He used to have hair."

"Mrs. Carter, may I ask you one more question before I go?"

"I've answered everything so far; I might as well keep going."

"Do you know anything about the person who's coming to dinner tomorrow night?"

"John hasn't told you anything, has he? There must be a reason for that."

"You won't tell me a thing?"

"It's a doctor. A male doctor. That's all he's said so far. He told me to keep an open mind. That does not bode well."

Dave was stowing his bag in his locker when Carter stormed into the room. "You went to see my grandmother!"

"She's one of the hospital's main benefactors. I was just thanking her for all of her contributions."

"You sat in her kitchen and ate turkey salad!"

"It was very good."

"Why in hell did you go to my grandmother's house?"

"It's your house, too. You're living there."

"You know that?"

"She told me. Hey, how was dinner last night?"

"Whose life is this, mine or yours?"

"Learn to share. How was dinner last night? Did she like your male doctor?"

"It's hard to tell."

"He doesn't make a good first impression?"

"He makes an impression," Carter said. "Let's leave it at that."

"One of those people who grows on you?"

"Not always."

"Carter, do you even like this guy? Holy - - it's not Dr. Romano, is it?"

"Dr. Romano!" Carter had a minor laughing fit.

"Thank god. So who is he?"

Abby shoved in through the doors. "Five-car MVA, they're all coming here in two seconds, let's go!"

Dave grabbed his stethoscope and ran after Abby, right behind Carter. They got there just as the first fleet of gurneys was coming in. "Page Dr. Benton!" Kerry told Halee as Mark grabbed the first patient. Dave found himself trying to help Mark crack open a woman's chest. There was blood everywhere. Peter ran in, and soon that woman was on the elevator going to the O.R. Dave moved on to the next room and was sent to a third patient. There was blood everywhere, and the man's face was smashed in, and Kerry was trying to get the man a heartbeat, and Dr. Romano strode in and just...took over. Not by being pushy and shoving Kerry aside, but by assessing the situation in a heartbeat, seeing immediately what needed to be done, and getting everyone to do it. Dave hadn't seen Dr. Romano get involved in the E.R. much, not to this extent. Dr. Romano was a surgeon, not an E.R. doc. But here, now, Dave saw someone who fucking kicked ass. Mark was good. Peter was good. But Dr. Romano was a god.

The man was stable, and Dr. Romano left with the gurney on the elevator.

When Dave got to work the E.R. staff was abuzz. He asked Abby, "What's going on?"

"A pariel cartusion."

"A... Wait, isn't that... You're kidding. Here?"

"Dr. Romano's performing it. Dr. Benton and Dr. Corday are assisting him."

"When?"

"Don't even bother to ask if you can watch. There's going to be a camera in there, but no one's allowed to observe."

"Hey." He grabbed Carter, who was passing. "You heard about this?"

"About what?" Carter asked.

"The pariel cartusion," Abby said.

"The pariel cartusion," Dave repeated, just to say the words out loud.

"Sure," Carter said. "Today, two o'clock."

"And you don't care? Has Dr. Romano ever done one of these before?"

"First time for everything," Carter said.

"He's coming," Abby whispered.

"Shouldn't he be, I don't know, practicing or something?" Dave asked.

"Dr. Romano," Carter said.

"Lizzie and Peter and I are going to have a little party this afternoon at about two o'clock. I thought it might be nice to invite the young people. Might be inspirational for you. If the three of you aren't busy, maybe you'd like to come upstairs and watch the master at work." He grinned briefly and left them.

"We can go?" Abby asked.

"We can watch?" Dave asked. "Watch a pariel cartusion live and in person?"

"What if Dr. Weaver doesn't let us go?" Abby asked.

"She's not our evil stepmother, Cindy," Dave said. "She'll let us go."

"Young people. What am I, fourteen?" Carter asked.

"Hey, just don't try growing that beard again to prove yourself," Dave said. "Some women can pull it off better than you."

They begged Kerry and got permission to be in the O.R. at two. They ran up together and scrubbed in, then stood out of the way. The patient was ready, and the cameras were being placed. The three of them were quiet as Peter and Elizabeth entered.

Dr. Romano walked in and was dressed. "Everybody ready? We're going to walk through it slow and steady, people. You do what I tell you when I tell you. My hospital, my O.R., my patient. We have guests and cameras, so let's keep it civilized. Maestro?" A nurse pressed a button on a small stereo in the corner, and Mozart's "Eine Kleine Nachtmusik" began. "Robert Romano, May 19th, 2000, assisted by Drs. Elizabeth Corday and Peter Benton. Patient's name, Christopher Ramsey..."

Dave listened in fascination and watched as best he could during the three hours and twenty-six minutes of the procedure. Dr. Romano introduced each step. Sometimes all but Mozart was silent due to fierce concentration, but at other times there was conversation. Dr. Romano seemed to know the nurses well, and talked with them. They didn't seem to mind Dr. Romano's...style. Even Peter and Elizabeth managed to converse with Dr. Romano, and they sounded pleasant, even amused at times. The procedure went extremely well, without any errors or unaccountable problems. Dr. Romano said, "Normally I'd walk out now and let someone else finish, but since I'm being taped, I'll do it myself to discount any rumors about my ego being taller than I am."

Dave heard Carter laugh behind him.

"Your former student betrays you, Peter," Dr. Romano said. "Don't worry, I know you didn't mean it."

"Of course not, Dr. Romano," Peter said.

"Good. Could I get someone to get rid of Wolfgang, please?"

Mozart turned into Trent Reznor. Dave's jaw dropped.

"That's better. Lizzie, you're free to go. I'll let them interview you first, since you're likely to make us look the best."

"Thank you, Robert." Elizabeth left the O.R.

"I don't know why you ever stopped dating her, Peter," Dr. Romano said. "And that Dr. Finch," he whistled. "But your new love interest isn't bad either."

"I didn't realize you were aware of my personal affairs," Peter said.

"It's my business to know when my employees are dating each other," Dr. Romano said. "It helps me to figure out which sexual harassment cases are real. I'll confess that you surprised me this time, Peter. I'll have to remember to keep a more open mind in the future. But I approve. I hope that it works out this time."

"Thank you," Peter said.

"Don't worry, I'm sincere for once."

"That's why we're all so confused," the head nurse said dryly.

"While I'm finishing up here," Dr. Romano said, "if you swing the camera over there you'll see our personal audience. This is our young crop from the E.R. staff here at Country General. Peter's former student second-year resident Dr. Carter, our first-year resident Dr. Dave, and his student Abby. They've come to witness the miracles that I have wrought with my own two hands. Oh darn it, there goes my ego again. And now we've finished the very first pariel cartusion in these United States of America outside of California. Mr. Ramsey, we thank you."

Dave, Carter, and Abby ran down to the E.R. and told everyone how the surgery had gone. Then they actually saw some patients. Dave got a chance and pulled Carter into the lounge under the pretense of getting coffee. "You must have bigger balls than I thought."

"Why is that?" Carter asked.

"Peter Benton. It's Peter Benton - - you're sleeping with Peter Benton."

"Yes I am."

"He's gay? Sorry - - he's bisexual?"

"Yes."

"And you're having sex with him."

"Yes."

"Since when?"

"Since I almost died."

"One of those being stabbed near-death experiences where you realize how precious life is and how important every moment is and how you can't waste another second of it so you declare your love and have passionate sex?"

