Ralph shifted the bouquet of candy-colored daisies to his other hand and pushed open the heavy glass door of the hospital visitor's entrance. He held it for Pam, then followed her through. He enjoyed a lingering look at the way her hips shifted inside her slim-fitting skirt before he took two quick steps and caught up. They walked side by side down the long, white corridor.
Pam glanced over at him.
"You look tired," she said. "Did you get any sleep last night?"
He shrugged.
"A little I guess," he said. "They made me leave about 2:30. They said they'd call if he woke up, so I went home and tried to unwind."
He trailed his hand along the silver rail that ran down the length of the wall.
"How did you sleep?" he said.
"Like a rock," she answered.
At his questioning look, she said, "That's just how I deal with stress."
"I did have a really strange dream," she went on, frowning. "Something about a cave. It was all blue and there was a man made out of fi-"
She grabbed his arm and dragged him to a stop in the hallway. Her eyes narrowed.
"Ralph, you weren't there were you?" she said. "I didn't see you, but-"
"No!" he said. "I wouldn't-"
He broke off as she raised an eyebrow.
"All right," he said hastily. "I did try it, but I didn't get anything."
"Ralph," she said dangerously.
"I just wanted to see if it worked," he said. "Honest. I wasn't trying to spy on your dream."
She shook her head and started back down the corridor.
"An emergency's one thing," she said over her shoulder. "But you can't use the suit to entertain yourself. It's not fair."
"It was just an experiment," he said, trotting to catch up. "I swear."
"Just don't try it again."
They reached the elevators and Pam reached out to push the call button.
"Besides," she said. "We'd both be embarrassed if you walked in on my dream about Harrison Ford."
She flashed him a bright smile as the elevator doors slid open.
"Okay," he said, grinning. "I deserved that."
A burly attendant with a chain tattoo showing under the sleeve of this blue scrubs shuffled to the side as they stepped into the car.
"Did you try again with Bill?" Pam said softly as the doors hissed shut.
"Yeah," he said and punched the button for the sixth floor. "For half the night. Nothing. It was like he wasn't even there."
"Maybe you were trying too hard again," she said. "You have to relax and let it happen."
"I know, you're right," he said, watching the floor numbers tick slowly by on the digital display. "I just really thought I could reach him. This special connection between us…"
He sighed and fell silent.
The car bumped to a halt on the fourth floor. As the doors slid open, the attendant turned to Ralph.
"Listen to the lady," he said in a deep, rumbling voice. "You can't force it. Cool down and give this Bill guy a chance to see what he's missing."
He stepped out and turned and cast an appraising look down Ralph's frame.
"Besides," he said, "You're a babe. Bill would be crazy to pass you up."
The doors slid together. Ralph stood staring blankly at the seam.
"It's okay," he said finally. "You can laugh."
When the doors opened on the sixth floor, Pam was bracing herself against the wall, still shaking with ripples of laughter.
"Are you almost done?" he said, stepping out into the hall. "This is a hospital you know. You're supposed to be quiet."
Chuckling, she stepped out and planted a kiss on the tip of his nose.
"You are a babe," she said softly.
He leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the lips.
"Same to you," he said and took her hand in his. "This way."
He led her down the long, white corridor, identical to one below.
"When they called," she said. "Did they tell you what to expect?"
"They said he probably hadn't had anything to eat or drink for days," he answered. "It turns out the dehydration was the worst thing. That's what knocked him out, even more than the blood loss."
They passed another set of featureless doors and turned left.
"But when you factor in all the other stuff," he went on, "Like the sedatives they were pumping into him, the broken arm, broken ribs, who knows what else…"
He shook his head.
"They said it'll take a while before he's back to his old-"
Ralph broke off as they came around another corner and heard Bill's raised voice ringing down the hall.
"You can't lock the door," he said. "I am a Federal agent. I'll book you for fire code violations."
A tall nurse was leaning into a room on the right. Her voice was calm, but firm.
