Synopsis:- There are deadly consequences when Jesse decides to pursue his
writing career and I suppose since I'm writing it Steve and Jesse are both
in danger of getting a little bruised at some point.
Writer's Block
Jesse opened his laptop and logged on to the Internet. He had half an hour of his lunch break left and just had time to check his messages. As he opened his e-mail, he felt a buzz of anticipation, would anyone have read it? Would they like it? He hadn't realised when he'd first started this that other people's opinions could have such an effect on his ego, elation when people said they liked it, bordering on depression when people said they didn't. Not the constructive criticism, he could handle that. The 'why don't you.. because I think this would make a good story even better' was OK, but he'd had one review that just said it was a 'poor story' nothing else and he'd spent the whole day trying to figure out why this person didn't like it.
Jesse had known for a while that he liked to write, ever since he'd been involved in the scripts for the ill-fated 'Dr. Danger' TV series, but he had only recently discovered the on-line fan fiction community and had decided to give it a go. He had written his story about 'ER' he figured he should start with something he knew about, besides he knew how to make it realistic. Inevitably, however, his take on the goings on in an ER department, involved the whole cast getting involved in solving a murder that happened in one of the Trauma rooms. After all, that was something else he knew about.
So he tentatively opened up his e-mail and was delighted to find that he had four reviews of his story. Four people had taken the time and trouble to say something. The feeling of elation returned. He opened the first and read it savouring every word of the short pronouncement. "Really enjoying this, can't wait for more!" Jesse's characteristic grin spread wider over his face.
"Somebody likes it!" he said, not realising that he had spoken out loud until a young nurse who was fixing herself some coffee turned and spoke.
"Dr. Travis?" she said questioningly, thinking he may have spoken to her.
He looked up still grinning. "What, oh, nothing, just talking to myself."
"First sign of madness you know," she said, smiling back, Jesse's grin always was infectious.
"I know and at the last count I exhibited seventeen other signs too." Jesse replied.
"Then I'd better get out of here in case it's infectious," the nurse said, retreating through the door still grinning. She was so busy looking back at the young doctor that she bumped into the man coming the other way spilling hot coffee all the way down his jacket.
"Oh I'm so sorry," she said, apologetically, "Here let me help you clean up."
Steve grabbed his handkerchief from his pocket and began wiping himself down. He looked up at the predictably young, attractive, blonde woman who'd just scolded him. Were there just a lot of accident prone pretty blondes in LA or did he attract them. "I'm fine," he said, rubbing the tender skin on his hand, grateful that most of the coffee had landed on his leather jacket.
"No you're not. I'll get you an ice pack," the nurse said and disappeared
He moved over to join his friend. "Hey Jess," he said taking a seat.
"Do you want me to take a look at that," Jess nodded at his hand, he had watched the whole interaction.
"No it'll be OK," Steve replied, gratefully taking the ice pack from the nurse who had returned with it. He wrapped it around the damaged skin. "Thanks," he said to her.
"You're welcome," she said, flashing him the same smile she'd just given Jesse. "You know if it's still hurting later, my shift finishes at eight," she continued suggestively.
"I'll be sure to remember that," Steve replied, cautiously, all he needed was a date with another disaster prone woman. Still he couldn't help appreciating the curves of her uniform as she exited the room, his head tilting slightly to appreciate the view. How did she manage that wiggle as she walked? As she left, he turned and realised that Jesse had his head tilted at the same angle. Jesse caught the look and hastily both men sat upright.
"Hey I think you have a date there," Jesse said teasingly. "Nurse Johnson seems to like you."
Steve eyebrows furrowed for a minute. "Nurse Johnson, my dad told me about her. Isn't she the one who blocked the sinks and left the taps on, flooding the OR,"
Jesse nodded.
"And," Steve continued, "Didn't she catch a sheet when she was in charge of the drugs trolley and end up littering the entire corridor with medication?"
"Yeah," Jesse nodded again. "Took us four hours to identify all of the different pills by their colour and size so that we could check the inventory." He smiled mischievously. "So you see, beautiful, accident prone, she's perfect for you."
Steve shook his head, grimacing. "Oh no, that's one date that's never going to happen." He looked at his young friend's computer. "So what are you up to?" He asked, changing the subject.
Jesse looked at the computer. "Oh nothing, just checking my e-mail," Jesse said, the grin returning as he spotted the nice review that was still on the screen.
"Something nice?" Steve asked. "Or someone nice?"