"Something like that. I guess when I almost died he realized he actually cared about me after all."

"A real heart on his sleeve kind of guy he is not."

"Tell me about it."

"So...you're actually having sex?"

"Why does my love life fascinate you?"

"You're the only guy I know - - besides the entire rest of the staff, apparently - - who's actually screwing other guys. I'm just curious."

"You want to screw other guys?"

"You offering?"

"No."

"So who else around here is gay? Or bi? Yosh, you, Benton, Green, and Kovac."

"You're missing one."

"That Doug Ross guy."

"Someone who's here now. Someone you know."

"Frank the temp desk receptionist."

"No."

"The psych head guy."

"No."

"Who?"

"Think short, bald, and loud."

Dave's jaw dropped.

"There you go."

"No. No. No no no no - - there's no way. There is no way."

"Yes."

"How do you know?"

"My grandmother told me. I didn't tell anybody else, not even Peter-"

"You get to call him Peter now?"

"Keep it to yourself."

"He isn't. Your grandmother's wrong."

"My grandmother?"

"So is he gay or bi?"

"I think he's bisexual."

"So he has a boyfriend and everything?"

"You think someone would actually date him? Hey, if you want the Eliot trust fund chick, he's it."

"So your grandmother told me. I think I'll pass."

"Who doesn't want to grow up to marry a rich doctor?" Carter asked.

"Hey, you think I could call him Peter, too?"

"Are you brave enough to try it and see?"

"Hey, I have balls, man, but not that big."

"Sure you want to advertise that?"

Dave stopped by the grocery store on the way home. Lucky Charms, macaroni and cheese in a box, oranges, milk. The checkout clerk said, "That's not going to make a very balanced meal."

"Of course is it. Grains, proteins, vitamin C - - rich in fiber and calcium."

"You wouldn't make a very convincing...nutritionist? Dietician?"

He flashed his charming smile. "I'm a doctor."

"Right."

"Really. Dr. Dave. Country General E.R."

"You're a doctor?"

"I am."

"You single?"

"I am."

She smiled. "You free tonight, Dr. Dave?"

Dave whistled as he closed his locker. Sex sex sex. He had gotten laid. It had been way too long.

He strolled down the hallway. Nothing could ruin his beautiful post-sex day. He'd have to see her again.

"Dr. Dave, may I ask you, what is that on your arm?"

He swallowed. Arm. Right, arm. Right arm? He looked. "Where?"

"Your tattoo."

Tattoo? Tattoo. Right. "It's nothing. I got it when I graduated high school."

"Is there some special significance to it?"

"Actually, no. I don't even know what it means."

Dr. Romano just looked at him and left. Well, now he was humiliated. He might as well leave the building now, go home, crawl into bed, and die. "Why, yes, hello, Dr. Romano, I'm an imbecile. Let me prove it!" Idiot idiot idiot. He leaned his forehead against the wall and closed his eyes.

"What happened?" Carter's voice asked behind him.

"Idiot," he told the wall.

"Dave?"

He opened his eyes. "I'm not very bright, am I?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"You. What happened?"

"Would you ever be so stupid as to get a tattoo, which is pretty permanent, of something if you had no idea what it was?"

"No."

"I didn't think so."

"You don't know what it means?"

"My girlfriend thought it looked cool."

"Ah."

"I was eighteen."

"Ah."

"I was stupid."

"A man trying to please or impress a pretty teenaged girl will do anything, no matter how stupid," Carter said. "It's something we all have to face within ourselves. Why did this come up?"

"Dr. Romano asked me about my tattoo."

"Dave, Dr. Romano thinks that everyone is an idiot. Don't worry about it."

He was going to make a list. First there was Sherry, the checkout girl. Then there was Sue from the L. Then there was Rhonda from the-

"Excuse me."

"Yeah? Hey, this isn't a veterinary clinic."

"I found it on the street. The collar has this address."

"This is a hospital."

"Maybe you got a new mascot. I got to go. It's your dog now."

"Hey! Hey!" The guy was walking off, and Dave was alone with the dog. He walked around the counter. "Dog, I don't know who you belong to, but you aren't staying here." It didn't look very good. He'd had dogs, actually he'd always liked dogs, but never one this size, and never one who looked, well, sort of like someone who'd come in here. He crouched down. "You okay? You feeling okay?" He checked the tag. Sure enough, it had County General's address on it. "Hey, Chief!" he called, seeing Kerry down the hallway. "You want a new pet?"

"What the - - Randy, Randy! Page Dr. Romano."

"He's in surgery," Peter Benton said. "Is that Gretel?"

"Who's Gretel?" Dave asked. "The dog?"

"There's a dog here?" Mark asked.

"It's Robert's," Kerry said.

"This is Dr. Romano's dog," Dave said, staring at Kerry.

"It's bigger than he is," Randy said, peering over the counter. "And she doesn't look so good."

"Dave, will you check her out, please?" Kerry asked.

"I didn't exactly go to vet school," Dave said. "You want me to get her a bed and everything?"

"If you could," she said with a sweet smile.

"I don't believe this." He stood. "Come on, girl, let's give you a check-up."

His exam proved that, yes, she was a girl. She'd been worn ragged and seemed on the brink of exhaustion. He sat on the edge of the bed and petted her while she slept. She was a pampered dog, and very easy-going. Dr. Romano must spoil her rotten.

The curtain was shoved aside and Dr. Romano was there. "What happened to Gretel?"

Dave was on his feet. "Some guy brought her in. Said he found her. She's okay, just tired."

"Where's the man?"

"He split. No name."

"Did he say where he found her?"

"No."

Dr. Romano sat on the side of the bed and stroked Gretel, scratched her. "Poor girl."

"I'll leave you two alone." He left the bedside and went to find some more patients, humans this time. After he checked out a few people, he ran across Kerry, who said, "How's Gretel?"

"Fine. Just worn out, probably from running off."

"Gretel wouldn't run off."

Dave turned.

"Dogs run off sometimes, Robert," Kerry said.

"Not Gretel. She knows better."

"What are you saying, she was kidnapped and dropped off somewhere?" Dave asked.

There was a loud dog's bark, then a woman's shriek, and suddenly a very large brown dog was among them. Gretel jumped right up on Dr. Romano, on her hind legs, her forepaws resting on Dr. Romano's shoulders. First of all, they were pretty close to the same size, and he found himself wondering which weighed more. Second of all, how did Dr. Romano bear all of that weight without even moving back one step? Gretel licked Dr. Romano's face.

"Woke up, did you?" Dr. Romano asked. He patted her left side and she moved down obediently. Apparently this was not a first time occurrence. "Gretel, welcome to the E.R. Thank Dr. Dave for taking good care of you."

Gretel sat down in front of Dave and wagged her tail, looking up at him. He knelt down and said, "You were the best patient I had all day." He scratched her.

"Come on, Gretel, time to go home," Dr. Romano said. "Kerry, you know where to send the bill. Dr. Dave, I thank you for your service." Dave rose and Gretel lumbered behind Dr. Romano out the door.

Carter felt a large, careful hand at his back, lending support. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine. I'm fine," Carter said.

"Don't lie to me, Carter."

"Really, I'm fine. May I go see my patients now?"

"Dr. Dave will check on your patients for you. You're going to take a few minutes to sit down and rest."

"They're my patients."

"He can use the experience."

