Chapter 1

"Okay, this one's for the championship! Can he do it? Can he do it? Can he- awww, too bad."

"You're distracting me," Carter pointed out as the paper ball bounced out of the trash can.

"Nope, you just can't shoot," Pratt said, smiling. "Now that's how you do it!" he crowed, as he sunk his paper ball with ease.

"Cheater," Carter grumbled.

"Do you two need something to do?" Weaver barked.

Carter leapt from his chair and started organizing medical supplies. Pratt gazed at a chart, deep concern in his eyes. "What?" Pratt asked, as if she was distracting him from his work.

Weaver sighed. "We've got a trauma coming in. Fifteen year old boy, probable drug overdose, got hit by the car in a drive-by."

Pratt shook his head. "Happens every day. It's a shame, these kids throwing their lives away."

"Want me to take it?" Carter asked.

Pratt shook his head. "No, you stay here and work on your shot," he said, smiling.

Carter shook his head. "Cheaters never prosper!" he yelled at Pratt as he disappeared through the ambulance bay doors.

"Something I should know about?" Abby asked, walking up to the desk.

Carter grinned sheepishly. "No, just Pratt...cheating...as usual."

"You should be used to it by now."

"Yeah, I am, but I don't have anybody else to play with!" Carter moaned dramatically.

"Well, maybe you could just take care of some sick people instead!" Abby suggested brightly.

"Oh hardy-hardy-har. Everybody gets their laughs on Carter," he grumbled.

"We sure do!" Susan said cheerfully. "What are we laughing about?"

"Carter," Chuni said helpfully.

"Doesn't anybody have any work to do around here?" Carter asked, pretending to be irritated with his co-workers.

"I was about to ask the same thing," Weaver said, and everyone suddenly found something to do. "Did you get that suture kit, Abby?" Susan asked, bustling towards the suture room.

"Sure did," Abby said, following Susan. Carter crumpled his coffee cup and aimed for the trash can. He missed. Oh well, he could try again. Ah, the joy of slow days.

"Carter, we need you in here," Chuni said, sticking her head out of Trauma 1, and Carter was more than happy to comply. On a day like this, he would take any work he could get.

___________________________________________

"Another busy day?" Carter asked as he walked up to the admit desk.

Malik was spinning in a chair, but he paused to answer. "Yeah, we're swamped. Hey, I got next on that computer," he said to Jing-Mei, who was playing solitaire.

"Yeah, right," Jing-Mei scoffed. "If you want something to do, go rearrange drug lock-up."

Malik sighed loudly and walked away. "Hey, Carter, you up for another ball game?" Pratt asked, gesturing towards the already overflowing trash can.

Carter shook his head. "Nah, I wanted to check on a patient I had yesterday. Mind if I use that computer, Deb?"

"Just let me finish this hand," Jing-Mei said. "Another seven? How many are in this deck, anyway?"

"You need to learn how to play cards the real way," Pratt said, whipping a deck of cards out of his back pocket. "Anybody up for a hand of poker? Anybody?" He was greeted with silence.

Chen laughed. "I prefer my way. At least if my co-workers all hate me, I don't have to know it."

"They don't hate me, they're just…busy." Pratt glanced around the room. Malik and Yosh were making paper airplanes, Chuni was painting Susan's nails, and Jerry was on the phone talking to his mother.

"Yep, they're really busy," Chen observed. "Yes! An eight! Finally!" She started to do a victory dance, but realized that that would give Malik a chance to steal her seat. So she simply settled for a shout of victory, drawing a strange glance from a patient who was waiting for his labs to come back.

"It's Friday night, you'd think somebody would be here," Carter said, leaning against the desk as he gazed at the empty waiting area. "Is there some holiday going on that we don't know about?"

"Groundhog's day is next Monday," Susan reminded them. "Guess everybody's getting ready."

Just then, a man walked in the door. "Excuse me, but I seemed to have dropped a hammer on my thumb, and it's quite painful-"

"Right this way, sir," said Pratt.

"I can help you," said Carter at the same time.

"What's your name?" asked Jerry, his words blending with the other two's.

The man stared at them curiously. "Um, why…thank you," he said cautiously. He allowed Carter and Pratt to escort him to Exam 1.

"I love slow days," Susan said exultantly. Holding up a bottle of Sensuous Mauve nail polish, she said, "Jing-Mei, you want in on this?"

______________________________________________________________

"And so what am I supposed to do if I don't have any eights?"

Pratt sighed loudly. "For the third time, if you don't have any you're not supposed to tell us. Just put down any card and pretend it's an eight."

"But why?"

Pratt threw his arms down on the table. "That's it. I'm not teaching any more card games to any more Croatians, I don't care how slow it is." He walked away from the desk, leaving Susan and Luka holding their cards.

"What were you guys playing?" Chen asked, strolling into the room.

"PS. I think Pratt made it up," Luka said, laying his cards on the table.

"BS, Luka," Chuni corrected.

