Altered Expectations
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Chapter 3
Previously on ER - Kerry found out that she couldn't fire Dave, but had to be content with putting him on 2 months unpaid suspension followed by 6 months probation. She ordered Luka to supervise his probation. On his own initiative, Luka told Dave that he was going to make him into a competent doctor.
Dave realized that he was going to find it impossible to make ends meet while on suspension, and considered becoming a human guinea pig for a "Merrontex Laboratories' a drugs company.
Note - Both Sarah and I are well aware of the similarities between segments of this fic and her hilarious fic 'Wired for sound'
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"Oh boy," thought Dave as he heard the door shut behind Luka. "This is going to be interesting."
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A few days later, when the last of the pizza had finally been eaten, Dave found himself sitting in the "Merrontex Laboratories' offices. He fiddled awkwardly at the collar of his shirt, wishing he hadn't bothered dressing up for this interview. But he had figured that it wouldn't hurt to try and make a good impression. This was his second visit to the labs…he'd already spent several hours there the day before being poked and prodded and tested in an effort to see if he was a suitable candidate…or rather *guinea pig* for their research. Those swab-happy Med Techs had taken scrapings from practically every orifice in his body…along with samples of all his bodily fluids…and he meant *all*.
Dave felt his cheeks redden at the memory of a blonde Med Tech, who looked as if she was barely out of high school, handing him a jar and ordering him into the cubicle to produce a 'sample'. He had innocently told her that he'd already 'pissed in the bottle, thank you very much', only to be totally embarrassed when she had explained sweetly to him just exactly what bodily fluids they were looking for *this* time. She had then handed him a copy of 'Playboy' to 'help him out', and had told him that copies of 'Playgirl' and other magazines were available if he felt they'd be more to his taste.
"Mr. Malucci?" Dave looked up at the sound of his name. It was on the tip of his tongue to correct the white-coated woman as to his title, but he restrained himself. His buddy that had given him the heads up about Merrontex had warned him not to say he was a doctor. "Those guys aren't too fond of scientific types," he had said, before knocking back his vodka. "Sort of like those whatchamacallit's in that mini-series…lizards…yeah, that's it. Maybe those guys are the 'Visitors', only twenty years late." Then he had gone onto a long ramble about how *he* wouldn't have caved in the face of alien invaders, no way man. Dave had mentally tuned him out and concentrated on seeing how quickly he could empty his glass. But the advice had stuck, and it seemed to have worked…so far anyway. At least he had been called back for an interview…that had to be a good sign.
Dave followed the woman into her office and sat down opposite her.
"Mr. Malucci," she repeated. "I'm Doctor Norris, and if you agree to participate in the clinical trials we're about to start, then I'll be your supervisor. Is there anything you wish to know before you make a decision?"
Dave's jaw dropped. "You mean I'm in?" he asked.
"Why yes. I thought that was explained when this interview was set up." Dr. Norris frowned. "I'll have to have a word with Admin. This is what happens when you get temps in. Anyway yes, we've reviewed the data from your physical exam and I have to say that we were *most* impressed with your health and fitness." She regarded him appraisingly before continuing; "It's people like you that we really need here at Merrontex. Unfortunately, too many of the people who apply to help with our research are only in it for a quick buck, and are generally found unsuitable for one reason or another. So, in short, if you wish to back out, then now's the time. Now, do you have any questions?"
Whoa, things were moving waaay too fast for Dave's liking. He'd been expecting an interview where he'd have to charm his way into getting included in whatever study they were working on…he hadn't expected to have the job handed to him on a plate…and as for thinking up questions to ask the interviewer…well, that had always been the part of the 'interview technique' classes that he'd hated in School. Usually when faced with *that* question, the only thing he could think of was to ask was the interviewer doing anything that night…and somehow, he didn't think that would be a good idea in *this* case…although he *had* scored a date with the chick who had interviewed him for a summer job while he'd been in college. He liked to think that the only reason he hadn't got the job was because he'd dumped her the next day…and not because he'd been totally unqualified for it. With an effort, Dave pulled himself back to the present and blurted out, "Um, what sort of stuff would you be testing on me?" There was a slight note of nervousness in his voice. While a part of him was relieved that he was 'in'…and that his money worries could be solved…another part of him was feeling smugly pleased that his body had been so well appreciated - he *knew* he'd seen some approving looks from the med techs when he'd taken off his shirt so they could attach heart monitor leads for the treadmill tests - but there was a nagging voice in his mind warning him about the potential dangers of taking untested drugs. He resolutely put the voice out of his mind. If he didn't take this opportunity, it wouldn't matter *how* healthy he was…he was still going to be broke.