Jesse was momentarily distracted as he clicked onto the next message. "What.. oh no nothing like that." His smile broadened again as he read 'Loving it. Please write more.'
Steve was used to his young friend smiling, he seemed to smile at everything but there was pure joy in his expression at the moment. His e- mail must really have good news in it. "So would you care to share?" He asked.
"Hmm, oh it's nothing really," Jesse replied turning to look at his friend.
"OK fine, if you don't want to talk about it," Steve replied, unable to hide the disappointment in his tone. He really wanted to know what was making his friend so happy.
"You really want to know?" Jesse asked, he was a little nervous about telling the people around him what he was doing in case they thought he was foolish, but he couldn't take the disappointed look on his friend's face.
Steve nodded. "But only if you want to tell me."
"Well.." Jesse began hesitantly and proceeded to explain the concept of fan fiction and his writing to his friend. "So you see I just got these two really nice reviews and I can't tell you how good it feels to have total strangers take the time to write nice things about what I've written." Jesse watched his friend's expression. "You think it's stupid don't you."
Steve smiled at his friend. "No, as a matter of fact I think it's great that you've found something that you enjoy doing so much. We all need a release for our creativity." Steve regarded his friend, his head on one side, deciding that he would share something about himself. "Bet you didn't know that I paint."
Jesse looked at his friend the cop, finding it hard to picture Steve at an easel. "Well I know that Mark dabbles."
"Well I do too, I'm not very good, which is how come I don't tell many people about it, but I really enjoy it. You should never be embarrassed about something you enjoy."
"Then how come I didn't know.."
"About the painting?" Steve finished for him. "Just because I don't talk about it doesn't mean that I'm embarrassed by it." He looked across at his friend. "So, if it's a murder mystery can I read it sometime?" he asked.
"You really want to?" Jesse asked.
"Sure," Steve replied, pleased at the expression of pleasure that crossed over his young friend's features. He got up to get himself a coffee. By the time he came to sit down again Jesse's expression had completely changed. He looked positively crestfallen. "What's the matter Jess?" Steve asked concerned by the sudden change in his friend.
"Nothing," Jesse said his voice flat.
"It's not nothing, what is it?" When Jesse did not answer he turned the computer to face him and read the screen. 'This is the worst story I've ever read. My advice -give up writing.' It took a moment to realise that this review was what had altered his friend's mood. He didn't quite understand it but remembering the positive effect the good review had had, he guessed that it would be quite easy for this to have the opposite effect, and it was quite vitriolic in tone.
"Well looks like that's my writing career over."
"What are you talking about?" Steve asked. "It's only one bad review."
"No," Jesse said, hitting the back button.
Steve read, 'This is the most ridiculous plot I've seen- unrealistic.' He looked at his friend. "OK two bad reviews, but I thought you said you had lot's of positive feedback too."
"There's another one like that as well," Jesse said somehow only able to focus on the negative. What was wrong with it? Why didn't people like it? Was there something wrong with his plot or was it, as he had expected all along, that he was just no good at writing?
"Jess," Steve raised his voice as he tried to pull is friend out of his musings. Jesse looked at him "I asked you how many positive reviews you'd had?"
Jesse mentally counted them up. "Oh about fifteen and two e-mails." he replied. He'd known all along that it was a ridiculous idea, English had been his worst subject in high school, spelling was never his strong point. What made him think that he could write.
"Then you've had far more positive than negative." Steve tried.
"Yes but those people were just being kind," Jesse said, his own insecurities feeding what he was saying.
"And the people who wrote the bad reviews were the ones who were being honest?" Steve asked, seeing where this was going.
Jesse nodded.
"Let me read it," Steve said
"Steve you don't have to."
"Let me read it and I'll give you an honest opinion on it." Steve stated firmly, he couldn't let Jesse give up something he so obviously enjoyed doing, so easily, but he knew himself how easily an ego could be dented, probably why he didn't show people his paintings.
"You're sure?" Jesse asked still a little uncertain.
"Sure about what?" a familiar female voice asked from behind.
Both men turned to see Mark and Amanda who had come over to join them.
"I'm trying to persuade Jesse to let me read his story." Steve replied.
Jesse shot Steve a look of daggers. He hadn't really wanted to tell Mark and Amanda about his writing, afraid as with Steve, that they would consider it to be foolish.
"Oh I would, it's very good." Mark said.
Jesse turned to look at his mentor more than a little shocked. "You.. you've read it?" he asked slightly incredulously.