"Whatever you call it. Didn't seem to have a point."

Susan gathered up the cards that Pratt had scattered across the table. "Well, now that Pratt's gone, how bout a nice game of 21?" Susan said, shuffling the deck.

____________________________________________________________________________

Abby realized that blowing the horn wasn't going to make traffic move any faster, but it made her feel better. "What's the hold-up?" she yelled at no one in particular. She checked her watch. 9:18. Weaver is going to kill me, she thought as she blasted the horn once again.

After ten more minutes of barely moving, she discovered what the hold-up was. The police had set up a roadblock in the middle of the road, and they were stopping a good percentage of the cars that came through.

Abby rolled her car up through the roadblock, and wasn't surprised when she was stopped by the officer. After all, everything else in her day had gone wrong; why shouldn't this? Rolling down her window, she prayed that this wouldn't take long.

"Could I see your license and registration, ma'am?" the officer asked.

Abby began to fumble through the glove compartment. "This isn't my car," Abby said, feeling like a fool as she knocked nine packets of soy sauce on the floor. Why didn't Carter keep his registration in the glove compartment like a normal person?

"I see. And whose car is it?"

"It's my boyfriend's." After a few more minutes of searching, she confessed, "I can't find the registration."

"I see," the officer repeated. "Would you step out of the car, ma'am?"

Abby groaned inwardly. Just what I don't need, she thought. "Look, I'm a nurse at County General and they probably need me there. It's very busy on Friday nights."

"I see." Abby was beginning to wonder if she was talking to a human or a cleverly designed robot. How many times was he going to say 'I see'? "And who is the owner of this vehicle?"

"John Carter. I'm his girlfriend." Didn't I already say that? Abby realized she sounded like a criminal, repeating herself like she had something to hide.

"I see," repeated the RobotoCop. "Do you have a phone number where I can contact the owner?"

Abby hurriedly scribbled the number to County on a piece of paper. Hopefully, they weren't to busy to answer the phone.

__________________________________________________________

"Could somebody get that?" Jerry asked, switching the phone to his other ear. "Yeah, I know Mom," he said into the receiver.

"Hmm, let's see, who should answer the phone?" Susan asked, finger pressed to the side of her face in thought. "I know! How about the person who's working the desk!"

Jerry frowned at her. "Su-san, I'm talking to my mom! Can't you answer it? You're not doing anything?"

"Nope, sorry, nails are still wet," Susan said, holding up her hands as proof. The phone stopped ringing. "Oh, well, probably wasn't important anyway."

Robotocop hung up the phone. "There was no answer at the number you gave me. Where did you say that was, again?"

"County General Hospital. They're probably really busy," Abby repeated.

"I see. Would you come with me, ma'am?" He led her over to him car, where a burly female cop was waiting.

"Do you have any knives, needles, or anything else that would stick me?" she asked, already patting Abby down.

"Of course not, I'm a nurse! Look, I really need to get to work. You could take me to County, and he could identify the car there."

"I'm afraid we're not at liberty to do that," said Robotocop. "You'll have to wait here in the back of the cruiser until we can contact the owner."

As Abby was hustled into the back of the car, she wondered if her day could possibly get any worse.

_______________________________________________________

"BINGO!" Jerry yelled, his hands in the air.

"Yeah right! You so cheated on that one! He never called B-45!" Susan said hotly, holding up her board as proof.

Jerry shrugged, a broad grin on his face. "No need to be a sore loser, Susan. I won fair and square. Ante up, everybody."

"I'm out," said Carter, emptying the last of the change from his wallet. "Boy, you guys really play cutthroat bingo, don't you?"

"Who ever heard of playing bingo for cash anyway?" Chen asked as her El money was swept into Jerry's pocket. Well, she'd be walking home tonight.

"Aren't you supposed to be working the desk?" Susan asked, still mad that she had lost.

Jerry shrugged once again. "I can see it from here," he said. "Besides, it's not like there's anyone out there."

There was no one there, but the phone was ringing. Of course, because of his excessively loud co-workers, Jerry didn't know that.

"Carter, Chen, you leaving?" Jerry asked, reluctant for any possible sources of money to leave the game. "The fun's just begun!"

Carter shrugged and turned his pockets inside out. "I don't have a choice," he said mournfully.

"I do take checks," Jerry offered. Carter sat back down.

Okay, the name of the game is bingo. Ante is $2.75..."

As the staff members watched their bingo boards, the phone continued to ring.

___________________________________________________________

"It fits the description. Black SUV, not reported stolen yet, driven by a woman. I think we might have her."

The detective nodded hopefully. In his mind, he already imagined the promotion he would get for capturing the woman who had terrorized the city with her mindless, ruthless car thefts. Well, he would show her how the city of Chicago treated ruthless criminals like herself. She had come to him with some cockamamie story about borrowing the car from her boyfriend, but he wasn't buying it. Now, all he needed was confirmation from the owner, and he would put her away for a long, long time.