"Well, obviously there are confidentiality issues here," replied Dr. Norris. "But I *can* tell you that we want you to be part of a study in relation to 'anti-rejection' drugs."
Dave frowned. "You mean like organ transplants and stuff? But how…" His eyes widened as the implication hit him. "Wait a minute, you're not gonna stuff a kidney or something in me, are you?" He stood abruptly, sending his chair skidding backwards. "No way man, I've got all my organs and they're working just fine, so I don't need any spares."
"Please sit down, Mr. Malucci," said Dr. Norris, patiently. "I assure you that we have absolutely no intention of adding to your current supply of organs."
Reluctantly, Dave pulled up his chair and sat down.
Dr. Norris continued, "All we intend to do is implant a microscopic set of cells into your abdomen. We'll administer the drug, monitor your condition, and see how long the cells remain viable."
"And if the drug doesn't work, what then?" asked Dave, still a little wary.
"If it doesn't work, the cells will die. The reason we'll only be using a microscopic amount is so that they can be absorbed into your body without causing you any ill effects in the event of their demise."
"You sound as if you're *expecting* that to happen…but what if it doesn't?"
"At this stage of testing on human subjects, we only wish to ascertain their short-term viability with the use of this drug. Once the trial run is over, we'll stop administering the drug and harvest the cells for further research." She noticed Dave's mouth open and spoke quickly to forestall the inevitable question, "The harvesting procedure is a minor one, performed under a local anesthetic. There may be some minor discomfort, but that's all."
Dr. Norris waited a few moments to let him absorb this before continuing, "It's quite possible that the drug will fail to work. Frankly, at this stage, we'll be happy with a four-week survival period. However, you *will* be paid for the full three months of the trials regardless of the outcome."
Dave's face fell at the mention of the time frame. "Oh," he said, gloomily. "I didn't think it'd be that long a trial. I mean, I've got a job to go to in two months time, and I thought that this gig would be shorter than that."
"Oh we only require you to be resident here for the first four weeks," explained Dr. Norris. "But a part of our research protocol requires that the tests take place under normal working and living conditions. Where are you going to be working?"
"County General," replied Dave, without thinking. He cursed under his breath as he saw Dr. Norris's smile fade. "I'm a desk clerk there," he added hastily, breathing a sigh of relief as he saw the smile return. Boy, that was close…he just hoped she wouldn't ask him anything about his 'duties' as a desk clerk. Still, it should be easy enough to bluff his way through any questions…after all, what did Frank and Randi do except sit on their butts answering phones all day, right? A half smile came to Dave's lips at the thought of Randi's butt. Mmm, now that was worth looking at all day, in his opinion. Pity he'd only had one night to…
"Mr. Malucci?" Dr. Norris's voice cut into Dave's memories of that 'one night'. He brought himself back to the present, but made a mental note to call Randi again and see if she was up for a rerun.
"Uh yeah?" said Dave, a little embarrassed as he realized what effect the memories of Randi was having on a certain part of his anatomy. He crossed his legs in an effort to hide it, and tried to muster up an innocent expression, hoping it would work better on Dr. Norris than it had on his third grade teacher when he had tried to deny putting the frog in her desk.
"You will of course be subject to certain restrictions while participating in this study."
"Restrictions?"
"Dietary for one. A healthy eating regimen will have to be followed. We'll supply you with Vitamin supplements. Also you will not be allowed to smoke…" Fine thought Dave, just as well I quit in high school.
"Or drink." Uh-oh, thought Dave, three months sober…well, he'd had to do it before when cash had been *really* low…he could manage it.
"Or engage in sexual intercourse..."
"What?" yelped Dave. "Um, I mean, I see." He tried to compose himself, but inwardly he was groaning. Oh man, this was going to be one heck of a long three months. But wait…she'd only said 'sexual *intercourse*'…there were plenty of other forms of sex, and luckily enough, he was pretty damn good at all of them.
"Or indeed any forms of sexual contact."
Dave moaned silently. This was going to be torture.
"So, are you willing to do this?"
Dave considered the prospect of three months without any drinking or sex…then he considered the prospect of two months without food. It wasn't an easy choice, but finally he smiled at Dr. Norris and said, "Where do I sign?"