"Oh yes," Mark said, "and I think about half of the hospital staff are following it. I've recommended it to lots of people."
"But.. but how?" Jesse asked, trying to get his head around the fact that his secret pastime wasn't a secret.
"Jesse," Mark said, smiling at his young colleagues' bemusement. "You posted one of the chapters from the computer in my office and didn't log off when you'd finished." Mark explained. "And I think the pen name Dishydoc. suits you by the way."
Jesse blushed crimson. The pen name had been a joke. He never intended anyone to find out that it was him. "I er.. er.." he stuttered.
"Mark stop teasing him," Amanda said, "But I agree, it's really intriguing so far."
"Good," Steve said, "Then perhaps you can persuade him not to give up writing it."
"You were going to give up? Why?" Mark asked.
When Jesse did not answer him Steve filled in. "Because he's received some really unpleasant feedback in amongst all of the positive stuff."
"It's not just that," Jesse said defensively. "It was a foolish idea me thinking I could write- my grammar's lousy and I can't spell..."
"But that's not important Jess," Amanda replied, "It's a good story. Don't tell me I'm never going to find out how it ends"
Jesse's reply was interrupted by both Steve and Amanda's pagers going off. Amanda used the hospital phone whilst Steve used his cell. They both hung up at the same time.
"A new case?" Mark asked
"Yep," Steve replied grimly. "A homicide."
"Here in the ER" Amanda completed for him and the four friends wasted no time heading down there.
The moment Jesse walked into the trauma room he paled and leant back against the door frame. Mark and Amanda spotted it too. Amanda moved over to the body to confirm her suspicions, whilst Mark watched Jesse's reactions.
"Amanda?" Jesse asked not having to verbalise the rest of the question.
"I'm afraid so Jess," she replied. "Looks like he was hit over the head and then given a massive shock with the defibrillator ."
"Oh no," Jesse said sinking back further onto the wall.
Steve realised he was out of the loop. "Does one of you three want to explain to me what's going on?"
"This entire crime scene is lifted straight from Jesse's story," Mark explained, "Including the way the victim was killed."
Steve stared from his father to Jesse and then back again. "Are you saying someone has killed somebody by copying what Jesse has written?" he asked not quite able to believe it.
"Right down to the red scarf left on the floor." Jesse said, his voice shaking slightly as he pointed at the red piece of silk left by the gurney.
Writer's Block
Jesse opened his laptop and logged on to the Internet. He had half an hour of his lunch break left and just had time to check his messages. As he opened his e-mail, he felt a buzz of anticipation, would anyone have read it? Would they like it? He hadn't realised when he'd first started this that other people's opinions could have such an effect on his ego, elation when people said they liked it, bordering on depression when people said they didn't. Not the constructive criticism, he could handle that. The 'why don't you.. because I think this would make a good story even better' was OK, but he'd had one review that just said it was a 'poor story' nothing else and he'd spent the whole day trying to figure out why this person didn't like it.
Jesse had known for a while that he liked to write, ever since he'd been involved in the scripts for the ill-fated 'Dr. Danger' TV series, but he had only recently discovered the on-line fan fiction community and had decided to give it a go. He had written his story about 'ER' he figured he should start with something he knew about, besides he knew how to make it realistic. Inevitably, however, his take on the goings on in an ER department, involved the whole cast getting involved in solving a murder that happened in one of the Trauma rooms. After all, that was something else he knew about.
So he tentatively opened up his e-mail and was delighted to find that he had four reviews of his story. Four people had taken the time and trouble to say something. The feeling of elation returned. He opened the first and read it savouring every word of the short pronouncement. "Really enjoying this, can't wait for more!" Jesse's characteristic grin spread wider over his face.
"Somebody likes it!" he said, not realising that he had spoken out loud until a young nurse who was fixing herself some coffee turned and spoke.
"Dr. Travis?" she said questioningly, thinking he may have spoken to her.
He looked up still grinning. "What, oh, nothing, just talking to myself."
"First sign of madness you know," she said, smiling back, Jesse's grin always was infectious.
"I know and at the last count I exhibited seventeen other signs too." Jesse replied.
"Then I'd better get out of here in case it's infectious," the nurse said, retreating through the door still grinning. She was so busy looking back at the young doctor that she bumped into the man coming the other way spilling hot coffee all the way down his jacket.
"Oh I'm so sorry," she said, apologetically, "Here let me help you clean up."
