A/N: Late again, sorry, life just seems to be going a little too fast these days.

15. If at First You Don't Succeed

Steve was ensconced in bed and focused on speculatively flicking the remote when the door burst open to disgorge Jesse Travis. Jesse skidded on his heels, just managing to stop himself before he ran into the bed.

Steve glanced over at him, taking in his disheveled appearance. "What are you doing here? I thought you had the night off."

Jesse let out a breath, half relief, half laugh. "I did. But then I got this call from the police that there had been an altercation at my barbecue joint and that my partner had been injured, and that I'd better get over there."

"Oh." Steve digested this. "I didn't think of that. Sorry to interrupt your night."

Jesse tossed his jacket over the end of the bed and sat down next to it. "You're sorry! Steve, you got hurt filling in for me!"

"Huh? Oh, well, better me than you. At least I know how to handle myself."

Jesse poked one of Steve's feet through the covers, the one that didn't have a little contraption tenting the blankets over it. "Hey! You saying that I don't know how to handle myself?"

"No, no - but this guy was on something, and at least I have the advantage of training and my size is a little more intimidating."

"Yeah, I can see that training came in real handy." Jesse gestured with the chart clutched in one hand. "Nice eye."

"I did not get this black eye from that jerk." Steve paused. "Either black eye."

"Uh huh. The nice thing about brains over brawn is that I would have been smart enough to use my dialing finger to call the police - I mean before I needed an ambulance."

"So you're calling me dumb?"

Jesse smiled broadly. "I didn't use that word - you did."

Steve shoved him hard with the foot Jesse had poked just a second before and Jesse had to catch himself to keep from sliding off the bed. "Ouch," Steve added as an afterthought.

"I'll bet." Jesse flipped open the chart. "Russell scared the heck out of me, but everything here seems okay." He glanced through the pages. "Painful, but okay. Even though I've seen novels shorter than this chart. That must have been one heck of a fight."

"It's a long story." Steve grimaced at the memory, then blinked inconfusion as Jesse's first remark landed. "He said he was just keeping me overnight for observation."

"Right. And he said you went peacefully. I figured that at the very least, you had brain damage. More than the usual, I mean." This time Jesse maneuvered too quickly for Steve to get him with his foot, so Steve had to settle for glaring at him. "See what I mean? That move hurt the last time and you still tried it again. Maybe I'd better re-do those CT scans."

"You know, you're not half as funny as you think you are."

"Who's joking? I almost came up here with a crash cart, just to be safe! Oh - yeah - I almost forgot - " He reached in his back pocket and pulled out a rolled up magazine. "I found this at the restaurant. Figured you'd miss it."

"Hey!" Steve smiled with pleasure as he accepted the somewhat crumpled copy of Motocross. "Thanks! There's an article in here I've been trying to finish."

Jesse grimaced. "Sorry you didn't get to. Who knew it would suddenly be busy on a Wednesday night?"

Steve shrugged, flipping through the magazine's pages. "Not your fault. How was dinner with your Dad?"

Jesse looked thoughtful, leaning back against the footboard and getting comfortable. "Really nice. I mean, not so much the dinner, but afterward - after the call came, I mean. I was going to send him to the airport in a cab and go check on the place, but he insisted on coming. He helped me clean up and set up the tables and chairs for the night - told me he had waited tables in college. I had no idea. He had some really good stories - really funny - said if we ever needed an extra pair of hands he'd dust off his waiting style. He'd be good, too - did a great job." He shrugged, a little self consciously. "Do y'know, I think it's one of the nicest times we've ever had? Just scrubbing tables. Really like father and son, you know?"

Steve didn't say anything right away, but suddenly the ache in his side didn't seem all that important. "That's great. Where is he now?"

"I dropped him at the airport. That's why it took me so long to get here."

"How's Cristina? She wasn't looking so good last time I saw her."

"She's fine. By the time I got there, she was loading the dishwasher."

"She really going to be all right as a doctor? I know she loves medicine, but that seems like an inconvenient drawback to have."

"Aw, it's not all that unusual - she'll get past it after a couple of years. And she rises to the occasion when she really needs to. Once you passed out, she shook it off to try and stop the bleeding."

Steve frowned. "I did not pass out."

Jesse rolled his eyes. "Yeah? Tell me about when the paramedics got there."

