Disclaimer: All these guys don't belong to me, but to another genius! ;-)
I know that the idea is not really an original, I just couldn't resist! Hope you like it though. Oh, and: Thanks for encouraging me writing in English! Please R/R :-)
"Good morning LA, this is Timm Jefferson, your host and I hope you've already filled up your swimmimg pools 'cause this is gonna be our new hottest day of the year..."
Brandon Dawn turned off the radio as he entered the room. Probably the nurses had left it on. Now the room was perfectly prepared for the meeting, the water glasses had been set onto the large table and the windows were wide open on this warm day of July.
Brandon sighed. It was only nine o'clock gone and already 86 Fahrenheit. The air flickered between the high towers of downtown LA, flickered over the highways, flickered over the pacific.
Brandon took off his jacket, took place at the edge of the long Mahagoni table and looked through his papers one more time. What a great day for the Community General's year budget conference! Maybe he should... But no, if he cancelled it now, he would never set a new date for it, that was for sure. The hospital administrator sighed again, but this time not because of the heat.
He wasn't exactly looking forward to that meeting. Normally the doctors, who didn't like each other, were just kept apart in the big building of the CGH, but here they met every year and who assumed that they would let go a chance to annoy each other was badly wrong.
Fed up with the stress and the prosprects of a budget shortening anyway, the medics seemed to be almost happy about the possibility to vent their bad tempers on some of their colleagues. If you added up all this to the incredible heat today, the disaster would be even more awful that usually.
The door swung open. Brandon Dawn looked up, having just been pulled out of the state of panic that was impending to swallow him. This wasn't gonna be fun. To his relief he saw Dr. Mark Sloan, Head of the Internal Medicine, and Dr. Amanda Bentley, Head of the Pathology, walking in and smiling a 'hello' at him. They were both very nice, warm and good-natured. He liked them.
Right behind them was Dr. Jen Andrews, an excellent surgeon and also new Chief of the laboratory of the CGH. She was having a heated, but friendly discussion with Dr. Ron Perkins, Head of the Pediatric, who wore already a multi-coloured Hawaii shirt 'cause he was up to leave for his holidays after the conference.
They were talking about the difference between American football and the 'normal' football and obviously having fun.
"I just don't see why you call a game 'football' which consists of huntin' an egg and beatin' up each other...", said the young girl while she settled next to the good-looking pediatrican, who replied: "Women and sports...", before the others insisted to start with the files.
Brandon felt delighted now. Maybe this wouldn't be that terrible at all. But then he spotted an empty chair, the one next to Mark Sloan and his heart sank. He knew that most of the people in this room couldn't bear much anyway, and inpunctuality was something like a capital offence. He pitied the poor guy who didn't arrive in time.
Shaking the thought of him out of his mind, Brandon began the conference. He wasn't able to prevent the trouble anyway.
The first ten minutes were almost amazingly peaceful until the door was flung open and some one rushed in. The young man dressed in scrubs panted a weak excuse before he slumped into his chair. Desperately looking for a glass of water, the Head of the ER, Dr. Jesse Travis, finally found that there wasn't one for him. His place had been forgotten.
Mark saw the exhaustion in his friend's face. As he knew the ER was busy at the moment, full of sun-burned and heat-shocked people, mostly tourists. Jesse had helped Alex and the other interns, he wasn't the kind of man who let others work for himself.
Quietly Mark pushed his glass of water over to Jesse and earned a very grateful glance from his friend. Jesse emptied the glass with one deep gulp.
"Maybe we should start a collection and buy a wristwatch for Dr. Travis!" No one could miss thewords of Dr. Phillip Gratcher, Head of the Plastic Surgery, spoken in a way that was typical for him, sharp, dry and offending. "Have you accidently left yours in a patient's stomach?"
"Oh God, Phil, let the boy alone!", Dr. Tom Springsteen, Head of the ENT's, was reaching with his thick fingers for a Havanna, which he was used to carry around in his the pocket of hiswhite coat, while he simply shook his head. "Can't you let people catch their breath at least before you start to tease them?"
His hoarse and threatening voice seemed to act on Gratcher, who shut his mouth immediately. But the derogating look was still in his eyes. Nobody wanted to guess what he was thinking.
Only to make sure that they could go on Brandon held up his hand appeasingly. "Gentleman, please! And, Tom, the cigar!"
Springsteen chuckled unnervedly and put the Havanna back into his pocket
Only ten minutes later two pagers went off and at the same time Jen Andrews and Jesse Travis jumped onto their feet. "Car accident!", shouted Jen in the direction of the angry faces, trying to sound apologizingly, but couldn't help smiling brightly.
Jesse saw a wall of blackness coming towards him and grabbed the back-rest of his chair for a second. It was as quickly gone as it had come. Probably had had just stood up too quickly. Damn heat.
Getting out of here was the best thing that could happen to him. Also he was grinning when he and Jen closed the door behind themselves.