Steve grabbed his handkerchief from his pocket and began wiping himself down. He looked up at the predictably young, attractive, blonde woman who'd just scolded him. Were there just a lot of accident prone pretty blondes in LA or did he attract them. "I'm fine," he said, rubbing the tender skin on his hand, grateful that most of the coffee had landed on his leather jacket.
"No you're not. I'll get you an ice pack," the nurse said and disappeared
He moved over to join his friend. "Hey Jess," he said taking a seat.
"Do you want me to take a look at that," Jess nodded at his hand, he had watched the whole interaction.
"No it'll be OK," Steve replied, gratefully taking the ice pack from the nurse who had returned with it. He wrapped it around the damaged skin. "Thanks," he said to her.
"You're welcome," she said, flashing him the same smile she'd just given Jesse. "You know if it's still hurting later, my shift finishes at eight," she continued suggestively.
"I'll be sure to remember that," Steve replied, cautiously, all he needed was a date with another disaster prone woman. Still he couldn't help appreciating the curves of her uniform as she exited the room, his head tilting slightly to appreciate the view. How did she manage that wiggle as she walked? As she left, he turned and realised that Jesse had his head tilted at the same angle. Jesse caught the look and hastily both men sat upright.
"Hey I think you have a date there," Jesse said teasingly. "Nurse Johnson seems to like you."
Steve eyebrows furrowed for a minute. "Nurse Johnson, my dad told me about her. Isn't she the one who blocked the sinks and left the taps on, flooding the OR,"
Jesse nodded.
"And," Steve continued, "Didn't she catch a sheet when she was in charge of the drugs trolley and end up littering the entire corridor with medication?"
"Yeah," Jesse nodded again. "Took us four hours to identify all of the different pills by their colour and size so that we could check the inventory." He smiled mischievously. "So you see, beautiful, accident prone, she's perfect for you."
Steve shook his head, grimacing. "Oh no, that's one date that's never going to happen." He looked at his young friend's computer. "So what are you up to?" He asked, changing the subject.
Jesse looked at the computer. "Oh nothing, just checking my e-mail," Jesse said, the grin returning as he spotted the nice review that was still on the screen.
"Something nice?" Steve asked. "Or someone nice?"
Jesse was momentarily distracted as he clicked onto the next message. "What.. oh no nothing like that." His smile broadened again as he read 'Loving it. Please write more.'
Steve was used to his young friend smiling, he seemed to smile at everything but there was pure joy in his expression at the moment. His e- mail must really have good news in it. "So would you care to share?" He asked.
"Hmm, oh it's nothing really," Jesse replied turning to look at his friend.
"OK fine, if you don't want to talk about it," Steve replied, unable to hide the disappointment in his tone. He really wanted to know what was making his friend so happy.
"You really want to know?" Jesse asked, he was a little nervous about telling the people around him what he was doing in case they thought he was foolish, but he couldn't take the disappointed look on his friend's face.
Steve nodded. "But only if you want to tell me."
"Well.." Jesse began hesitantly and proceeded to explain the concept of fan fiction and his writing to his friend. "So you see I just got these two really nice reviews and I can't tell you how good it feels to have total strangers take the time to write nice things about what I've written." Jesse watched his friend's expression. "You think it's stupid don't you."
Steve smiled at his friend. "No, as a matter of fact I think it's great that you've found something that you enjoy doing so much. We all need a release for our creativity." Steve regarded his friend, his head on one side, deciding that he would share something about himself. "Bet you didn't know that I paint."
Jesse looked at his friend the cop, finding it hard to picture Steve at an easel. "Well I know that Mark dabbles."
"Well I do too, I'm not very good, which is how come I don't tell many people about it, but I really enjoy it. You should never be embarrassed about something you enjoy."
"Then how come I didn't know.."
"About the painting?" Steve finished for him. "Just because I don't talk about it doesn't mean that I'm embarrassed by it." He looked across at his friend. "So, if it's a murder mystery can I read it sometime?" he asked.
"You really want to?" Jesse asked.
"Sure," Steve replied, pleased at the expression of pleasure that crossed over his young friend's features. He got up to get himself a coffee. By the time he came to sit down again Jesse's expression had completely changed. He looked positively crestfallen. "What's the matter Jess?" Steve asked concerned by the sudden change in his friend.
"Nothing," Jesse said his voice flat.
"It's not nothing, what is it?" When Jesse did not answer he turned the computer to face him and read the screen. 'This is the worst story I've ever read. My advice -give up writing.' It took a moment to realise that this review was what had altered his friend's mood. He didn't quite understand it but remembering the positive effect the good review had had, he guessed that it would be quite easy for this to have the opposite effect, and it was quite vitriolic in tone.