"I won't argue with that," Carter said, "but they're my patients and this is my job."

"Carter, I think that I'm going to agree with Peter," Kerry said. Where'd she come from? "You can relax for a few minutes. Dave and I will - - where is Dave?"

"Right here, Chief." Dave hustled into the E.R.

"Where have you been?" Kerry asked.

"Consult."

"For which patient?"

"Me."

"Is something wrong?"

"Nope. Just a little something I had to take care of. Carter, can I talk to you?"

"You can talk with Carter after you see some patients." Kerry handed him two charts. "The next time you want to run off for a 'consult,' check in with me first."

"Sure thing, Chief. Hey, Peter, how you doing?" Dave hurried off again.

Carter smiled and shook his head. "Now that boy has-" he took a quick look at Kerry "-guts."

When Dave had a spare moment later that shift, he pulled aside Carter. "Listen, I need a favor."

"What favor?"

"Money."

"No."

"I'll pay you back."

"No."

"Come on. It's not much."

"If it's not much, then you can save up and get it yourself."

"You're the suckiest friend."

"We're friends?"

"Go to hell."

"Dave, come on. What's the money for?"

"Plastic surgery."

"For what?"

"Oh, I'm so gorgeous you wouldn't change a thing?"

"Absolutely."

"You're so sweet. It's to get rid of the tattoo."

"What?"

"Quick and easy, take it right off. But laser surgery costs money, and I ain't got none."

"Why are you getting rid of the tattoo?"

"It's stupid."

"It's been stupid since you got it. Why are you getting rid of it now?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"Do you top or bottom?"

"I am never speaking to you again. I mean never. That's it."

"If you don't tell me I'll ask Peter!" Dave called after him.

Dave closed his eyes and leaned back. This was nice. It was hard to find a girl who did this anymore. He flipped through images in his head. Not Elizabeth, he'd lose his hard-on. Not Kerry, that was just wrong. Abby, no thanks. Cleo, yeah, she was pretty... Okay... Mmm... Did Carter do this with Peter? What about Mark and Luka? Okay, he was not going to sit here and think about Mark Green; that was as bad as thinking about Kerry. Luka, to be honest, was good-looking. Peter was good-looking too, but Dave was not going to sit here and think about Peter. Carter, Carter was good-looking. Was Luka more attractive? Probably. Wait, he was supposed to be thinking about Cleo Oh god, here it came...

"What?"

"What?" he asked, sitting up straighter on the sofa.

"Who's Robert?"

"What?"

"You just said 'Robert.' You ass!" She grabbed her blouse and heels and purse and ran out.

"I didn't," he told his empty apartment. "I didn't!"

"Dr. Dave."

"Dr. Romano." He was in his most professional attitude today. He'd been working on it all week. Abby, Carter, Kovac, and Cleo had noticed. Even Kerry seemed pleased. But here was the test; Dr. Romano was gracing the E.R.

"Kill anyone today?"

"No sir."

"Good. Are you busy next week?"

"I'll be working, sir."

"When you aren't working."

"No, sir."

"Good. I'll be out of town. I'd like you to do something for me. I need someone to take care of Gretel for me, and she liked you. Also, if you fuck up, I can fire you. I assume you live in one of those cheap apartments that don't allow pets?"

"Yes sir."

"You can stay at my place. I'll need you there Sunday through Sunday. You invite anyone else over, anyone at all, I will hear about it and I won't like it. When your shift's over, come up to my office." Dr. Romano walked off down the hallway.

Dave had not let his jaw drop. He was a professional now. A calm, level-headed, thorough-thinking professional. He was not going to be fazed, at all, that he was to spend next week living in Dr. Romano's home.

Dr. Romano's home turned out to be an elaborate townhouse. Actually, this wasn't Dr. Romano's only home, but it was the place where Dr. Romano stayed most of the time. Three stories, large high-ceilinged rooms, and classy sophistication to put Carter's grandmother to shame. The sitting room was high Victorian; the kitchen was sleek and modern.

"Rebecca is my housekeeper," Dr. Romano said. "She lives here. She hates me. I can't leave Gretel alone with her all week." Gretel bounded into the kitchen and jumped onto Dr. Romano. "How are you today?" Dr. Romano asked Gretel, who licked his face. "Did you behave yourself?" He patted her left side; she dropped to all fours again. "This is Dr. Dave. Do you remember him? He'll be staying with you next week."

A woman came into the kitchen through the sitting room entrance, as Gretel had. "Hello."

"This is Rebecca," Dr. Romano said. "Rebecca, Dr. Dave. He'll be here in my absence."

"Hello, Dr. Dave." She was young and pretty. She did not look like a housekeeper.

"Hi," Dave said.

"This is where I live. Rebecca will cook, clean, and do laundry for you. You'll sleep on the second floor. All you have to do is be here, keep Gretel company, and give Rebecca something to do. No guests, no roller-blading on the hardwood floors, no setting fires, no drinking, no drugs, no smoking, no murder and mayhem. Eight dollars an hour at twenty-four hours a day at seven days a week is," Dr. Romano paused for a heartbeat, "one thousand three hundred forty-four."

"You don't pay me that much," Rebecca said. "And Sunday to Sunday is eight days."

"Thank you, one thousand five hundred thirty-six," Dr. Romano said. "And Rebecca, I'd pay you more if you were worth more."

Wow. That was one of the harshest things Dave had heard someone say to another person. Rebecca didn't even blink; she just gave a little smile, a real smile, and said, "Then I'd better get back to work. Nice to meet you, Dr. Dave. Doctor of what?"

"I'm a resident in the E.R.," Dave said.

"Good. I like men who are good in an emergency." She left the kitchen.

"You aren't really going to pay me that much, are you?" Dave asked. "Or is there some hideous part of this that you haven't explained?"

"I'll wait until I return to pay you, in case something goes wrong," Dr. Romano said. "Yes or no?"

"Yes. Please."

"Good. When you get here Sunday Rebecca will take care of you. She runs everything; she'll answer any questions."

"Thank you, Dr. Romano. I'll take good care of Gretel."

"You'd better."

Dave knocked on the front door, hitching his bag higher on his shoulder. Rebecca, about twenty-five and blonde, opened the door. "Dr. Dave. Come on in."

She took him upstairs to the second floor. Indicating a closed door, she said, "Dr. Romano's suite. Keep out. You can stay in here." She opened another door. "Bedroom, bathroom, sitting room. It's up to you how clean you leave it, but I'll be in here every day to clean it to my own standards. I'll cook for you, according to your schedule. If you're one of those people who considers coffee to be breakfast, you'll learn fast that you don't leave this house without eating what I consider to be breakfast. When you get home, I'll have a meal waiting for you. Tell me your hours and I'll take good care of you, like it or not. I also do laundry, whatever you leave on the floor or in the hamper. I feed and groom and walk Gretel; you just need to play with her as you see fit. Dr. Romano likes to take her to the park on Collins and Chamberlain. You'll find a house key on the dresser. Come downstairs and I'll show you the security system."

"So basically this is your house and I'll do as you say when you say it, and if I behave all week you won't hate me."

"Basically."

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

"I don't trust good-looking guys and I don't date doctors. Two strikes and you're out."

"No exceptions?"

She tilted her head. "You passed the test. Most guys correct me on my baseball rules when I say that."

"Would it help if I assure you that I'm not that good-looking and I'm a bad doctor?"