Steve searched his memory. "Okay, maybe I - blacked out for just a second. I remember the ambulance ride, though. Oh. That reminds me - I owe you a t-shirt."

Jesse forehead creased. "What kind of a t-shirt?"

"I borrowed your spare one - at the restaurant. Actually, Cristina borrowed it for me. To make a long story short, it didn't survive the visit from Darla's ex."

Jesse's forehead creased more deeply.

Steve studied him uneasily. "Look, I'll get you another one. There wasn't anything special about that one, was there?"

"No." Jesse sighed regretfully. "I'm just trying to picture you in one of my t-shirts. What did they use to get you into it, a crowbar?"

"Not funny."

"I don't suppose anybody thought to take pictures?"

"A little more and I'm going to show you that I'm not all that hurt."

"See what a good doctor I am? I've got you thinking about getting out of your hospital bed already."

"I'm only in a hospital bed because I'm tired and I'm pretty sure it's the only place I have a chance of getting any rest," Steve retorted. "What are you doing with my chart anyway? You didn't treat me. Aren't there privacy rules about that kind of thing?"

"Ah, but I supervise Dr. Coopersmith, who did treat you. It's my job to follow up on his work."

Steve snorted. "They let you supervise people?"

Jesse smirked wickedly. "I'm mentor to a whole new crop of ER doctors."

"Now I'm scared."

"Well, it's not hard to find you. I can hear arguing all the way down the hall."

Both Steve and Jesse swiveled to the door to see Amanda leaning there, a look that was half maternal fondness, half maternal reproof on her face. She pushed away from the door to enter. "What are you doing here, Jesse? I thought you were off tonight."

"I'm here strictly in visitor's capacity. I got word that there was a little fracas at Bob's and that my partner was hurt."

Amanda studied Steve's swollen eye with a frown. "This happened at Bob's? I just heard Steve was admitted and thought I'd stop in before my shift started. What happened, Steve?"

"Oh…" Steve hesitated. He had no idea a) where to start and b) what to include or leave out. "Let's just say that Darla has really bad taste in men and that this one didn't take kindly to her breaking up with him."

"And you defended her honor?" Amanda smiled, touching his chin lightly to tilt his head and get a better look at the other eye. "Very gallant. That's two damsels in distress in one day. If I'd known you were going to be here, I'd have brought the new t-shirt I bought for you. I felt really badly about the one CJ stained - I honestly don't think it's going to come clean."

"Give it to Jesse. I owe him one."

Jesse made a face. "What am I going to do with a t-shirt in your size? Wear it as a dress?"

"What you do in the privacy of your home is your own business, Jess."

Jesse poked Steve's foot again and Amanda shooed his hand away. "Be careful!" she said indignantly. "He's injured!"

The smile Steve bestowed on Jesse was decidedly smug. "That's right. Be careful. I'm injured."

Jesse coughed something about 'milking it' into his fist, then frowned suddenly and flipped through the chart again. He gestured to the foot with the blankets tented over it. "How the heck did you burn your foot in a fight, anyway?"

Steve looked a little flustered. "I - it's a really long story, okay?"

Jesse's brows rose. "I've got time."

"Oh, that reminds me, Steve," Amanda interrupted as an afterthought, "were you and CJ playing cops and robbers or something?"

All remnants of Steve's smile disappeared. "Um - sort of - I guess." Then, more anxiously, "Why do you ask?"

Jesse looked at him in surprise. "What were you doing with CJ?"

Amanda shrugged. "He just seems to have picked up some odd words, and I can't figure out where else he'd get them."

"I was babysitting." Steve shrank back into the pillows and tried to look unconcerned. "Odd words? Like - what?"

"You? Babysitting?" Jesse stared.

"It sounds like 'book him' - clear as day. I can't imagine where else he came up with it."

"Oh." Steve paled a bit. "Well, he didn't want to watch his videos, so we - did - other things."

"Well, as long as you didn't play too rough…oh, Steve - he didn't pick it up from one of those awful gangster movies of yours, did he?"

"Of course not." Steve was glad to be able to finally answer with complete honesty. "I know you don't approve of those."

"I can't believe you were babysitting. And CJ's still alive?"

Amanda frowned in Jesse's direction. "Steve was doing me a favor," she rebuked. "And CJ had a very nice time with his 'Unca Teev'."

"Yeah, we went to the beach." Steve figured that getting them off the topic of CJ's exposure to police vocabulary as soon as possible was a good idea. "He really likes the water. I could show him how to surf when he gets a little bigger. Hey - he said my name?"