"Well looks like that's my writing career over."
"What are you talking about?" Steve asked. "It's only one bad review."
"No," Jesse said, hitting the back button.
Steve read, 'This is the most ridiculous plot I've seen- unrealistic.' He looked at his friend. "OK two bad reviews, but I thought you said you had lot's of positive feedback too."
"There's another one like that as well," Jesse said somehow only able to focus on the negative. What was wrong with it? Why didn't people like it? Was there something wrong with his plot or was it, as he had expected all along, that he was just no good at writing?
"Jess," Steve raised his voice as he tried to pull is friend out of his musings. Jesse looked at him "I asked you how many positive reviews you'd had?"
Jesse mentally counted them up. "Oh about fifteen and two e-mails." he replied. He'd known all along that it was a ridiculous idea, English had been his worst subject in high school, spelling was never his strong point. What made him think that he could write.
"Then you've had far more positive than negative." Steve tried.
"Yes but those people were just being kind," Jesse said, his own insecurities feeding what he was saying.
"And the people who wrote the bad reviews were the ones who were being honest?" Steve asked, seeing where this was going.
Jesse nodded.
"Let me read it," Steve said
"Steve you don't have to."
"Let me read it and I'll give you an honest opinion on it." Steve stated firmly, he couldn't let Jesse give up something he so obviously enjoyed doing, so easily, but he knew himself how easily an ego could be dented, probably why he didn't show people his paintings.
"You're sure?" Jesse asked still a little uncertain.
"Sure about what?" a familiar female voice asked from behind.
Both men turned to see Mark and Amanda who had come over to join them.
"I'm trying to persuade Jesse to let me read his story." Steve replied.
Jesse shot Steve a look of daggers. He hadn't really wanted to tell Mark and Amanda about his writing, afraid as with Steve, that they would consider it to be foolish.
"Oh I would, it's very good." Mark said.
Jesse turned to look at his mentor more than a little shocked. "You.. you've read it?" he asked slightly incredulously.
"Oh yes," Mark said, "and I think about half of the hospital staff are following it. I've recommended it to lots of people."
"But.. but how?" Jesse asked, trying to get his head around the fact that his secret pastime wasn't a secret.
"Jesse," Mark said, smiling at his young colleagues' bemusement. "You posted one of the chapters from the computer in my office and didn't log off when you'd finished." Mark explained. "And I think the pen name Dishydoc. suits you by the way."
Jesse blushed crimson. The pen name had been a joke. He never intended anyone to find out that it was him. "I er.. er.." he stuttered.
"Mark stop teasing him," Amanda said, "But I agree, it's really intriguing so far."
"Good," Steve said, "Then perhaps you can persuade him not to give up writing it."
"You were going to give up? Why?" Mark asked.
When Jesse did not answer him Steve filled in. "Because he's received some really unpleasant feedback in amongst all of the positive stuff."
"It's not just that," Jesse said defensively. "It was a foolish idea me thinking I could write- my grammar's lousy and I can't spell..."
"But that's not important Jess," Amanda replied, "It's a good story. Don't tell me I'm never going to find out how it ends"
Jesse's reply was interrupted by both Steve and Amanda's pagers going off. Amanda used the hospital phone whilst Steve used his cell. They both hung up at the same time.
"A new case?" Mark asked
"Yep," Steve replied grimly. "A homicide."
"Here in the ER" Amanda completed for him and the four friends wasted no time heading down there.
The moment Jesse walked into the trauma room he paled and leant back against the door frame. Mark and Amanda spotted it too. Amanda moved over to the body to confirm her suspicions, whilst Mark watched Jesse's reactions.
"Amanda?" Jesse asked not having to verbalise the rest of the question.
"I'm afraid so Jess," she replied. "Looks like he was hit over the head and then given a massive shock with the defibrillator ."
"Oh no," Jesse said sinking back further onto the wall.
Steve realised he was out of the loop. "Does one of you three want to explain to me what's going on?"
"This entire crime scene is lifted straight from Jesse's story," Mark explained, "Including the way the victim was killed."
Steve stared from his father to Jesse and then back again. "Are you saying someone has killed somebody by copying what Jesse has written?" he asked not quite able to believe it.
"Right down to the red scarf left on the floor." Jesse said, his voice shaking slightly as he pointed at the red piece of silk left by the gurney.