It was a truly beautiful day: The sun was shining, the air was warm and trees breathed deeply, shaking their leaves. A lazy cloud floated through the empty blue sky, waving to a passing plane. None of this could be seen by many people, however, and three of these people were currently stood inside a hospital operating theatre, having a vital discussion..
"Yeah," the anaesthetist, Guy, said, swaying on the spot, bored of having nothing interesting to do, as usual. "But if you two had got married, then I'd have to call Mac 'Mac' and you, 'Mac Two' .. That sounds like a superhero. You could have been a superhero and worn something tight." Caroline smiled beneath her mask, her eyes looking first to Guy, then Mac, then down to the patient. "Well," she said, getting her hands mucky as she assisted Mac in the operation, "we may still get married.." She trailed off like a subtle wink to Mac. He was smiling with his eyes, briefly pausing what he was doing to watch Caroline. Often he wondered what life would have been like if he had proposed to her, but he knew that she and Guy loved each other, even if it was very deep down, hidden in the depths of hell. They were married, after all.
Guy grabbed a nearby tube. Air was flooding out of it. He gestured with it, menacingly at Caroline. "Oi," he glared jealously, "You're mine." A loud beeping caused Guy to fix the tube back in place. The patient continued to breath normally. Caroline was quick to respond. "I'm yours, am I?" She raised an eyebrow. Mac stayed out of it for a moment, concentrating on the operation, not allowing himself to speak his thoughts. "Yes, you are." Guy responded, pointing his finger. "You're my bitch." Silence fell upon the three. A nurse gave an awkward cough. It was Mac who spoke first. "I think you'll find that Caroline still counts as a human." He devoted his thoughts to the operation. Guy opened his mouth to speak. Caroline interrupted. "Thank you, Mac." She said, making this sound like the last thing that should be said on the subject, though her thoughts were mixed between annoyed and flattered. She still cared a lot about Mac. Of course she did.
Meanwhile in the canteen, Martin and Boyce were making two long rows across the table, out of matchsticks. "Right," Boyce said over the general hum of noise, looking at the target table which seated four women. "Hit each one, you go free, miss any of them, you have to do the dare." He was grinning as he wielded his four ping-pong balls between his fingers. Martin looked unsure. This was not unusual. "Does it have to be.." he paused to mime a set of breasts for himself. ".. And all?" Boyce nodded in reply. "Yep." He said, still smiling, still happy. "That is if she has any." He gave a laugh. "Let the games begin."
The target of the game was to flick all four ping-pong balls (one for each) at the targets (the seated women on the next table over). Missing a target would result in having to dress up as one of the women. Both men launched the ping-pong balls at the same time. Seven of them hit the targets. "Haha, you lose." Boyce said, standing up and sticking his finger in Martin's face, before moving it to his head and forming an 'L' shape. Martin looked affronted. "What do you mean I lose? It was you who missed!" The targets were glaring. The oldest of them, stood up. "Come on, girls," Harriet said, causing the other women to join her in leaving the canteen, throwing the two men dirty looks.
"No, look," Boyce began, demonstrating to Martin, on an imaginary map, the way in which the targets had been hit. Martin was having none of it. "You're wrong." He looked a little sulky. Boyce sighed. "I'm not dressing like a.. like a.. like one of them. I hit all the targets." Martin's voice was hurt and desperate. Boyce rolled his eyes, knowing that the only reason he was about to say what he did, was to get at Alan Statham. "If you're too scared to do it alone, then I'll do it with you." It was a nice offer, and one that Martin managed to misinterpret. "I.. I've always done it alone," he began nervously, "and I.. I'm sorry if I've given the wrong impression, but I don't.. I don't swing that way." Boyce shot him a puzzled look. Martin paused, frowning, mind ticking. You could almost see the thought walking slowly to the control room, briefcase in one hand, umbrella in the other. "Oh," Martin's mouth shot wide open in realisation. "You meant you'll do the forfeit with me! Right! Got it." He seemed happy enough as he stood up. "I'll see you later." he called out behind him as he left Boyce standing at the table, a puzzled half smile on his face.