"Oddly enough, no. I don't believe you anyway, on either count."

"I really like you."

Dave decided that Dr. Romano led a great life. Beautiful home, every need but one fulfilled by a beautiful woman, and the most easy-going and well-trained dog that Dave had ever met. Gretel didn't jump on anyone besides Dr. Romano, didn't get up on beds, didn't beg at the table even though Dr. Romano tended to feed her from there, was cheerful constantly, tried to make friends with cats and squirrels and birds in the park, and was conscientious about bathroom habits. Gretel seemed very fond of Dave, who appreciated and returned the sentiment.

This time when he came, he heard himself say it. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, head in his hands.

Rebecca smoothed his hair. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I swear, I didn't mean it. I don't know why I said it."

"Dare I guess which Robert you meant?"

"Please don't."

"It's okay, Dave."

"I'm straight. I swear to you, I'm straight."

"All right."

"I'm sorry." He met her eyes, finally.

"It's all right. Would you mind if we ended the sexually intimate part of our friendship here and now?"

"God, I've fucked up."

"I still like you very much. But maybe we should just be friends."

"I could use a friend."

"Good. So could I."

"I'm sorry."

"I can see that. I don't think that you should be."

"Because yelling out your male boss's name is always a turn-on for you?"

"Because what comes out of our mouths doesn't always relate to what we're thinking. And because sometimes it does, more than we know."

"I'm straight."

"So am I. Congratulations."

When he came home from work Saturday, Gretel jumped up on him. He staggered back and thought, for a moment, that they'd both fall. "Hey, girl," he said, and she licked his face. "Don't start getting too attached, now. Dr. Romano's coming home tomorrow, and I'll be out of here."

"I think she likes you," Rebecca said, coming from the kitchen.

"I think I probably smell like the hospital, and so does Dr. Romano, and she misses him so she's accepting a replacement."

"As if anyone could ever replace Dr. Romano. Some people are one-of-a-kind, and in his case, we're all grateful for it."

"Funny." He experimentally patted Gretel's left side, and she moved down again. He rolled his shoulders; they still worked.

"I'm going to be naughty. Come with me."

"Don't need to ask me twice." He followed her upstairs.

"Now, I can't show you Dr. Romano's office, but I can give you a little peek in here." She twisted the knob to Dr. Romano's suite and pushed open the door.

"Holy mother of...pearl," Dave said. He was sexist, and he tended to curb his swearing around women. He gazed around, stepping forward into the room. The main chamber was the bedroom, with an elaborate, high, four-poster bed. There was a sitting room to one side, and then the bathroom, which of course had a hot tub and marble.

Dave had seen porn. He knew what bedposts were for.

He skimmed his fingers along the marble bathroom countertop. "Nice."

"Ridiculous is what it is. He had me live in here when I first took the job. He didn't want the room to go to waste, and he didn't want it. I was in here for one entire year, and then I moved down into the basement. I'm much happier down there. He had Gretel in here for a few months, and then he took it himself."

"And I thought that the room I'm staying in was posh. This is luxury."

"This is excess run amok."

"I like it."

"You would." She smiled. "Come on, out, out, Dr. Romano wouldn't want us poking around in here."

"You mean I can't use the hot tub?"

"Haven't you ever seen those movies where the guy's using the hot tub and the boss comes home early and-"

"This is a popular movie theme?"

"St. Elmo's Fire."

"I should live my life according to Rob Lowe's mistakes?"

She laughed. "Are you this impossible at work?"

"At work they don't laugh when I joke."

"Don't they?"

"Am I in the wrong career?"

"Does it fit you?"

"I don't know if I fit it."

"According to whose standards? The overworked overstressed non-laughers? Or the people whose lives you save?"

"Don't get all deep on me, here. And stop responding with questions."

"Why?"

After work Sunday, Dave went back to the townhouse to get his things and say good-bye. He spent a few minutes in the sitting room scratching Gretel on his way upstairs to pack. Just as he was about to go up, the front door opened. Gretel released a resounding bark into his left ear and bolted. He looked up and saw Dr. Romano being licked to death. He went over and closed the door.

"Dr. Romano," Rebecca said. "Welcome home."

"How's my girl?" Dr. Romano asked Gretel.

"Happy to see you is my guess, but it's up for interpretation," Rebecca said.

"I don't suppose you have any food around here," Dr. Romano said.

"I was just making dinner for Dave," Rebecca said. "There's plenty for two."

"Good." Dr. Romano patted Gretel and she got down.

"I was just leaving," Dave said, finding his voice.

"After you eat," Rebecca insisted with a smile.

"Figure it out between you," Dr. Romano said, heading up the staircase with Gretel and his suitcase.

"You're staying," Rebecca said quietly.

"Why?" Dave asked more quietly.

"To eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"I made you a farewell dinner and you're going to eat it."

He ended up eating it. He and Dr. Romano sat at the kitchen table together for dinner. He'd begged and teased Rebecca all week about macaroni and cheese, and finally she'd made him some. He'd never guessed that Dr. Romano ate macaroni and cheese. Of course, he'd gone through the man's CD collection and found an ungodly number of CD's he never expected, so there were surprises everywhere.

Rebecca asked about the convention, and Dr. Romano told her, and Dave managed to ask some questions, and then his professional curiosity overrode his inhibitions and he ended up having a long and detailed conversation with Dr. Romano. He'd never had an instructor this interesting. By the time they were finished, the table was cleared and Rebecca had long since left the room.

She came back, though, and interrupted to say, "Dave, why don't you stay here tonight? I'm sure Dr. Romano won't mind, and you have to get up early for your shift tomorrow."

"I'll just pack and head home," he said.

"I insist," she said with a polite smile that said "get your butt upstairs, Malucci."

"Go ahead," Dr. Romano said dismissively. "No one else wants the bed."

"Gretel."

"That's what I said," Rebecca said lightly, flipping a pancake.

"Gretel."

"Drink your milk while it's cold."

"My suitcase is missing and you think that Gretel took it."

"Why not?"

"Why not?" he repeated. "Rebecca, Gretel is a dog."

"Don't let Dr. Romano hear you say that."

"Did you take my suitcase?"

"Syrup?" she asked, turning to him with a bright smile.

His new suitcase got a gash in it mysteriously when his back was turned. Gretel wanted him to stay. His clothes were all dirty. He ended up staying another week, and then another. He learned things, like that Rebecca anticipated and met Dr. Romano's every need. She was Dr. Romano's mother, sister, cook, maid, secretary, baby-sitter, and best friend - - but not lover; they never touched and never had. He learned that Dr. Romano slept naked (not from personal viewing, but because Rebecca told him). He learned (from personal viewing) that Dr. Romano wore a heavy gold and scarlet robe in the mornings for breakfast, and that it was ridiculously frustrating in that it hinted at a lot but revealed nothing. He learned that Dr. Romano hadn't been on a date at least since hiring Rebecca, which amounted to three years. He learned that Dr. Romano only drank coffee while at work, and didn't watch TV, and read medical journals the way hungry people ate. When Dr. Romano lost a patient, Rebecca and Gretel seemed to sense it and tread softly.

Dr. Romano didn't seem at all jealous of Dave's friendship with Rebecca or of Dave's friendship with Gretel, who now greeted both men by jumping on them.

