My humblest gratitude to mc101180 for her wonderful beta work.

Let the games begin.


Chapter 3

I am relieved to find out I will be working with the "real" Dr. Newton in the OR for the rest of the week. He is a sharp contrast to the illustrious Dr. Cullen in almost every aspect. He has gentle blue eyes, a baby face, and over-gelled, short blond hair that looks so stiff it reminds me a bit of the Astro Turf in my grandmother's sunroom. He is significantly shorter, only a few inches taller than my 5'4" frame. And he certainly talks a hell of a lot more, his favorite topic of conversation seeming to be himself. By the end of the morning, I feel like I have been given a full briefing on his credentials. But it makes for a lighter atmosphere, and I feel much more at ease.

I also observe that Dr. Newton lacks the precision and finesse that Dr. Cullen has in surgery. He's noticeably messier, tends to struggle a bit at times during procedures, and it makes me realize how skilled a surgeon Dr. Cullen actually is.

The last case of the morning closes up, and I am now comfortable in the routine and help clean up the patient and transfer her to the holding room. I text Alice to see if she's free to get some lunch, and I look up to see Dr. Newton approaching me.

"Hey, Bella. Tyler and I are heading down to the cafeteria to get some lunch. You're welcome to join us." He gives me a boyish smile and looks almost hopeful. I get a small twinge of discomfort at his overt friendliness but shrug it off.

"Oh, thanks, but I'm supposed to meet someone," I answer, and he looks disappointed. I offer a small apologetic smile. "Maybe some other time?"

He nods and shrugs. "No problem. I'll see you back here at 1:00p.m. then."

Alice is already in the hospital cafeteria, sitting with Jasper. They are both leaning toward each other, smiling. She strokes the back of her rich, almost-black hair where her chic bob meets her neck, and for a moment, I almost feel guilty for intruding. I plop myself down next to Alice.

"So, Jasper," I ask with a mischievous grin, "How's Cooch Clinic treating you?"

He gives me a brief incredulous look, and then snickers. "Oh, I think I prefer to think of it as Cooter College."

Alice giggles. "How about Hoo-ha Hospital?"

"Poon Platoon?" I counter.

"Oooh, good one! How does Beaver Brigade—"

"Okay, okay, enough!" Jasper begs, laughing. "Are you two always this bad?"

I smirk and glance sideways at Alice. "Oh, this is nothing. Add tequila to the mix and watch things really start to get interesting." She kicks me under the table. Jasper shoots her a curious and definitely intrigued look. "But seriously, how is the clinic?"

Jasper leans back in his chair and rubs his hand over the back of his neck. I'll bet any amount of money Alice is checking out his biceps.

"Eh, let's just say I'm looking forward to the surgery part of the rotation, and let's leave it at that."

I nod slowly, understanding fully. I think obstetrics will be really interesting, but the gynecology aspect didn't hold much interest for me, either. Pap smears, STDs, and yeast infections, oh my.

I worked through my essentially tasteless chicken Caesar salad and made a mental note to consider bringing food from home with me. Some hospitals have decent food, but unfortunately Queens General was definitely not one of them. I share a few of my chocolates with Alice and Jasper and then head back to the OR.

XXX

Wednesday morning arrives, if you can really call it morning because it's still so damn dark, and I prepare for my first overnight call. I pack up some toiletries, a change of underwear, some leftovers from last night's dinner, and my daily chocolate rations. I'm running a little later than planned, and I'm cranky because I realize I won't have time to get my bagel fix today. Alice is still at the hospital, since she was on call yesterday, and I wonder how her night went. The apartment felt strange and empty without her, and I missed having her around to nag me in the morning. It made me realize how much of a replacement for family she had become, since my parents lived 3 time zones away on the other side of the country.

I meet up with Alice for morning rounds on 3 North. She looks a little tired, but not as bad as I expect. Dr. Baker isn't on the floor yet, so I ask how her night went.

Her pretty hazel eyes light up. "It wasn't too bad, actually. I saw two deliveries and only got woken up once for an emergency C-section around 1:30a.m. But I'm definitely glad I get to leave after Grand Rounds today."

Dr. Baker arrives and asks where Jasper is. I look briefly over at Alice, and we both shake our heads. A scowl crosses his features, and he looks over our heads, just as I hear hurried footsteps behind me. Jasper joins us with an apprehensive look on his face and apologizes for being late. Dr. Baker glares at him callously and hands each of us a list of patients to round on. He reminds us about Grand Rounds at 8:00a.m and then turns to Jasper.

"Tardiness is unacceptable, Mr. Whitlock. I trust this will be an isolated incident and will not need to be addressed again." He turns and leaves before Jasper can reply.