"See you there." Guy said, waving over his shoulder at Mac and Caroline as he walked smoothly from the theatre. The operation was over and Mac and Caroline had time to talk. Whether they would use this time, was a whole different matter, completely. "Mac," Caroline said softly, narrowly avoiding a quick turn of the head to make sure no-one was present. Just because she was married to Guy, didn't mean she couldn't speak to Mac. "Thanks for.." She gestured back at the silent room they had just left. "..You know." She smiled at him. Mac raised an eyebrow. "I'm awfully sorry- didn't realise that I'm supposed to be a mind reader." There was humour in his tone. Caroline lifted a hand to re-fluff her hair. "Defending me," she said, gesturing madly with her head towards the doors. "Against Guy." Mac always knew what she meant, but there was little fun in being straightforward. "Did I?" he said in a tone of mock surprise. "I thought you were capable of defending yourself against your own husband.. ?" He was referring to the frying pan incident. "Ah, ah!" Caroline began, opening her mouth to speak, "that's irrelevant. And, besides, it's not like I actually meant to hit him, but if he will disappear for three days without a single word.." Her words faded. Mac's eyes seemed to alter to the emotion of amusement. "Oh, really? From what I've heard, it was after he'd bought the sailboat." The two exchanged looks for a moment, staring into each others eyes. There was a certain warm tension between them, but neither said nor did anything about it, except for walk away with that shine in their eyes. That knowing. That understanding. That hidden feeling.
Joanna leant back in her chair, forcing it into a ninety degree angle. She took a cigarette from her bag and stuffed it into her mouth, before removing her lighter and flicking it at the cigarette. She chucked the lighter down on the table and held the cigarette between her lips, breathing with it as though it were a life support machine. She gave a satisfied sigh as she relaxed further into her seat. The smoke from her cigarette travelled upwards, twisting and dancing its way into the circular white device, above. The device gave a sudden shout. Joanna fell off her chair in alarm. She sprung up again, looking out to the office girls. She practically kicked her office door open, looking into the next office which was inhabited by the four women from the canteen. They were all sat there, eyes on computer screens, typing away. "Why the fuck is there a sodding fire alarm in my office?" Joanna demanded an answer. The women continued to type, but the oldest of them spoke. "Actually, it's a smoke alarm." Harriet corrected, before looking over her shoulder at Kim and Naughty Rachel. "We just got one in our living room- so we know if Jamie has set fire to television.. Erm.. Again." Harriet explained, before continuing on with her work. Joanna raised an eyebrow. She decided she would be getting no answers, here. Inwardly groaning, she returned to her office and lit another cigarette. The alarm sounded, once more. Joanna was having none of it. "Oh, fuck off." She said, lobbing the telephone at the device, which hit with a satisfying crack and split both alarm and phone in two. Joanna raised her eyebrows, puffing on her cigarette.
Guy was stood in the kitchen, juggling oranges. Caroline and Mac were sat down, both looming over a newspaper that someone had managed to leave behind. "Shame." She said, reading about a double teen suicide. "Such a waist." Guy, upon hearing these words, voiced his own thoughts. He'd already read the paper. Well, bits of it. "Probably both uglies with nowhere to go. They'll be better off not polluting the gene pool." Mac and Caroline turned to stare at Guy. Mac closed his eyes for a fraction longer than normal. Caroline glared. "Stop it!" She snapped angrily at Guy, "Why must you make everything into another one of your sick jokes?" She stood up, walking towards Guy, who had stopped juggling, and giving him one of her looks before she stormed off from the room with a pissed off "Argh!" Now it was just the two men, looking at each other. Guy's expression was puzzled. She chucked two of the oranges casually behind him, taking a bite out of the last one. "What?" He asked a staring Mac. Mac rolled his eyes and stood up. He made to leave. As he passed Guy, he paused and looked over. "By the way, just a tip, but you're supposed to take the skin off." Mac gestured to the unpeeled orange before chasing after Caroline. Guy stood there, silent, making sure Mac was gone before he spat the peel from his mouth. A nurse passed by, taking an apple. "What?" He hissed at her.
By the time Mac had caught up to Caroline, who he had not seen double round and change direction entirely, she was in the locker room. Well, upon entering the room, he hadn't seen her, but he knew she was there. "Caroline," he projected his voice around the empty locker room. "I know you're in here." He refrained from saying anymore at that moment as he took out his key and stepped in front of his locker, inserting the key and opening it. The door opened. "Do you want to talk about it?" He said to Caroline who was squished inside the locker. She looked forlorn. She shook her head. Mac continued to hold the door open, watching her avoiding his eyes. "Do you want to nod about it?" he suggested. Caroline nodded in agreement. "Alright.. Is this.. Is this about those teenagers?" Mac a slight smile pinned to his face. He always had that smile. It was sympathetic and full of meaning. Caroline shook her head. No, it wasn't about the suicides. "Is this anything to do with Guy?" Mac already had a good idea of what was going on, but he never said a word of it. Caroline nodded. "Has he upset you?" Caroline twitched but made no definite movement. "If it's a maybe," Mac added, helpfully, "then you can shrug." Caroline shrugged. "Is there something important you want to tell me?" In some ways, Caroline was glad that Mac could read her like a book, in others, her heart began to thud guiltily. She nodded. Mac said nothing, but took a step back from the locker, still holding the door open. Caroline climbed out, eagerly fixing her hair before looking Mac in the eyes and attempting to speak. "I think.. I think.." Mac could feel her embarrassment. He interrupted. "Thinking is good." He smiled at her. Caroline smiled back at him. But then her eyes dropped to her stomach, before rejoining Mac's. Mac's heart sank. He would never tell her this, of course. He knew what the problem was, what she thought was wrong. Nothing was definite, yet, nothing was confirmed. "Does Guy know?" Mac asked, looking completely serious. Caroline shook her head and awkwardly climbed back into Mac's locker. "No." she replied. And with that, she pulled the door shut, Mac locked it and walked off.