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To be continued
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Chapter 3
Previously on ER - Kerry found out that she couldn't fire Dave, but had to be content with putting him on 2 months unpaid suspension followed by 6 months probation. She ordered Luka to supervise his probation. On his own initiative, Luka told Dave that he was going to make him into a competent doctor.
Dave realized that he was going to find it impossible to make ends meet while on suspension, and considered becoming a human guinea pig for a "Merrontex Laboratories' a drugs company.
Note - Both Sarah and I are well aware of the similarities between segments of this fic and her hilarious fic 'Wired for sound'
-------------------------
"Oh boy," thought Dave as he heard the door shut behind Luka. "This is going to be interesting."
-------------------------
A few days later, when the last of the pizza had finally been eaten, Dave found himself sitting in the "Merrontex Laboratories' offices. He fiddled awkwardly at the collar of his shirt, wishing he hadn't bothered dressing up for this interview. But he had figured that it wouldn't hurt to try and make a good impression. This was his second visit to the labs…he'd already spent several hours there the day before being poked and prodded and tested in an effort to see if he was a suitable candidate…or rather *guinea pig* for their research. Those swab-happy Med Techs had taken scrapings from practically every orifice in his body…along with samples of all his bodily fluids…and he meant *all*.
Dave felt his cheeks redden at the memory of a blonde Med Tech, who looked as if she was barely out of high school, handing him a jar and ordering him into the cubicle to produce a 'sample'. He had innocently told her that he'd already 'pissed in the bottle, thank you very much', only to be totally embarrassed when she had explained sweetly to him just exactly what bodily fluids they were looking for *this* time. She had then handed him a copy of 'Playboy' to 'help him out', and had told him that copies of 'Playgirl' and other magazines were available if he felt they'd be more to his taste.
"Mr. Malucci?" Dave looked up at the sound of his name. It was on the tip of his tongue to correct the white-coated woman as to his title, but he restrained himself. His buddy that had given him the heads up about Merrontex had warned him not to say he was a doctor. "Those guys aren't too fond of scientific types," he had said, before knocking back his vodka. "Sort of like those whatchamacallit's in that mini-series…lizards…yeah, that's it. Maybe those guys are the 'Visitors', only twenty years late." Then he had gone onto a long ramble about how *he* wouldn't have caved in the face of alien invaders, no way man. Dave had mentally tuned him out and concentrated on seeing how quickly he could empty his glass. But the advice had stuck, and it seemed to have worked…so far anyway. At least he had been called back for an interview…that had to be a good sign.
Dave followed the woman into her office and sat down opposite her.
"Mr. Malucci," she repeated. "I'm Doctor Norris, and if you agree to participate in the clinical trials we're about to start, then I'll be your supervisor. Is there anything you wish to know before you make a decision?"
Dave's jaw dropped. "You mean I'm in?" he asked.
"Why yes. I thought that was explained when this interview was set up." Dr. Norris frowned. "I'll have to have a word with Admin. This is what happens when you get temps in. Anyway yes, we've reviewed the data from your physical exam and I have to say that we were *most* impressed with your health and fitness." She regarded him appraisingly before continuing; "It's people like you that we really need here at Merrontex. Unfortunately, too many of the people who apply to help with our research are only in it for a quick buck, and are generally found unsuitable for one reason or another. So, in short, if you wish to back out, then now's the time. Now, do you have any questions?"
Whoa, things were moving waaay too fast for Dave's liking. He'd been expecting an interview where he'd have to charm his way into getting included in whatever study they were working on…he hadn't expected to have the job handed to him on a plate…and as for thinking up questions to ask the interviewer…well, that had always been the part of the 'interview technique' classes that he'd hated in School. Usually when faced with *that* question, the only thing he could think of was to ask was the interviewer doing anything that night…and somehow, he didn't think that would be a good idea in *this* case…although he *had* scored a date with the chick who had interviewed him for a summer job while he'd been in college. He liked to think that the only reason he hadn't got the job was because he'd dumped her the next day…and not because he'd been totally unqualified for it. With an effort, Dave pulled himself back to the present and blurted out, "Um, what sort of stuff would you be testing on me?" There was a slight note of nervousness in his voice. While a part of him was relieved that he was 'in'…and that his money worries could be solved…another part of him was feeling smugly pleased that his body had been so well appreciated - he *knew* he'd seen some approving looks from the med techs when he'd taken off his shirt so they could attach heart monitor leads for the treadmill tests - but there was a nagging voice in his mind warning him about the potential dangers of taking untested drugs. He resolutely put the voice out of his mind. If he didn't take this opportunity, it wouldn't matter *how* healthy he was…he was still going to be broke.