I know that the idea is not really an original, I just couldn't resist! Hope you like it though. Oh, and: Thanks for encouraging me writing in English! Please R/R :-)
"Good morning LA, this is Timm Jefferson, your host and I hope you've already filled up your swimmimg pools 'cause this is gonna be our new hottest day of the year..."
Brandon Dawn turned off the radio as he entered the room. Probably the nurses had left it on. Now the room was perfectly prepared for the meeting, the water glasses had been set onto the large table and the windows were wide open on this warm day of July.
Brandon sighed. It was only nine o'clock gone and already 86 Fahrenheit. The air flickered between the high towers of downtown LA, flickered over the highways, flickered over the pacific.
Brandon took off his jacket, took place at the edge of the long Mahagoni table and looked through his papers one more time. What a great day for the Community General's year budget conference! Maybe he should... But no, if he cancelled it now, he would never set a new date for it, that was for sure. The hospital administrator sighed again, but this time not because of the heat.
He wasn't exactly looking forward to that meeting. Normally the doctors, who didn't like each other, were just kept apart in the big building of the CGH, but here they met every year and who assumed that they would let go a chance to annoy each other was badly wrong.
Fed up with the stress and the prosprects of a budget shortening anyway, the medics seemed to be almost happy about the possibility to vent their bad tempers on some of their colleagues. If you added up all this to the incredible heat today, the disaster would be even more awful that usually.
The door swung open. Brandon Dawn looked up, having just been pulled out of the state of panic that was impending to swallow him. This wasn't gonna be fun. To his relief he saw Dr. Mark Sloan, Head of the Internal Medicine, and Dr. Amanda Bentley, Head of the Pathology, walking in and smiling a 'hello' at him. They were both very nice, warm and good-natured. He liked them.
Right behind them was Dr. Jen Andrews, an excellent surgeon and also new Chief of the laboratory of the CGH. She was having a heated, but friendly discussion with Dr. Ron Perkins, Head of the Pediatric, who wore already a multi-coloured Hawaii shirt 'cause he was up to leave for his holidays after the conference.
They were talking about the difference between American football and the 'normal' football and obviously having fun.
"I just don't see why you call a game 'football' which consists of huntin' an egg and beatin' up each other...", said the young girl while she settled next to the good-looking pediatrican, who replied: "Women and sports...", before the others insisted to start with the files.
Brandon felt delighted now. Maybe this wouldn't be that terrible at all. But then he spotted an empty chair, the one next to Mark Sloan and his heart sank. He knew that most of the people in this room couldn't bear much anyway, and inpunctuality was something like a capital offence. He pitied the poor guy who didn't arrive in time.
Shaking the thought of him out of his mind, Brandon began the conference. He wasn't able to prevent the trouble anyway.
The first ten minutes were almost amazingly peaceful until the door was flung open and some one rushed in. The young man dressed in scrubs panted a weak excuse before he slumped into his chair. Desperately looking for a glass of water, the Head of the ER, Dr. Jesse Travis, finally found that there wasn't one for him. His place had been forgotten.
Mark saw the exhaustion in his friend's face. As he knew the ER was busy at the moment, full of sun-burned and heat-shocked people, mostly tourists. Jesse had helped Alex and the other interns, he wasn't the kind of man who let others work for himself.
Quietly Mark pushed his glass of water over to Jesse and earned a very grateful glance from his friend. Jesse emptied the glass with one deep gulp.
"Maybe we should start a collection and buy a wristwatch for Dr. Travis!" No one could miss thewords of Dr. Phillip Gratcher, Head of the Plastic Surgery, spoken in a way that was typical for him, sharp, dry and offending. "Have you accidently left yours in a patient's stomach?"
"Oh God, Phil, let the boy alone!", Dr. Tom Springsteen, Head of the ENT's, was reaching with his thick fingers for a Havanna, which he was used to carry around in his the pocket of hiswhite coat, while he simply shook his head. "Can't you let people catch their breath at least before you start to tease them?"
His hoarse and threatening voice seemed to act on Gratcher, who shut his mouth immediately. But the derogating look was still in his eyes. Nobody wanted to guess what he was thinking.
Only to make sure that they could go on Brandon held up his hand appeasingly. "Gentleman, please! And, Tom, the cigar!"
Springsteen chuckled unnervedly and put the Havanna back into his pocket
Only ten minutes later two pagers went off and at the same time Jen Andrews and Jesse Travis jumped onto their feet. "Car accident!", shouted Jen in the direction of the angry faces, trying to sound apologizingly, but couldn't help smiling brightly.
Jesse saw a wall of blackness coming towards him and grabbed the back-rest of his chair for a second. It was as quickly gone as it had come. Probably had had just stood up too quickly. Damn heat.
Getting out of here was the best thing that could happen to him. Also he was grinning when he and Jen closed the door behind themselves.