When Dave and Dr. Romano were both present at the same time, and Dr. Romano wasn't busy with some administrative task, they talked shop. Dave found himself learning and challenged and, when he kept up his end of the dialogue, proud. Of course Dr. Romano was an unpleasant troll, no one would deny it (least of all Dr. Romano), but Dave was fascinated by the man's intellect and idiosyncrasies. For an utter bastard, Dr. Romano was pretty interesting.

He hadn't been asked to leave. Rebecca had stopped making excuses. So he stayed, and waited for the other shoe to drop.

Gretel, at least, was having a grand time. Rebecca seemed to be enjoying herself as well. Dr. Romano didn't seem to notice that life hadn't been like this before the convention. Dave didn't know what Dr. Romano was thinking, or Gretel for that matter, but he knew what Rebecca was thinking. She was wrong. She had to be wrong, because she wasn't right.

"Abby."

"Yes, Dr. Green."

"What's happened to Malucci?"

"I don't know, sir," Abby said. "But I'd like to thank whoever's responsible."

"He's acting like a grown-up," Cleo said.

"He's acting like a doctor," Kerry said. "Let's not discourage him."

"Malucci? A doctor?" Randy asked.

"He actually says 'thank you,'" Yoshi said.

"Is it because of what Dr. Corday said to him?" Abby asked.

"What did she say?" Cleo asked.

"She told him that no one thinks that he's much of a doctor," Abby said.

"Dr. Carter might know what happened," Randy said.

"He thinks that Dave's trying to impress the rest of us," Mark said.

"We'll have to thank Elizabeth," Kerry said.

"According to Carter," Mark said, "we should be thanking Romano."

"Dr. Romano?" Cleo asked.

"I've never known Robert to be a positive influence on a resident," Kerry said. "He tends to have the opposite effect."

"Do you have a good suit?"

"I can scrounge up one," Dave said, and shoved his fork through the rigatoni.

"I've been invited to a dinner. A bunch of doctors. The locals with their wives, the out-of-towners with their mistresses. Gretel can't come and Rebecca doesn't like to be seen in public with me - - I can't imagine why. I'd take Lizzie or Peter but they've been pissing me off all week. It's Friday at eight."

"I get off at six."

"Good."

"So what's the occasion?"

"It's an excuse to network. You can tell everyone how brilliant my pariel cartusion was, and how excited you are about coming into the field of emergency medicine. There are always a few eager young pups at these dinners. Be respectful to the doctors. Be deferential as hell to the women doctors. Flirt with the wives, hands off the mistresses."

It was not a date. It would be entirely inappropriate to think of it as anything but what it was. What was it? Was he Dr. Romano's protegee? It would seem so. If Elizabeth and Peter were out of favor - - not that he could compare the surgical team with a resident. Elizabeth was Dr. Romano's second in command, anyway. And Dr. Romano seemed to like Peter, actually. But here he was, all dressed up for dinner with Dr. Romano.

They walked up the steps of the Grand Victoria Hotel. At the front doors, someone called out, "Robert!"

Dr. Romano stopped and turned. "John. Cecily, how nice to see you."

"Robert," the woman said.

"Mrs. Grantly, Dr. Grantly, may I present Dave Malucci. Dr. Dave is a first-year resident in County General's E.R."

"Emergency medicine," Cecily said. "I don't see how you stand it."

"I work up a sweat, but I like the pressure and excitement," Dave told her. "What's your specialty, Dr. Grantly? You wouldn't happen to be the Dr. Grantly from Riverdale, would you?"

"I would," Grantly said. "Where did you ever hear of me?"

"I read your study on the latest developments in radial keratotomy."

"Don't get him started," Cecily said. "Good lord, Randall's brought Cynthia. Dr. Dave, why don't you take me inside?"

"I'd be happy to," Dave said. "Dr. Grantly, Dr. Romano." Cecily took his arm and they went into the hotel.

"So Dr. Dave, you work for Robert?"

"Yes ma'am."

"You poor dear. Have you ever been to one of these functions?"

"No ma'am. This is my first time."

"Well, if you're a virgin about this, I'm a whore. John drags me to these several times a year. He even takes me to the ones out of town. The other wives loathe me. Can't say that I blame them. Here's Paul Stanley from Berkeley and his girlfriend Monica. Paul," she said, raising her voice as they neared the ballroom entryway.

The couple turned. "Cecily," Paul said, and kissed her cheek. "Cecily, where is your husband?" Paul teased, looking at Dave.

"I left him as soon as I got here and met this young man. Dr. Dave is one of Robert Romano's residents."

"I'd like to see Robert. I heard about his pariel cartusion."

"Careful, Paul. The envy's seeping through your pores," Cecily cautioned.

"It went very well," Dave said. "Dr. Romano allowed a few of us into the O.R. to watch the procedure."

"God, that must have been exciting," Paul said.

Dave found himself at a table with Cecily, Paul, and Monica. He and Paul and Cecily talked quickly and easily while Monica looked around the room. Talking with Dr. Romano and reading Dr. Romano's journals had well-prepared him for this conversation. Not only was he up on the current terms and latest issues, but he was used to keeping up with people who had fast minds, faster tongues, and vast stores of knowledge and experience. For the first time, he saw the appeal of Mrs. Robinson, May-December romances. It was easy to flirt with Cecily, not because she was vastly attractive but because she was engaging and quick.

Dr. Romano and Dr. Grantly joined them, then Dr. Howarth and Julia. Dave was between Cecily on his left and Paul with Monica on his right. To Cecily's left were Dr. Grantly, Dr. Romano, Dr. Howarth, and Julia. Julia and Monica could entertain each other with whatever bored mistresses talked about while on vacation. The rest of them, the four older doctors and Dave and Cecily, continued their own general conversation while they ate their chicken dinners. Then, just as the dinner was ending and the speeches were about to start, a beeper went off. Everyone at the table automatically checked his pockets.

"It's me," Dave said. "It is I," he corrected himself, grinning.

"You don't have to leave us, do you?" Cecily asked.

"Actually, I do," Dave said. "I can't believe these things actually happen. I'm really sorry. It was a pleasure, an honor, to meet you, all of you. Mrs. Grantly, will you excuse me?"

"You run along and save people," she encouraged him. "I'm sure I'll be hearing of you later."

"Dr. Romano," he said, rising, "I'm sorry. Thank you for inviting me."

"Whatever's happening, it's at my hospital," Dr. Romano said. "I might as well go, too. Cecily, you'll forgive me?"

"This time," she promised.

"John, Paul, George." He paused. Cecily laughed. Dave bit back a smile. Dr. Romano shook his head and left, Dave following. In the lobby, Dave used Dr. Romano's cellular phone to call the E.R. Randy told him that there had been a shooting on the L and that they were getting the worst of it. Dr. Romano's beeper went off just then.

At the hospital, they went right to work. Kerry was trying to send patients to Mercy, but Mercy wasn't taking any more. They lost one patient and sent two to the O.R., then two more.

Dr. Romano came down to the E.R. from the O.R. Kerry said, "Robert, I'm sorry to have called you away from the dinner. How was it?"

"The chicken was dry, but the speeches would have been drier. I should be thanking you for the rescue. May I go now?"

"Thank you, Robert." Something caught her eye. "Dr. Malucci, what are you doing here?"

"You paged me, Chief."

"You are allowed to go home, Dave."

Dr. Romano tilted his head toward the door and started to leave.