The next morning was equally beautiful and bursting with life. The world seemed normal and calm.. Well, sort of. In one hospital, two 'women' made their entrance..
"Are you sure this is okay?" Martin asked nervously, dressed as Karen, a curly wig and all. He was also wearing a grey skirt, a formal green top and a pair of shining black heels. Boyce, who stood beside him in a tight red top, two melons resting in the bra he also wore, a pair of black heels and a short black skirt with a slit at the side, smiled at Martin. He was supposed to be Naughty Rachel. "You look stunning, darling." Boyce said, waving his hand in dismissal. Martin looked down at himself, considering the words. "Oh, thanks. Do you really think so?" He looked back up at a rather amused Boyce. "Hey.. Where's your wig?" Martin furrowed his brow, suspiciously. "Couldn't get hold of one," Boyce replied, grabbing his melons through his top and giving them a squeeze. "Unlike these.." Martin looked pissed off. "But I wore a wig- you should wear a wig.. Or.. Something." He placed a hand on his hip, sizing up the other man. Boyce could see a familiar figure in the distance. "I can put a towel over my head, if you like?" He suggested. Martin frowned. He shook his head. "It's fine. Don't bother." He walked sulkily off- before darting back. "If I could just.." He placed his hands on Boyce's melon, rubbing them through the shirt and bra. Boyce began to feign orgasmic sighs.
"Morning." Harriet said cheerfully, sitting down at her desk. The three other women sat behind their desks, looking at her. "Are you.. Is it because I'm on time? Please say it's because I'm on time." Harriet pleaded, before turning and pulling at one shoulder of her sick. A familiar stench filled her nostrils. "Oh.. Oh, God. Sorry.. Sorry." She began a hurried apology, before running from the room and heading to the toilets to wash the baby sick off her shoulder.
Alan outstretched his metal silver rod to its fullest length. He was certain that he would cope with Boyce's antics, today. There was nothing to surprise him. At least, that's what he thought. A knock at the closed door, signalled the arrival of his students. "Ah.. Ah-ha! Come on, yes, come on in." He twitched, almost knocking his own glasses off. The small group entered. They crowded round and stood in silence. Alan turned his head, this way and that. "W-" he went to speak, but twitched again, knocking his glasses askew. After straightening them up, he continued. "Where is Mr. Boyce, today?" One member of the group answered. "He went to your office, sir." They were kept very much like a class by Alan Statham, and he found the pleasure center of his brain being stimulated by being addressed so formally. "Right, yes, thank you." He muttered, leaping from the classroom and twitching his way to his office. He stepped inside and closed the door. "Right, Mr. Boyce," he began before turning around. "Oh- Oh, I do apologise." One of his hands shot up to adjust his glasses. The other hand slapped it away. "W-What can I do for you, m-madam?" Boyce, still dressed in drag, found this terribly amusing; he had since managed to find himself a wig, thanks to Sue White, and a stick of red lipstick. It was still obvious that he was Boyce, but Alan Statham didn't seem to notice. Boyce said not a word, not wishing to give himself away. Alan looked confused, but carried on. "Well, I.. I have a class I am supposed to be t-taking, right now, but if you need anything-" At that moment, Boyce approached Alan, getting close to him, wiggling his melons. Alan stared at the fruit, mouth a little open, his hand not the only thing that began rising up. "Uh.. Er.. No!" He slapped his hand back down, forcing them to sit at his sides. "I.." He twitched again. "I'm sorry, but I can't help you if you d-don't t-tell me anything." Boyce ginned, reaching out a hand and using a finger to beckon Alan forward. Alan did as he was told and Boyce guided his hands to the melons. Alan began stuttering worse than ever, rubbing his hands around in circles and closing his eyes. Suddenly, a voice shocked him back to life. "Oh, Alan!" Boyce feigned moaning in his highest voice. Alan's eyes had shot open and he was looking around for the source of the voice, before he realised it was directly in front of him. "I.. W-What?" Boyce took off his wig. "It's me, Mr. Statham." Alan immediately released his hold on the melons, jumping back. "D-D-D-Doctor Statham to y-you, me.. Me laddy." He tried to keep his cool, but Boyce was struggling to hold in a laugh. "Yes, doctor." he replied, mockingly. "Did you enjoy fondling my breasts?" This made Alan jump with a twitch. "I did no such th-thing!" he snapped defensively. Boyce had a gleaming smile painted onto his pace. "No, of course you didn't, Alan." He winked, walking to the door, opening it and leaving the room with his hips swaying femininely. Alan sprinted to the door to shout after him. "Doctor Statham!"