Meanwhile, Abby sat in the back of the police car, drumming her fingers impatiently. Why was this taking so long? Why hadn't they called County yet? She had been waiting here for almost an hour and had heard nothing from the cops. Weaver was not going to be happy.

As the detective looked at Abby, a smile came to his face. She was his ticket to promotion. He was almost positive that he had caught the notorious Chicago Car-Stealing Gal. Now if he could just get a hold of the owner...

__________________________________________________________

Yosh giggled, which was somewhat out of character for him. "Do you really think he'll fall for it?" he asked.

Malik shrugged. "I dunno, but we can try, can't we?" Yosh nodded eagerly, and Malik plunked fifty cents into the phone.

"County General." Alas, Jerry had finally taken up his rightful post at the desk.

"Could I speak to Dr. Carter?" Malik asked, disguising his voice. Yosh smothered a laugh.

"Hold on a second." And indeed, it didn't take much more than a second, as Carter was, like everyone else, hanging around the desk, doing nothing.

"Dr. Carter," he said, glad to have something to do.

"Dr. Carter, you treated my husband last week, and I just wanted to say how grateful I am," Malik said in a high-pitched voice.

"No problem, ma'am. It's my job," Carter said, settling down on the desk, waiting to be praised. Ah, he loved these kind of phone calls.

"But no, you did so much. If there was any way I could repay you, I would be glad to," said Squeaky-voiced Malik.

"That's really not necessary," Carter said, smiling.

"Oh, but I want to. Maybe you and I could go out for a cup of coffee sometime," Malik said seductively.

"Um, sorry, but I have a girlfriend," Carter stammered, thinking that maybe this wasn't such a great call after all.

"And I have a husband. But he'll be out of town tonight, so maybe you'd like to come over-"

At this, Yosh could contain himself no longer, and burst into laughter. Malik followed suit, and Carter heard his co-workers guffawing into the phone.

"Ha-ha, you fell for that, man!" Malik said, wiping tears of merriment from his eyes.

"You two need something to do," Carter observed, pretending to be pissed. He hung up the phone in their ears so they would think he was really mad. So when Jerry handed him the phone two minutes later, he wasn't surprised. They were probably calling to apologize, and make sure they hadn't incurred the wrath of The Great Carter.

"Is this Doctor Carter?"

"Yes, just like it was two minutes ago."

"Oh, um. Of course. Anyway, this is Detective Johnson of the Chicago PD. We have a woman here in our custody named Abby Lockhart who was driving your car. She claims that you gave it to her." Detective Johnson made it clear what he thought of Abby's claims.

Carter rolled his eyes. Did they really think he was gonna fall for that twice? And couldn't Yosh disguise his voice any better than that? Carter had recognized him the second he picked up the phone.

Well, two could play at this game. "Abby Lockhart? No, sorry, don't know her. In fact, my car was stolen last week." He smiled triumphantly. There! That deflated their little balloon of fun, now didn't it?

Johnson was ecstatic with glee. They had her! He had single-handedly captured a vicious criminal! "Thank you, sir. One of my officers will be in touch. Good day." Click.

Carter smiled with satisfaction as he hung up the phone. Well, obviously the joke was on them. So when Yosh and Malik walked in the door a minute later, Carter wasn't surprised to see the sheepish looks on their faces.

"Sorry about that patient thing, Carter," Yosh said. "We were just joking." The last thing he needed was to be working with a doctor who was mad at him.

Carter nodded. "It's quite alright, Detective Johnson."

Malik and Yosh exchanged a curious glance. Was Carter alright? Was this his twisted idea of revenge?

Seeing the looks on their faces, Carter said, "Oh, come off it. I know that was you, Yosh."

Yosh's face registered confusion. "I didn't make any calls. I just listened to Malik's."

Carter was silent for a moment. "Are you serious?" Yosh nodded. "You didn't just call me and pretend to be a police officer?" Yosh shook his head.

Carter's face paled. "I gotta go," he said, bolting for the door.

______________________________________________________________________

All things considered, Abby was quite forgiving.

"So tell me why again no one could answer the phone while I was locked in the back of a police cruiser like a criminal?"

Well, maybe not quite forgiving.

"I'm really sorry about that, Abby. I never even heard the phone ringing," Carter said as he drove her back towards County. How in the world had he thought that that cop sounded like Yosh? He now realized that they sounded nothing alike.

"Hmm. And there wasn't anyone else at the desk?"

Carter thought about the solitaire, the blackjack, the bingo games. Would telling the truth really be the best option in this situation?

Turning towards Abby with a sincere look on his face, he said, "You know, you wouldn't believe how busy we've been today..."

THE END

A/N: Yes, I can write something besides carby! Who ever knew? Be amazed, be very amazed! And while you're in an amazed frame of mind, leave an amazing review! Right down there! Just hit the button, easy as pie! ~Taz (who, by the way, is an amazing writer)