"Sure thing, Chief," Dave said, shedding his gloves. "Wouldn't want to be saving people's lives on my time off or anything. See you tomorrow."

"Undoubtedly," she said. "Dave."

"Yeah?"

"Nice work."

He smiled. "Thanks, Chief. You're not so bad yourself."

When Dave stepped outside, he caught up easily with Dr. Romano. "So you're running a taxi service tonight?"

"Unless you'd like to take the L and the bus."

"I'm less likely to be shot up in your car. I think."

"Don't count on it."

"So how was the dinner? From your end of it?"

"If we'd stayed, we could have gotten to see many more people. But you made a good impression."

"Running out like Batman and Robin didn't make us look stupid?"

"It got us noticed."

"That's a good thing," Dave said. "So John, Paul, and George, they're good people to know?"

"They're very good people to know," Dr. Romano said. "And getting Cecily on your side, that was an excellent move. If that woman doesn't like you, she'll let other people know about it."

"Who normally goes with you to those things?"

"Usually I go by myself. Sometimes I invite someone like Lizzie."

"You don't have a Julia or Monica?"

"A mistress? They're more trouble than they're worth."

"So you've had one."

"I have had all shapes and sizes of romantic relationships, Dr. Dave, and I have not found one that suits me. Most people are not worth the inconvenience."

"Besides, you have Rebecca."

"I thought you wanted her."

"Rebecca? No. We're just friends."

"You haven't been shagging my housekeeper?"

"No! Once. Sort of."

"Bad sex?"

"I said somebody else's name at a critical moment."

"Bad move, Dr. Dave."

"No kidding. So now we're just friends."

The next evening, Dave was on the sitting room floor with Gretel, lying on the plush carpet, scratching behind her ears and reading one of Dr. Romano's journals. Dr. Romano came out of the study and said, "Are you working tomorrow night?"

"Nope," he said, turning the page.

"Cecily's invited us out to dinner. Seven o'clock."

"Really?"

"Yes or no?"

"Yes."

Dr. Romano nodded and disappeared into the study again.

Dinner went really well. Dave was comfortable and confident. Cecily casually made him feel entirely at ease. He made sure to keep up his end of the conversation without speaking too much. Cecily and Paul shared what they'd missed at the other night's dinner, and they told about the L shooting.

After dinner, they went back to the townhouse. Cecily loved Gretel, and Rebecca served light refreshment.

Dave had a momentary crisis. They didn't know that he was living here. If he didn't leave, then they'd know, and Dr. Romano would look more like a sugar daddy than a mentor. He wouldn't look like a protegee, he'd look like a gigolo. Did they know that Dr. Romano was bisexual?

"Robert, Rebecca's lovely," Cecily said. "I wish that I could hire someone like her."

"You're sure that she's only your housekeeper?" John asked, smiling.

"Rebecca and I don't always get along," Dr. Romano said. "She seems to like Dave, but he says that they're 'just friends.'"

Cecily smiled. John chuckled and changed the subject. Dave breathed easier. And when the Grantlys left, he stayed, and no one seemed to notice.

Dave closed his eyes and tried to relax. He consciously loosened the muscles in his shoulders and down his back, breathing regularly. Dr. Romano and Rebecca and Gretel were sleeping, the room was dark, the door was locked. He opened his eyes and looked up at the ceiling through the darkness. Without looking, he patted the bedclothes by his right thigh and found the tube. He uncapped the tube and squirted a little of the gel onto his fingers. He parted his legs, raised his knees, planted his feet, tilted his hips. No problem. He reached one hand down between his spread thighs, behind his balls, down to his asshole. The muscle was clenched tight. Okay, no problem. He massaged himself gently, closing his eyes, breathing softly through parted lips. Just pretend it was someone else, something else, a procedure and a patient. Loosen the muscle, penetrate the area. If he could ever get inside to find it, he could trigger his prostate gland, and that should at least make this more interesting. He pushed his finger inside himself. There, that was easy enough. He stroked the opening, stretching it further until a second finger could join the first. Then he felt around for the gland.

Dave jerked upright, fingers yanked free, eyes wide. "Holy shit," he whispered, and swallowed hard. He breathed for a moment, waiting for his heart to stop hammering like that.

"Dave, are you all right?"

"Sure. Let me tell you that I will marry any woman who puts mint on peas."

"I'll spread the word. You've been here for seven weeks and I have not seen you with one woman."

"Look harder."

"Dave, from what I can tell, you've been popping your clutch at least twice a day. You need to get out and date someone."

"Popping my clutch?"

"You know what I'm talking about."

"Do I get any privacy in this place?"

"You need a girlfriend."

"I don't see you volunteering."

"If you won't get a girlfriend, I am going to get you a boyfriend." She patted his cheek. "And I have the perfect little troll in mind."

"You wouldn't dare."

"You backtalk me you get no mint and no peas ever again, boy."

"Don't threaten me. My social life is my business."

"What about Cleo? You said she's beautiful. Where do guys pick up girls? Spend an afternoon at the mall. Find some girl when you take Gretel to the park."

"I'm not allowed to bring people here. Dr. Romano said so from the start."

"I talked to him yesterday. I asked him whether you could bring girls over, for dinner or to spend the night, and he said that as long as you kept it down to three at a time you could do whatever you wanted."

"You're too smug."

"I only want you to be happy, Dave."

Front door. Gretel's bark and jump. Dave's voice. Gretel heading this way, Dave, and an extra set of footsteps. Rebecca glared at the countertop. She heard the click of high heels.

"Rebecca? Janelle, this is Rebecca."

Rebecca turned and smiled politely. "Hello, Janelle."

"Hi," Janelle said. Long dark hair, killer body, wide blue eyes. Skirt, blouse. Just lovely, and pressed against Dave's side like his conjoined twin. He had one strong arm wrapped around her waist, and she had her hands on him like she owned him. Rebecca wasn't jealous. Rebecca was angry.

"Where'd you meet Dave?" she asked.

"My friend fell while we were roller-blading, and when we got to the E.R. Dave gave her stitches," Janelle said. "He was so nice."

"Dave has a great bedside manner," Rebecca said. "Would you like to stay for dinner?"

"I'd love to," Janelle said.

Rebecca mentally dumped arsenic in the soup.

Janelle stayed for supper, sat on the sofa with Dave, went up to Dave's room, and didn't come down again until it was time for breakfast. Rebecca handed her a plate of pancakes and said, "I hope that you slept well."

"Absolutely," Janelle said. "I'm not stepping on your toes here, am I?"

"Oh, no," Rebecca said. "Dave and I are just friends."

"Good. I'd hate to have to back off. He's perfect."

"That he is," Rebecca agreed with a smile.

"Dave. Who's this?"

"Dr. Romano." Dave's arm tightened around Janelle's waist. "This is Janelle Baker. She works at Miller Hoyt."

"Miss Baker. Nice to meet you."

"You too, Dr. Romano. I can't believe we've never met before this."

"I'm a very busy man," he said.

"You must be."

"We'd better get going," Dave said.

"Don't let me keep you," Dr. Romano said. "Enjoy yourselves."

"Thank you, Dr. Romano. You have a lovely home," Janelle said.

"Only when you're in it."

She turned red with delight. Dave pulled her outside and closed the door. "I like him," she said. "Can't he come to dinner with us?"

"He's a very busy man," Dave said. "Maybe next time."

