Took me long enough but I finally generated a story idea that'll last a good long time. But I'm gonna feed it to you in small episodes. Also, for bonus points, what author am I copying by writing a "Part the First", etc. etc.?

> > > >

PART THE FIRST OF THIS EPISODE (Approx. Season 4, "Ground Zero")

"Admit it, you had fun," Susan teased as they descended the EL platform steps in the hot morning air.

"Never," Mark declared, holding firm to his Cub roots. Susan had dragged him to four White Sox games in the last three weeks – she could drag him into a sewage pit and he'd follow – but some things couldn't be changed. "The company was great, but I draw the line on having fun."

Susan responded, "You guys always hold the ballpark against them" – at which point Mark cut her off, "If by you guys you mean bald people..."

Susan laughed as they rounded the corner to the ambulance bay. She had spent the whole train ride trying to cajole on what was in the box. He'd been vague and said he only wanted to spread good cheer in the ER. Susan thought it was a sign he was coming down with something.

Mark propped the box down in the Admit Desk area and out popped fresh doughnuts.

"And what's gotten into you?" Doug asked in a break from his chart work.

"The hospital settled the Kenny Law suit," Mark smiled as he turned and pecked Susan on the cheek. "One less asshole to worry about."

Susan was quick to turn her attention elsewhere, "What about the...."

Mark knew she was referring to the bathroom incident and just waved his hand, brushing his problems into the wind, "The police did a good job screwing that one up on their own." Mark began rummaging the charts for a good sick person to heal.

Susan watched him for a split-second, then turned and was greeted by Kerry Weaver, gamboling into the desk area trailed closely by Carol – at least, Susan thought it was Carol. She could see traces of black hair behind the mountain of books.

"Kerry, this budget proposal is a mess, you've gotta read thirteen thousand pages to come up with a two-page request." Definitely Carol, still riding the Free-Clinic train.

Weaver was erasing the board and seemed to pay Carol on lip service in responding: "The hospital does not have a mint stashed in the basement for the purposes of creating money for surplus services. You want this, cut through the red tape yourself." Susan tucked Carol's shoulder and they broke for the lounge.

"She forget her Midol this morning," Susan giggled under her breath.

> > > >

John Carter was finding it hard to focus on the sunburn victim in front of him. Across the hallway he could see Anna talking with an elderly couple, she was trying to explain the instructions for taking a drug to them. He wanted to walk over there and rescue her, but instead he was writing a clearance to have Haleh give some homeless man named Pablo a sponge-bath.

Anna had a tomboy attitude about her, raised on a shoe-string budget in a house full of Italian Catholics on Philadelphia's South Side. He came from all the luxury and privilege a couple hundred million dollars could buy. They were so different, so Carter felt the best path would be to discover how they were the same. They shared a lot of interests, although at times it was very hard to cover his pampered upbringing – some of those meat sauce stains were never gonna come out, no matter how many times he washed them.

His musing was broken when Susan stuck her head in Exam Three: "Carter, got a second?"

"Sure, I don't think Pablo's going anywhere." He met her outside the door.

Susan smiled and launched into it: "You've still got money, right? The stock market hasn't crashed or anything like that?"

Carter rolled his eyes, "Well, Gamma still bets like a drunk sailor during Gin Rummy games, but we've got some stashed in the Caymans."

Susan folded her hands, "Look, I only ask cause it's for the betterment of the hospital. You think you could arrange a meeting between Carol and whoever, I dunno, the bag man for your family?"

Carter couldn't help but laugh in disbelief. "The bag man? We're not the Gambinos."

Susan, "But still, you see Carol, you say, "Hey, I hear you need help getting funding for your clinic idea. My family might have a dollar or two lying around."

Carter nodded, "Well, Gamma loves a good cause. I'll see what I can do."

Susan smiled and was about to say thank you when Anna came up from the exam area to their left.

> > > >

"Hey Carter, can I still get full-time if I come back after journal club to cover the rest of a shift?" She always asked John these questions cause he had a good head for numbers. Too good, it sometimes seemed like it.

He was sweet, the kind of guy she probably would have thought was a square back in Philly. But sometimes a change of scene was good for everybody involved. Even so, she was wondering why he hadn't gone into business, why a head like his was so intent on practicing medicine.

But now he was stammering, "Oh, uh....yeah, I think so. Little creativity with the punch clock might be in order. Oh, and, I can't make it to journal club tonight, gotta dragged into a last minute thing to visit my grandmother."

Hm. Last-minute with the grandparents? But Anna dismissed the questions quickly. She and him weren't even going out, although she was certain he'd formally ask her soon. She headed off.

Carter watched her move away, up the stairs and Susan saw the glint in his eyes. She laughed.

Carter, as usual completely unaware of his surroundings, was perplexed. "What?"

"Little sumthing-sumthing going on there?" Susan teased. Carter dropped his head and exhaled, "Not exactly."

Just then the two of them turned at a distinctly angry noise, the sound of Mark Greene's irate voice.

"You can't pull this kind of crap, the hospital settled this already today. Somebody didn't get the memo!"

He was chasing after some guy in a plaid shirt who – was that fake blood on his head? Susan couldn't tell. Doug was chasing after Mark, trying to read a piece of paper he'd thrown on the ground in disgust.

Mark stood next to Carter and Susan, watching the guy head out the secondary exit. He began talking, loudly, at all of them but mainly to himself.

"He impersonated a patient! Can you believe that? There's gotta be some law against that! On a lawsuit that's over and done!"

Doug's tone was heavy as he looked up from the paper, "This is a new one Mark. It's in civil court."

Susan raised her eyebrows, "What?"

Mark turned ominously. Doug finished reading, "Chris Law is saying you violated his brothers civil rights."

Mark eyes were beginning to turn blood red, the three of them could sense his body beginning to broil. His teeth were clenched, he was forming a fist, and trying so hard not to completely lose it, he stalked his way to Trauma One.

To be Continued in Part the Second.....