"Well, obviously there are confidentiality issues here," replied Dr. Norris. "But I *can* tell you that we want you to be part of a study in relation to 'anti-rejection' drugs."
Dave frowned. "You mean like organ transplants and stuff? But how…" His eyes widened as the implication hit him. "Wait a minute, you're not gonna stuff a kidney or something in me, are you?" He stood abruptly, sending his chair skidding backwards. "No way man, I've got all my organs and they're working just fine, so I don't need any spares."
"Please sit down, Mr. Malucci," said Dr. Norris, patiently. "I assure you that we have absolutely no intention of adding to your current supply of organs."
Reluctantly, Dave pulled up his chair and sat down.
Dr. Norris continued, "All we intend to do is implant a microscopic set of cells into your abdomen. We'll administer the drug, monitor your condition, and see how long the cells remain viable."
"And if the drug doesn't work, what then?" asked Dave, still a little wary.
"If it doesn't work, the cells will die. The reason we'll only be using a microscopic amount is so that they can be absorbed into your body without causing you any ill effects in the event of their demise."
"You sound as if you're *expecting* that to happen…but what if it doesn't?"
"At this stage of testing on human subjects, we only wish to ascertain their short-term viability with the use of this drug. Once the trial run is over, we'll stop administering the drug and harvest the cells for further research." She noticed Dave's mouth open and spoke quickly to forestall the inevitable question, "The harvesting procedure is a minor one, performed under a local anesthetic. There may be some minor discomfort, but that's all."
Dr. Norris waited a few moments to let him absorb this before continuing, "It's quite possible that the drug will fail to work. Frankly, at this stage, we'll be happy with a four-week survival period. However, you *will* be paid for the full three months of the trials regardless of the outcome."
Dave's face fell at the mention of the time frame. "Oh," he said, gloomily. "I didn't think it'd be that long a trial. I mean, I've got a job to go to in two months time, and I thought that this gig would be shorter than that."
"Oh we only require you to be resident here for the first four weeks," explained Dr. Norris. "But a part of our research protocol requires that the tests take place under normal working and living conditions. Where are you going to be working?"
"County General," replied Dave, without thinking. He cursed under his breath as he saw Dr. Norris's smile fade. "I'm a desk clerk there," he added hastily, breathing a sigh of relief as he saw the smile return. Boy, that was close…he just hoped she wouldn't ask him anything about his 'duties' as a desk clerk. Still, it should be easy enough to bluff his way through any questions…after all, what did Frank and Randi do except sit on their butts answering phones all day, right? A half smile came to Dave's lips at the thought of Randi's butt. Mmm, now that was worth looking at all day, in his opinion. Pity he'd only had one night to…
"Mr. Malucci?" Dr. Norris's voice cut into Dave's memories of that 'one night'. He brought himself back to the present, but made a mental note to call Randi again and see if she was up for a rerun.
"Uh yeah?" said Dave, a little embarrassed as he realized what effect the memories of Randi was having on a certain part of his anatomy. He crossed his legs in an effort to hide it, and tried to muster up an innocent expression, hoping it would work better on Dr. Norris than it had on his third grade teacher when he had tried to deny putting the frog in her desk.
"You will of course be subject to certain restrictions while participating in this study."
"Restrictions?"
"Dietary for one. A healthy eating regimen will have to be followed. We'll supply you with Vitamin supplements. Also you will not be allowed to smoke…" Fine thought Dave, just as well I quit in high school.
"Or drink." Uh-oh, thought Dave, three months sober…well, he'd had to do it before when cash had been *really* low…he could manage it.
"Or engage in sexual intercourse..."
"What?" yelped Dave. "Um, I mean, I see." He tried to compose himself, but inwardly he was groaning. Oh man, this was going to be one heck of a long three months. But wait…she'd only said 'sexual *intercourse*'…there were plenty of other forms of sex, and luckily enough, he was pretty damn good at all of them.
"Or indeed any forms of sexual contact."
Dave moaned silently. This was going to be torture.
"So, are you willing to do this?"
Dave considered the prospect of three months without any drinking or sex…then he considered the prospect of two months without food. It wasn't an easy choice, but finally he smiled at Dr. Norris and said, "Where do I sign?"
--------------------------------
To be continued