"He's AB negative. We're low on his type."
Connie opened the curtain to reveal Brendan, pacing the small square of flooring within the cubicle. Dr Knight and Robyn were conferring with Dr Hardy.
"Are we having a staff meeting in here that I wasn't informed about?"
She asked, looking from Ethan to Cal who flushed and lowered his chin.
"Uh, no..."
Ethan adjusted his glasses.
"Mr Taylor has been taken to theatre to repair a rupture in his lung...but it appears there may be some delay as we're waiting for bloods to be transferred."
He explained, glancing somewhat nervously to Brendan. He was taller than she remembered, and his body was stiff and ominous as he paced. He threw up his hands at Ethan's words.
"I'm O negative. Well that's the universal donor right?"
He stopped his pacing and placed his hands on his hips.
"Well, yes that's true, but.."
Ethan glanced hesitating to Connie who raised her eyebrows, hands placed firmly on her hips, Tristan standing close behind her.
"Mr Kinney, are you homosexual?"
He asked, a blotch of pink showing at the V of skin that his shirt revealed. He pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose again, flustered.
"What's that got to do with anything?!"
Brendan asked, frowning, his lip still sore from being sutured.
"You see the thing is, we can't allow you to donate your blood because of the risk of HIV..."
" I don't have HIV."
Brendan cut in sharply.
"It doesn't matter I'm afraid, It's an FDA regulation. You are considered to be too high of a risk."
Ethan stammered. Brendan laughed.
"Besides, it would need to go through all sorts of tests..screenings...it would be quicker just to wait..."
He added, lowering his voice, all to aware that Connie stood watching him.
"And what about all those straight studs and bitches who fuck around and don't use protection? I mean you take their blood, right?"
Brendan hissed, spitting blood as he spoke, his lip weeping again.
"Mr Kinney, I'd advise you to calm down or I will have to call security."
Connie reached out to him but he shook his arm free.
"I don't give a shit! Take my blood mother fucker!"
As he raised his voice to Ethan, Tristan side-stepped Connie.
"Brendan."
He spoke quietly, taking Brendan by surprise.
"Sit."
He said simply, guiding Brendan back to the bed, pushing him gently back onto it so that the bed pressed into the back of his knees causing him to sit.
"Dr Hardy, Dr Knight, nurse Miller."
Connie looked to the three who stood meekly in a row against the curtain.
"Dr Cutler and I will take over from here."
She stepped away from the gap in the curtain so that they could file out back onto the ward.
"And next time, perhaps you could treat a patient each. I'm sure you can manage without holding each others hands."
She said, maintaining eye contact with Tristan as they left, filing past her.
Tristan sucked in his cheeks, arching an eyebrow at her as he stifled a smile.
She waited until the curtain was drawn behind her to step forward.
"Chin up."
She instructed, pulling a pair of gloves from the box on the side and slipping them onto her hands before inspecting the newly open cut at his lip. Gone were the days of cardiothorascis...
"I'll have to stitch it again."
She murmured, stepping back.
"Perhaps be a little more gentle with it next time."
She added, moving over to the table of various instruments to thread the needle.
Tristan busied himself with cleaning the blood away with antiseptic. Brendan winced as the cool cotton wool touched his mouth.
"No kissing, no yawning...no blow-jobs..."
He spoke in a hushed voice as he dabbed at the blood. Brendan smirked.
"Not until this has healed."
He added, tossing the used cotton wool into the bin.
"You can talk."
Brendan spoke stiffly, trying to keep his mouth still as Tristan raised a pair of tweezers to his lip to remove the broken stitches.
"Hmm?"
Tristan murmured, narrowing his eyes to see the loose threads.
"Don't tell me you just prefer the same shade of lip stick as Snow White over there?"
Brendan tried not to smile, noting the smudge of lipstick on Tristan's lip and the tell-tale twitch of his lips.
Connie glanced up, threading the needle against the light.
"I'm more of the wicked witch. Look up."
She instructed, tilting his chin back again as Tristan moved to the side out of her way.
"It's certainly been a while since I've touched someone that attractive..."
Tristan stifled an amused smile as Connie glanced up quickly, her eyes threatening.
Brendan leant forward.
"I don't mind you touching my arm if you want? Make it two?"
He offered.
"It's not quite the same..."
Tristan smiled, watching Connie stiffen.
"So, Lord of the Dance."
Brendan nudged Tristan with the toe of his shoe.
"Is she 'the one'?"
He asked, wincing again as Connie numbed the area she intended to stitch.
Tristan smiled, his arms folded about his chest.
"What would you know about the one, hmm?"
He asked, deliberately avoiding the question.
Connie stepped back briefly to place the numbing gel back on the trolley, giving Brendan a few seconds before it began to take effect.
"I've had plenty of them..."
He muttered, his lip beginning to lose feeling.
"How will this look tonight? I had plans to go to the white party..."
He asked, loosing his train of thought and boarding another.
Tristan peered at him.
"I wouldn't."
He said simply. Brendan raised an eyebrow, his solid brown eyes slipping in his direction as Connie neared him with the needle.
"You won't feel a thing. Hold still please."
She crouched slightly to be able to see what she was doing.
"So what do you horny hetero's get up to on your nights out nowadays?"
He spoke slowly through the corner of his mouth, stopping upon noticing the purse of Connie's lips.
Tristan let the toe of his boot idly touch against the tip of Connie's shoe as she sewed.
"We're going to a party. A Halloween party."
He said, letting his toe wander up to Connie's ankle. Brendan smirked again and grunted as Connie pricked him.
"Hold still."
She breathed.
"You're welcome to come too. You won't have to worry about a costume..."
Tristan smiled again and Connie glanced up just in time to see the pink tip of his tongue between his teeth. She felt her cheeks glow as she remembered just moments before his tongue had been in her mouth. He caught her eye, tilting his head, frowning slightly, questioning her slightly startled expression.
"Fuck off..."
Brendan hissed.
Connie looked away, finishing the neat row of stitches in one fluid movement.
"All done."
She breathed, standing up straight and snipping off the thread close to the last knot.
"I'd have to be chemically depended just to show up. I'll be drunk, I'll be bored - not to mention better looking than most people there. I'll offend all the women, I'll heckle the host, dance on the table and inevitably fuck every good looking guy - gay, straight or undecided - in the place. Finally, I'll pass out - naked - bitching about the cheap booze. You'll lose your dignity, your friends and you'll have to carry me home..."
Brendan drawled, fingers pressed to his lip.
"I get the idea..."
Tristan drew his foot back as Connie moved to throw away the gloves she wore.
"Have fun though!"
Brendan added, pushing his tongue against his lip to feel the stitches from the inside.
"I'm sure we will..."
Tristan murmured, watching Connie tidy away the various pieces of equipment that she had used.
"I'm sure we will..."
Tomorrow: The party, a fight, a confession, an ending and a beginning...xxx (And also much more Max!)