"Dave, are you out of your mind?"

"I like her! She's fun and she's beautiful and she-"

"Let's be honest. You're good-looking, you have a great body, and I don't know what they taught you in medical school but you are the best kisser I've ever met, not to mention the rest of it. Beside which you're smart, you're well-educated, you're a doctor, and you're in emergency medicine which isn't exactly the simplest field. You could have anyone you want. And you're dating a woman who, while highly attractive and certainly nice enough, is a department store sales clerk."

"So what?"

"She's fine to date. She's fine to sleep with. She sure enjoys sleeping with you."

"She said that?"

"She gave me a soliloquy on it."

"Cool." Dave grinned broadly.

"Dave, you're too smart for her. You need someone you can talk to, someone who challenges you, someone who can engage you in stimulating conversation. You and Dr. Romano used to sit here and talk for hours without realizing that time was passing because you were so intent on the conversation. You sit on the sofa with Janelle and talk about why Janelle hates Martha Stewart! Janelle doesn't excite you, she doesn't stimulate you, she doesn't - - unless we're talking sex, and that's all fine and dandy, but you can't base a relationship on sexual compatibility alone. She's a nice place to visit but I wouldn't want to live there, and neither should you."

"You wanted me to get a girlfriend, so I got a girlfriend. Now you want me to dump her."

"You're better than she is. You deserve better. She's not right for you."

"And who is? You?"

"I'm not the reason you've been living here for ten weeks."

"Janelle really likes Dr. Romano."

"You really like Dr. Romano."

"Can I ask you something?"

Carter looked at him. "Sure, Dave."

"If you're bi, you can be with men or women. Why not stick with women and make it easier on yourself?"

"I love Peter. Dating a woman won't make me stop loving Peter. And pretending that I don't love Peter isn't going to make my life any easier."

"So you follow your heart. And your dick."

"Yes."

"And if they both point to the same person, whether it's male or female, you should go for it."

"Yes."

"And to hell with what everybody else says."

"Yes."

"And if that person totally rejects you?"

"Then you kill him. And his little dog, too." Carter winked.

"You don't know."

"I know."

"Does everybody know?"

"Just me. Not Peter, not Abby. Not Dr. Green or Dr. Weaver. Just me."

"Tell anyone, I'll kill you."

"Dave, relax. I can keep a secret. Promise."

"You fuck this up for me-"

"And ruin the chance to watch you fuck it up yourself?"

"I'm not going to fuck it up."

"Good."

"Speaking of fucking... Do guys kiss different from girls?"

"Yeah. Guys are better."

"And sticking your dick up a guy's butt, it feels good?"

"You'll love it."

"You'd better be right."

Rebecca was clearing the table. Dr. Romano said, "I haven't seen Miss Baker around for a few days."

"We broke up," Dave said. "It wasn't working out. Rebecca didn't think that she was right for me."

"Well, Rebecca speaks the gospel truth," Dr. Romano said. "Too bad. She was pretty."

"And vapid," Rebecca muttered as she turned on the faucet.

"Vapid can be pleasant," Dr. Romano said.

"Long-term?" Rebecca asked.

"No. For long-term, the vapid should stick with the vapid. Are you sure that you don't want to replace Miss Baker in Dr. Dave's bed?" Dr. Romano asked.

"I'm sure."

"It's up to you. Were you moving my journals again?"

"Which one's missing now?" Rebecca asked patiently.

"The Critical."

"Oh, I have it," Dave said. "I'm sorry, I took it up to my room. I'll get it for you."

"No rush," Dr. Romano said. "Anything interesting in it?"

They spent the next four hours talking. Then Dr. Romano went upstairs. Dave ran to Rebecca down in the basement. "Talk to me."

"About what? What's wrong?"

"Is there anything I need to know?"

"About what? Oh my god, Dave, you're going to do it. Aren't you?"

"I knew I should have...popped my clutch...this morning. Now I'm too nervous to think straight. Think straight, that's funny."

"Don't get hysterical. Dave, don't force it. Not all people have sex on the first date."

"Well, they should."

"Oh, I should have told you this ages ago. Dr. Romano doesn't use condoms. He doesn't like them. So if you've picked up anything that requires a condom, then you'd better go back to popping your clutch."

"I don't have anything, I'm all clean, but isn't it good sexual practice to use a condom anyway? The man's a doctor and he doesn't use condoms?"

"Hey, doctors smoke. Doctors are idiots. Live with it. What are you going to do, knock on his door and offer a bottle of lubricant?"

"Do you know...what he likes?"

"We haven't pored over the Kama Sutra together, Dave, I cook him spaghetti. Be glad that I know what I know."

"Okay. I'll just wing it."

"I'm so nervous."

"You're nervous!"

"Are you sure you're ready?"

"Why are we assuming that this is going anywhere? He doesn't want me. Rebecca, he doesn't want me."

"Would you just go do it!"

Dave ran upstairs, brushed his teeth, and chickened out. He couldn't do it. He couldn't face the thought of asking another man to kiss him, of looking into Dr. Romano's brown eyes and, what? Asking for a blow job? Giving a blow job? Hey, he could lick pussy like a pro but he didn't know how to do that to a man. Delivering a fuck he could handle, as long as he managed to stretch and lube first. It might be different, but the basic concept was the same. Getting fucked, having someone enter his body, was a violation. He didn't want to think about a man doing to him what he did to women.

But when he finger-fucked himself, it felt good. It felt more than good.

That night, he didn't go near Dr. Romano, and he kept his hands off of himself. He curled up on his side and tried to sleep. He hated himself for being a coward.

In the morning, Dave ignored his hard-on. He wilted it in the shower with a blast of cold water and told it to take a hike. He shaved, he pulled on clean boxers, and he watched through amazed eyes as he picked up the journal, left the room, and walked down the hall a few feet to knock on Dr. Romano's door.

The door opened. Dr. Romano was there in that heavy robe. "Dr. Dave."

Clean and half-naked, clad only in his boxers, Dave held out The Critical. "Did you want this?"

"I did," Dr. Romano said. "That was before it had some brunette's fingerprints all over it."

Good lord, the man picked that up quick. "It's as good as new."

"I don't like sloppy seconds."

"It was yours to begin with. I just didn't think that you were going to need it."

"I don't know if I want it anymore."

"I'm sorry."

Dr. Romano's eyes flickered over him in distaste; Dr. Romano accepted the journal and closed the door in his face.

Rejection. He'd been rejected. Dr. Romano didn't want him. He disgusted the man.

Dave remembered to breathe, then backed up fast and went to his room. He closed the door and laid on his bed. He was never going to get up again. He would never leave this room or speak to anyone. How was he supposed to go downstairs? How could he ever go to work? How could he face Dr. Romano ever again? And Rebecca, what would she think of him? He was pathetic and disgusting and stupid and not much of a doctor, and everybody knew it.

He was not crying. He didn't cry. Men didn't cry.

He closed his eyes and hated himself.

There was a knock at the door. Rebecca. He ignored it. The door opened. "Dave?" He heard the door close; she was probably in the room with him now. "Dave, I'm sorry. Tell me what happened."