Alice touches his arm and offers him a sympathetic smile. He takes a deep breath and shrugs it off with a grin.

"What a weenie," I mutter under my breath, and I no longer feel sorry for myself for having to skip my bagel.

XXX

I finish my last progress note and head over to the auditorium for Grand Rounds. I see Jasper sitting in the back of the room and take a seat next to him. Alice joins us shortly thereafter.

The lecture is on Polycystic Ovary Syndrome, and the speaker has a flat affect and a droning voice. I find myself struggling to stay awake, still not used to the unholy early hours. My eyes start to wander around the room and freeze when they spot a familiar head of deliciously messy bronze locks a few rows ahead.

I bite my lip and look over at Alice, who's doing the head bob thing as she slowly loses the battle to stay conscious. My eyes then dart back to Dr. GQ and take the opportunity to check him out properly and unfettered.

He has beautiful angular features with a striking sharp jaw line, which is clean-shaven today. He is classically handsome, and everything about him makes my girly bits want to climb to the top of a mountain and break into song.

If I could have a police composite drawn of my idea of the perfect man, it would be him.

I'm deeply entrenched in an inner debate over which is more lickable—scruffy hot jaw line or smooth hot jaw line, when I suddenly feel the sensation of being watched. I then realize that Alice is studying me with perceptive interest. She leans in and whispers, "It seems you forgot to mention that Dr. Jackass was hot as Hell."

Damnit. Here I was thinking I was so stealth and all, and I got busted ogling.

I feign indifference. "Minor detail. Doesn't make him any less of a jackass."

Alice snorts and calls my bluff. "Minor detail, my ass. You were looking at him like he was a dark chocolate fountain and you wanted to go for a dive."

Damn Alice.

"Mmmmm…dark chocolate," I whisper in my best Homer Simpson imitation. "Want one?" I reach into my pocket and pull out a Hershey's Special Dark mini.

She raises her eyebrows and holds up two fingers. I scowl at her and hand them over. Greedy little biotch. She savors her candy with a satisfied smirk on her face, and even though we both divert our attention back to the lecture, I know she smells blood and I haven't heard the last of this.

We leave the auditorium after rounds finish, and Alice talks a bit more about her night on call. She seems to really enjoy working with Dr. McCarty, and he sounds like a real character. According to her, he's like working with an overgrown twelve-year-old.

"Oh, and for the record, Edward actually seems like a pretty decent guy."

I have no idea what she's talking about. "Edward who?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. You know him as Dr. Jackass. Or maybe you've changed that to Dr. Fuck-Me-Please considering the way you were checking him out back there."

I just roll my eyes. "Actually, I'm becoming a bit partial to Dr. Hemostat-Stuck-Up-My-Ass," I retort. "So, I take it you've met him?"

She nods. "He came by to see McCarty this morning. He just seemed very nice."

For some strange reason, this irritates me. I want her to elaborate more, but she doesn't. And of course I can't ask her for more details about him, since that will just add more fuel to the fire. So I let it go and try to ignore the pang of jealousy that simmers just below the surface.

XXX

I'm pretty psyched because since Tyler isn't in today, Dr. Newton lets me scrub in. It is significantly more interesting being able to do more than just observe. He even lets me close one of the laparoscopy incisions on the last case, and I'm thrilled to get a chance to suture. My stitches don't look anywhere near as pretty as Dr. Cullen's did, but I'm really hoping to get more practice this rotation.

By the end of the day I'm completely famished, and all I can focus on is dinner. I walk into the residents' lounge, and it's empty. I take my leftovers out of my black canvas messenger bag and pop them in the microwave. The aroma hits me as it heats up, and I can feel my mouth water.

Just as I'm sitting down at the large rectangle faux wood table with my spaghetti, I hear someone walk in. I look up and see that it's Dr. Cullen. I immediately feel my heart rate speed up, and I berate myself for being such a stupid girl.

He sits down across from me with a brown paper bag and takes out what looks like a deli sandwich and a bottle of cola. He hasn't even acknowledged me yet, so I try to focus my attention on my dinner and ignore how awkward I suddenly feel eating spaghetti in front of him.

"Where is that from?" He takes me by surprise as I am trying to eat as neatly as possible. I look up and see that he is eyeing my food with keen interest. I lick my lips nervously and pray that I don't have sauce all over them. His gaze is now fixed on my mouth, so I quickly pick up a napkin to wipe it clean.

He continues to look at me expectantly, and I realize my brain has failed me yet again. Great. He must think I'm mentally challenged at this point. Why does this man fluster me like this?

"I just brought it from home," I say with a shrug.