Amanda beamed. "Very clearly. I mean, as clearly as you can with only a couple of teeth." Her smile slipped a little. "I don't know about surfing, Steve…"

"Oh, come on, Amanda - he's a boy. You can't wrap him in cotton. Let his Unca Teev teach him to surf. I promise to stand by in case he gets hurt - Steve, I mean." Jesse neatly dodged another nudge with Steve's foot. "Does he say my name?"

Amanda hesitated. "Well, no, but 'J's are hard, and you didn't just spend half a day with him. Can I trust you two to behave if I leave you alone? I have to get to work."

Jesse shook his head. "Behave, she says. What does she think we're going to do?"

"I shudder to imagine. Get some rest, Steve - you look tired. I'll stop by after my shift and join you for breakfast. You coming, Jesse?"

"I'm gonna keep Steve company until Mark gets here."

"Dad's coming? You called him?" Steve had been flipping through his magazine, looking for his article, but he looked up at that.

Jesse gave him a tolerant glance. "Of course I called him. He's one third owner of Bob's and last time I checked, he was also your father."

Steve groaned. "Did you tell him not to come? I'll bet he just got home - I don't want him have to turn around and come right back - especially for this! It's nothing!"

"I didn't tell him what to do or not to do," said Jesse virtuously. "I just stuck to the facts."

"Great."

Amanda shook her head. "I'll let you two continue your argument. I'll see you later."

Jesse watched her go, then eyed Steve thoughtfully.

Steve squirmed uneasily. "What now?"

"Why didn't you tell me you spent the day babysitting? I would have understood."

"I know that." Steve shrugged, then kneaded absently at his bandaged side at the surprise flash of pain that provoked. "But who knows when you'll see your dad again? And it was good you said, right?"

"Yeah." Jesse looked at him again, then slid off the bed. "Okay, but - well, thanks, then. I'll make it up to you."
"Darned straight you will. You going?"

"Yeah. I'm going to leave you alone with your magazine. Amanda's right - you look beat. I don't think Mr. Big Tough Cop is tough enough to handle hard time with a thirteen month old."

Steve almost smiled. "Wish I could tell you you're wrong. I don't know how Amanda does it. And don't quote me on that!"

Jesse snorted. "Don't worry! I have to work with her every day and it's hard enough living with all that superiority as it is!"

Steve chuckled, rubbed frowningly at his side again. "Thanks for bringing my magazine."

"No problem. Just take it easy and get well in time to help me clean up that alley - I'd hate for a Health Inspector to come by in the meantime."

Steve's face smoothed into contrite, serious lines, but there was a suspicious glimmer in his eyes. "Don't think I'm going to be able to help you there, friend - that crime scene tape will be down by tomorrow and somehow I don't think I'll be cleared for active duty that soon."

Jesse gave him a sour look. "Oh, so the payback begins already."

The corners of Steve's mouth twitched upward. "Looks like my luck today is starting to change at last. Before you start shoveling, you might want to be sure your tetanus shots are up to date. I hear that's very important when you come into contact with garbage."

"Careful, or I'll have to give Coopersmith special orders regarding your treatment."

"Leave him out of this - he was darned nice to me!"

Jesse grinned. "Are you kidding? I'm probably giving him a medal just for surviving you!"

Steve looked for something to throw as Jesse used his parting shot to make a hasty exit, but the only thing handy was his magazine, and he certainly wasn't letting go of that. He smoothed a creaseout ofthe cover tenderly.

Alone at last. Maybe now he could finish his article.

TBC

(One more to go. I promise I'll post it before I travel next week. Short explanation of why I assumed most fanfic readers aren't interested in comedy: one of my best stories is a long, complicated comedy I wrote in another fandom. It's my least read, and nobody's favorite but mine. One of the most popular is one I started a little tongue in cheek - very angsty, very schmaltzy, very h/c - and probably the most popular. It's a perfectly good story and I'm fond of it, but I know it's not as good as the other. So I guess I concluded that most fanfic readers like the angst, schmalz, h/c, all things I'm very fond of myself as well, but maybe DM readers have broader tastes. Anyway, it wasn't a judgment, just an observation, and it doesn't hurt my feelings - I have such a good time writing comedy I'd do it no matter what. Having other people enjoy it just doubles the pleasure.)