What had he expected, anyway? For Dr. Romano to want him? For Dr. Romano to take an inexperienced kid into bed? For Dr. Romano to kiss him and get naked with him and have sex with him? Why would the man take the time? Why would Dr. Romano care? Who wanted to break in a virgin? Sure, it had its appeals, but getting dirty with someone who knew all of the hot tricks was better. Dr. Romano hadn't gotten laid in years; maybe it was just a lack of interest, and if Dr. Romano didn't want smart sexy people, why would anyone suddenly just break a habit of years just to get a hand in Dave's pants? He was stupid and arrogant and presumptuous and-

"Dave, you have to get up. Come on, you have to dress and eat and get to work."

"Damn it, leave me alone."

"At least open your eyes to look at me when you're swearing at me," Rebecca said. "Dave, you're a good doctor. You've proven yourself. Don't mess up now by showing up late."

"Who says I'm showing up at all?" Dave asked.

"Oh, you're going," Rebecca said. "If I have to dress you myself, knock you unconscious, and drive you to work myself, you're going."

She was such a hard-ass sometimes. He was really going to miss her. He'd have to move back into his apartment today. He'd never make it there before work, so he'd have to come back here after work to get his stuff. Not a good idea. He'd pack now and take it to the hospital with him. Then he'd be asked what it was. Wait, he wasn't going to work at all, ever again. Never. Not if he had to face...

He rolled onto his stomach, face in his arms, and sobbed.

Such a pansy-ass. He'd seriously fucked up now, hadn't he? His working life and home life all centered around one person, and now he never could face that person again, so what was he going to do, get a new job? No way. He was stuck where he was. But moving out, he'd move out, definitely.

Crying, he was crying, he never cried, never ever. Rebecca was running a soothing hand over his back. At least she still liked him. And Gretel probably liked him. And Carter didn't hate him. So his life only sucked ninety-nine percent, not the full 100 he'd thought.

"Dave, what happened?"

He rolled onto his back. Her hand was resting on his chest now, but there was nothing sexual about it. "I fucked up royally. Surprise surprise." He could barely get out the bitter words.

"Dave..."

"I offered, and he didn't even bother to say no. He just looked at me, and he closed the door in my face."

"Dave...I'm sorry. I thought - - I'm sure there's... I know he likes you."

"Why would he?" Dave asked. "What's to like?"

"Hey, I like you. Don't insult my taste."

"I'm moving out today."

"No."

"Are you crazy? You want me to stay here? Now?"

"Yes. If he wants you to leave, he can say it. He can tell you."

"You're mad at him."

"He deserves it. What's he thinking? Not much, obviously."

"He hasn't paid me for baby-sitting Gretel, and he'd better not, now. It makes me look like, god, his gigolo, his kept boy, his-"

"Dave."

"You know it does."

"I know," she agreed. "But it's not like that."

"Obviously not."

"No, I mean... Oh, there's no talking to you in this state. Look, if you want to get to work you'd better get dressed. And if it's any consolation, I want you."

"Thanks."

He made it to work on time with his suitcase. After work he went to his apartment. He had to run out again to buy groceries, and he had to sweep up some dust. The whole place seemed cramped and ugly and bare; he was used to high ceilings, plush carpets, everything spotless thanks to Rebecca and lavish thanks to money. There was no great dog, no smart generous blonde, and no...no....

He needed to get a grip on himself. Spiralling into depression would not make his life any better.

"I thought that you were getting your act together," Carter told him.

"What do you mean?"

"You've been proving Dr. Corday wrong for weeks now, but," Carter handed him a pink slip of paper, "you've been called to the principal's office."

"The assistant principal's the one when you're in trouble," Dave said. "The principal's-"

"Of course you would know that," Carter said.

"Of course you wouldn't," Dave said just as mockingly. He looked at the paper. "What is this?"

"You can't read English anymore? Randy's handwriting isn't that bad."

Dave leaned over the desk. "Randy!" She turned to him impatiently, sulkily. "What's this message?"

"Dr. Romano called. He wants to see you in his office when your shift's over."

"For what?"

"He didn't say."

"Shit." He threw away the paper.

"What is it?" Carter asked. "Seriously."

"Whatever it is, I'm not going to like it."

"Something happened?"

Dave met his eyes and nodded. "I made an offer he could refuse," he admitted with a wry smile. When had he developed a wry smile? It probably just looked goofy. He stopped.

"Ouch," Carter said. "You okay? Dave, you know that if he fires you over that-"

"What, it's sexual harassment? I'm the one who came on to him."

"Yeah, but he can't fire you for it. What'd you say?"

"I showed up at his bedroom door in my boxers."

"You're the one who stole the enema kit, aren't you?"

"Oh god." Dave walked away.

"Dave, no, wait. Dave, it's okay." Carter caught up with him. "Go see what he wants. Don't assume the worst."

"Easy for you to say. Your ass isn't on the line."

"My heart isn't on the line."

"Don't get Hallmark card on me."

"Let me know what happens."

"What makes you think I'm sticking around to talk to anybody?"

His shift ended. Option #1: stick around the E.R. and procrastinate. Option #2: go home and pretend to forget the appointment. Option #3: be an adult, be a man, and go to Dr. Romano's office.

He'd spent hours in Dr. Romano's kitchen talking at length over long-finished meals. He'd gone to dinner with Dr. Romano's friends. He'd become accepted as a master by Dr. Romano's beloved pet. He'd lounged in the man's living room like it was his own apartment, for Christ's sake. Why was he afraid? He'd moved into Dr. Romano's life - - they weren't equals for several reasons (age, wealth, profession) but in a sense he'd been Dr. Romano's, what? Indulged nephew? He stopped trying to sort it out and just went upstairs to the office. He'd never been there, but he knew where it was.

He knocked. "Yes," he heard. He turned the knob and pushed open the door. "You wanted to see me, Dr. Romano?" he asked, entering. He was still in his blue scrubs, he realized belatedly. Dr. Romano was behind a desk, writing something.

"Yes," Dr. Romano said, still writing, barely glancing up at him but seeming to see everything in that look. "Shut the door, please."

He closed the door and came forward. As he was wondering whether he should sit, Dr. Romano stood abruptly, tossing down the pen. "You've moved back into your apartment?"

"Yes." Okay, personal, not business. Was that good or bad? He wasn't sure that he could deal with the personal stuff.

Dr. Romano came around to stand in front of the desk, then crossed his arms and leaned back against it. He was in his white lab coat. "Are you very much attached to it?"

"I'm not emotionally involved with it or anything. It was cheap and available."

"I see that your taste in living agrees with your taste in food and your taste in women. You wouldn't prefer something a little more expensive, extravagant, established-"

"Eclectic, ephemeral, exotic, esoteric, eccentric-"

"Thank you. Could I persuade you to move back into my place?"

"Why? You don't want me there."

"Rebecca does. Gretel does."

"You aren't afraid of other people finding out about it?"

"No. You'd save money on rent, food, laundry, telephone bills, and whatever odd expenses you usually incur."

"Did Rebecca tell you to do this?"

"Since when do I listen to Rebecca? She's not speaking to me anyway."

"Dr. Romano, I can't live there anymore. I wouldn't feel comfortable."

"The offer stands, if you change your mind." Dr. Romano reached back on the desk and handed him a check. "Do you want this?"

"No, thank you."

"I thought as much. All right, that's it. I have work to do. Move back in if you feel like it. At least feel free to stop by and see Rebecca or Gretel."

"Thank you." He left, closing the door.

matthew@matthewtime.com
"Rocket Launcher" Part Two: "Blast Off"
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