In another part of the hospital, everything was about to kick off. Mac was in the children's ward, reading to a terminally ill girl. Caroline found them. "Mac," she said, getting his attention. "About earlier-" Her words were cut off as Guy slid round from behind a curtain, grinning like the idiot he was. "What happened earlier?" He butted in, looking between the two adults. Mac answered. "We had a discussion." Caroline said nothing, but kept her eyes focussed on Mac, willing him to say nothing. He gave her a look that said he wouldn't, but she should. Guy spoke up, again. "Oh, yeah? What about?" He hopped fully from the curtain for no apparent reason. His arm soon snaked around Caroline's shoulders. Mac was quick with his answer. No hesitation in his voice, whatsoever. "About what a twat you are." Mac looked back to the little girl. She smiled at him, innocently. Guy felt this was answer enough. "Oh.. Right, fine then." He made his exit. "Later, losers!" he called out before skipping off down one of the corridors.
Caroline exhaled. "Mac-" she tried to speak again, but he blanked her. "Shall we continue with the story?" He asked the little girl. Caroline took this as her cue to leave, mouthing her thanks to Mac. The little girl nodded and Mac lifted the book back up for the two of them to see. The little girl opened her mouth to talk. "What's a 'twat'?" Mac raised his eyebrows in reply.
"Come in." Sue White said in her usual voice. Alan Statham entered. He sat down. "And what can I do for you?" She asked, twisting and untwisting in the red drape she was hanging sideways from. Alan didn't notice. He just whittered on. "I-I am absolutely" he shakily banged his fist on the desk. "F-fed up with Mr. Boyce. I just can't take it any-anymore!" Sue nodded in agreement. "Okay, and is this because he is too dominant in the bedroom?" This question made Alan twitch further. "N-No!" he declared, "Mr. Boyce has never been in.. in.." He gave an awkward cough. Boyce had been in his bedroom, but he was not going to talk about that. Sue spun down to her desk, claimed a pen and notebook, and began writing something. "I see," she said, "go on." Alan went to bang his fist on the table. There was no passion in it. He stood up. "He can't stay here any lon-longer!" He said, forcing his arms to fold, unfold, grope his groin, slap each other and fix onto his hips. "I-I just w-wont have.. Have it!" Sue White looked amused. She rolled down from her drape, somehow managing to hover just above the desk. "And what are you going to do?" she asked in her Scottish accent, lifting her eyebrows, then dropping them, then lifting, then dropping. "Stutter him to death?" She smiled cruelly before winding back up high into the drape. Alan leapt forward at the desk, trying to snatch at her face, but he missed quite epically and twitched his way to the door, only briefly turning to wag his finger. "Y-Y-Y-You!" And, with that, he left.
"So, what's it all about?" Guy asked in the locker room, looking between Caroline and Mac. The day was nearing its end and the three were preparing to go home. Caroline looked nervously to Mac. Mac remained cool, looking to Guy. "Nope," he started, shake his head, "I'm still not a mind reader. Would you care to be more specific?" The sun was everywhere, even in windowless rooms. It just seemed to bounce around, mating with itself and spawning more golden evening light. "You know," Guy pressed, "you guys- what you were talking about earlier." Caroline and Mac exchanged looks. "Oh, come on," Guy added with a laugh, "You didn't think I'd actually believed that rubbish about you guys thinking I'm a twat- especially Caroline, who is married to me." He put emphasis into these final words, bobbing towards his wife and placing an arm around her shoulder. Caroline flinched. She prayed Guy wouldn't notice, but he did. Mac did as well. "I.. I should be going." Mac tried to seem friendly about it all and turned to leave. Caroline's arm reached out, grabbing him and stopping him. "If I'm going to do this, I'm not doing it alone." Guy stared. Mac turned back around. Caroline readied herself. "Do what?" Guy asked, beginning to get annoyed. He had withdrawn his hand from Caroline and was looking between the other two people in the room. Mac was silent. Caroline closed her eyes, inhaled, spoke, exhaled. "Tell you that I'm pregnant."