AN: A little Stuart-centric Sirens fic…
There are two types of people that work for the ambulance service; those for whom treating patients isn't enough, they need to be one themselves; as often as possible; not happy vicariously living the dream through those they treat, but needing the attention themselves. And then there are the rest of us. Those who would rather bleed-out under a bus; those who would crawl out of an RTC, one limb missing, insisting it is only a scratch, they'll walk it off; will protest until they are literally blue in the face that it's only indigestion; anything, anything rather than have an ambulance called for them.
For the average ambulance worker there is nothing more humiliating than needing treatment from one of the bastards we're forced to share a station with. Well, there is one thing…
"Stop fucking laughing and do something useful."
"The only useful thing I can do for you is call an ambulance."
"Touch that phone Maxine and I'll…"
"You'll what Stuart? Beat me to death with a paint roller?"
The glare Stuart gave her from his position on the floor caused a renewed smirk from her and she looked back over to the fallen step ladder and the upturned paint tray that had splattered its contents on the floor.
"Do you really have nothing better to do with a day off than repaint your ceiling?"
"It's been a slow week. When you're done taking the piss could you get me some painkillers and at least help me up please."
"You're going nowhere mate. You're knee's dislocated."
"Excuse me? Who's the medic here? Have you had years of training and on-the-road experience?"
"No, but even a stupid plod like me knows that knees aren't supposed to bend that way. Now shut up, I'm calling you an ambulance."
"I don't need an ambulance," Stuart groused, "just help me up, get me on the sofa and I'll sort myself out."
"You cannot sort that out. I'm getting you some help." Maxine pulled her phone from her pocket and thumbed the numbers. "Hello, ambulance please."
Stuart rolled his eyes back in his head and dropped his top half back to the floor. The movement jarred his leg and with a yelp he leant forwards to grab at his knee. Maxine shook her head at him and continued on her phone call. Finishing, she left the room, opened the front door so it was ready and came back to stand over him again.
"There, ambulance on the way; they'll be here any minute." Stuart was still glaring at her. "Really, what is your problem?" she continued.
"You know this is where our shifts split don't you? You do realise who is still on duty today?"
Maxine's face was split with another grin as the information sank in. "Oh, not really?"
"Oh, yes, really," came a Scottish accent at the door, "and it's about to get better."
Stuart remained glowering from the floor as Ashley was followed into the room by a grinning Rashid.
"Hello, boss," he said cheerfully.
"Oh great," muttered Stuart darkly, "I'm about to become the first man to die from a dislocated knee."