He looks almost disappointed and proceeds to eat his sandwich. We eat in silence for a few minutes, until I realize he keeps looking at my food. It's beginning to unnerve me. I finally snap.

"Didn't your mother teach you that it's rude to stare at other people's food?"

He looks up at me, wide-eyed for a split second. Then an unexpected lopsided grin breaks out across his beautiful lips, and I'm momentarily dumbstruck at how strikingly handsome he looks. I can't help but smile in response and look away quickly since I can't look at him for very long without my stomach doing flips.

"Yes, I believe my mother may have said something about that. My sincerest apologies," he replies with an almost roguish smirk.

I bite my lip and realize that I have been continuously twirling the same few spaghetti strands around my fork. If I thought Dr. Jackass was difficult to deal with, Dr. Charming was even worse.

"But, in my defense, that does look a whole lot more appealing than my sandwich." He adds, nodding toward my food. "And it smells delicious."

I blush at the compliment. "Thanks. The sauce is really easy to make, so I have it quite often."

He raises his eyebrows. "You made that?"

I nod, wondering why he looks so surprised. "Like I said, it's easy to make. And it's not like I want to spend my student loans on takeout all the time. So I cook a lot."

He looks almost wistful, and I actually feel bad. "I take it you don't cook very often." I add.

"I don't cook, period."

I nod thoughtfully and turn my attention back to my dinner. I'm sure he doesn't have time to cook with his schedule. I idly wonder when the last time he had a home-cooked meal was. Then I wonder if he has a girlfriend who cooks for him. Then I get annoyed with myself for letting my mind even go there. Goddamnit. I need some sugar.

I rifle through my pocket and take out one of my last chocolates. Not wanting to be rude, I decide to be nice and offer him one. His eyes brighten, and he nods, so I hand him a Krackel bar.

He looks at it, and then looks at my dark chocolate. Nodding toward it, he asks, "Do you have any more of those?"

"What, you don't want it? That's all right. I can take it back…" I say, extending my palm out.

"No, I didn't say that." He pulls his hand away protectively. "I'm just asking if you have any more dark chocolate."

I shake my head. "Nope. Sorry," I say with a shrug.

Clearly undeterred, he furrows his brow. "Really? You didn't even look."

I narrow my eyes at him. Unappreciative little shit. Who the hell does he think he is? "I think I know what is or isn't in my pocket. And I believe they say beggars can't be choosers."

He leans on the table toward me and raises his eyebrows at me. "Wanna trade?"

I lean back, folding my arms across my chest. "Nope," I say, enunciating the P at the end, and quirk my eyebrow in challenge. "And even if I had more, you wouldn't be getting any."

His lips twitch, trying to hold back a smile. "That's not very nice," he retorts. "Didn't your mother teach you that sharing is caring?"

I bite the inside of my lip and feel my nostrils flare. Part of me wants to kick him in the shin, and another part of me wants to straddle him and have my wicked way with him.

Stupid ovaries.

"My mother taught me lots of things. Including manners. And for the record, I do not give my dark chocolate to just anyone. And you don't deserve."

His face is a mask of mock indignation. "I'm not sure, but I think I may be offended."

"Oh, I think you can be sure."

That fuckhot lopsided grin makes its appearance again. "Well then, please enlighten me. How exactly does someone achieve deserving status in your book?"

"You have to earn dark chocolate status, Dr. Cullen. And at this point, you barely make Krackle status."

He tilts his head to the side and rubs his chin. "Oh really? So you're telling me there is a hierarchy in chocolate status? How exactly does that work, then?"

I consider it for a moment. "Well, Krackel is pretty much entry level. Mr. Goodbar would be the next level, then milk chocolate. You have to be pretty darn special to be worthy of dark chocolate status."

"I see. You seem to have this pretty well thought out." He leans back in his chair and folds his arms across his chest. It does not escape my attention that those arms are sinewy and muscular, but by no means bulky.

"Oh, I take my chocolate very seriously," I reply and pop a piece of the candy into my mouth. I luxuriate in the deep rich flavor as it melts on my tongue. Dr. Wiseass is watching in rapt fascination. Suddenly, his pager goes off, and it actually makes him jump slightly. I fight back a smug grin as he looks at the number.

"Seen any deliveries yet, Swan?" he asks as he stands up and clears away the remains of his dinner.

I shake my head. Oh boy, am I ready for this? Well, ready or not, it's show time.


A/N: SM owns Twilight.

FYI, a hemostat is a type of surgical clamp.

And if there are any of you out there who aren't familiar with Krackel bars or Mr. Goodbar, all I can say is, I'm so, so sorry. You're missing out.