Something to Talk About, Part 1
Disclaimer: All characters are not owned by me, but the wonderful people of NBC, etc.
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Rating: PG-13, for some mild language
Dr. David Malucci sat at a chair at the ERís hectic front desk. His mind raced as he thought of the conversation he had had with Kerry Weaver earlier that morning.
"Can you please come to the lobby around 10, Dave? We need to have a chat. Nothing serious." she had said.
"Yeah, sure." he responded. He couldnít help but think what it was about now. He and Deb had settled their feud. His thoughts were interrupted by a decidedly female voice.
"Dr. Malucci, the lounge, please." she turned toward the small room reserved for ER personnel only. Her copper hair sparkled in a flash from the window. He followed like a puppy his master, hands in his pockets. He sat in an old, cushiony brown chair, and she leaned against the tainted blue counter.
"Dave, I want to make this short and sweet. Youíve been a nuisance lately, thereís no denying it. I just wanted to make sure you knew that. The point is that I think you should straighten up. Youíre not a med student anymore, youíre a doctor, and you ought to start acting like one." She paused. "Iím letting you know this for your own good. There are some people here, notably
Romano, who thinks you should be booted."
He rolled his eyes cynically. Iím a resident, he thought, not a baby. He ran a hand through his short, brown hair, sighing.
"Youíre dismissed, she said, jumping out of her chair. She motioned for him to follow her, evidently out to the lobby.
"Letís just remember this little chat, shall we? I have a cut that needs sutured in one.. can you take it?" He bit his lip. I may not be able to have exciting cases all the time, but do I really need to suture?, he thought."Malucci, you need to learn patience. Fast. Now get to work." She handed him a folder concerning the patient. He walked across the crowded hall to the room labled "Exam Room 1". He grabbed the cold bronze handle and took some lazy steps into the hospital room. But he froze when he saw a female figure gracefully suturing. Deb had this patient.
"Uh, Deb..Jing-Mei." He remarked, remembering her "name change". She turned, her vibrant black hair swaying against her white overcoat.
"Malucci." Her face transformed into a blank stare. "I have this patient. Didnít you see my name on the board?"
"Kerry sent me here." He paused. He didnít want to tell her about he and Kerryís little "talk". He opted for the cowardís way out.
"I guess she didnít see you on the board."
"Guess so." she quipped sarcastically. "Why would you want a suture like this, anyway?" she responded, her eyes ablaze. The nerve of him to steal her patient..
"I donít want it, you know that. Thereís just nothing really going on, and I thought.."
"Can we hurry this up, please?" the large woman patient finally broke her silence. Jing-Mei turned to her.
"Just one moment." She turned back to Malucci. "Dave, I like all the residents, butyouíre starting to get to me. And I donít get mad, I get even. So please, just find another patient, okay?" She sighed. Why didnít he get it?
"Sure." He walked out of the dimly-lit room quietly. Damn, she thought, that was easy. He slipped into the lounge to grab his leather jacket, and then left the ER, en route to Doc Magooís. Itís been a hard week for everyone, but more for me. This whole Jing-Mei thing is more than over my head, he thought. The snow crunched under his feet, the final remains of winter showing their colors. But Iím starting to get used to her. Sheís a pain in the ass, but Iím starting to get used to her. Sheís nice to be around sometimes, to keep me in line. He stopped, almost laughing. Have feelings for Jing-Mei? No. He laughed, and headed over to the worn diner.
Read Part 2