"I'm not locking you in, Mr. Maxwell," she said. "Dr. Marcus said if you wouldn't stay in bed he wanted us to shut the door. He says you can come out when you can work the handle."
Pam glanced at her watch.
"I guess when they told you it would take a while," she said, "They meant 57 minutes."
"I imagine they based that on past experience with mere mortals," Ralph said. "They didn't count on Bill Maxwell, Super Fed."
"He does tend to surprise people," she said.
They walked up behind the nurse as she turned in the doorway. Her pretty, freckled face was flushed and her white hat was slightly askew on her auburn hair.
"Oh," she said a little breathlessly. "Mr. Hinkley, see what you can do with him."
She glanced over her shoulder and dropped her voice.
"We're a little concerned that it might be a reaction to one of the stronger antibiotics," she said. "They can cause signs of dementia."
"So can Bill," Pam said pleasantly.
"We'll do our best, Leslie," Ralph said quickly and pushed Pam through the door. Smiling brightly at the wide-eyed nurse, he pulled the door shut behind them.
"Glad you're here, Counselor," Bill said briskly. "I think we've got a case against this Marcus creep. It's gotta be against some kind of statute to lock up a guy with two bum arms."
He raised his blue slings, grimaced, and dropped his arms back to the the rumpled bedclothes.
"Look at the bright side, Bill," Pam said taking a seat in a square-cushioned chair at the foot of the bed. "At least you're symmetrical for once."
Bill scowled.
"That's real nice, Counselor," he said. "If that's your idea of a pep talk I'd stay away from the Suicide Hotline."
Ralph was still smiling as he looked back and forth between them. Bill finally glanced over and paused in the act of explaining to Pam why the nursing staff should be brought up on charges of over-bathing their patients.
"What are you grinning at?" he said, narrowing his eyes. "You enjoying my misery, too?"
Ralph's smile widened.
"You look great!" he said. "Especially for a guy that was doing a good impression of road kill yesterday."
"Yeah, well," Bill said, color rising in his cheeks. "Clean living and a pure heart. Works every time. What's that?"
Bill cocked his head at the bouquet in Ralph's hand.
"Flowers," he said, holding the daisies out for inspection. "From the kids. The card says 'Get well soon'."
"Original," said Bill, staring at the flowers. "I'll bet Villicana stole 'em out of the graveyard with his own two hands."
"They wanted to do something nice for you," Ralph said, glancing around the room for something that would serve as a vase. "Those kids really look up to you, Bill."
Bill barked a laugh.
"Yeah," he said, "As a future witness at their parole hearings."
Ralph rolled his eyes.
"Fine," he said, crossing the room. "I'll just put them over here by the window."
"Hold it," Bill said quickly. "They'll dry up over there."
He cocked his head at the table by the bed.
"Put 'em in that water glass," he said. "I can't pick it up anyway. I think Nurse Ratchett just put it there to torture me."
Ralph bit his lip to hide his smile as he moved back to the bed. He exchanged a quick look with Pam as he carefully arranged the flowers in the water glass.
"We could get you some crushed ice or something," Ralph said. "Pam, didn't you say you wanted to go to the cafeteria?"
Pam blinked at him.
"Uh, sure," she said slowly. "I need a cup of coffee. You want crushed ice, Bill?"
"Coffee," he said. "And lots of it. I'll pay you back when I can hold my wallet again."
"Bill," Ralph said with a meaningful look at the IV bottle standing on the other side of the bed. "I don't think you should have coffee when you're dehydrated. It's a diuretic."
Bill snorted.
"That's crazy," he said. "Coffee's just flavored water. It's good for you."
He looked at Pam as she stood up from the chair.
"Make it a double, sweetheart."
"Right," she said and looked over at Ralph. "I'm not arguing with him about it. He's old enough to make his own boneheaded decisions."
"Thank-" Bill broke off and narrowed his eyes.
"Coffee's not getting any hotter," he said grimly.
"I'm going," she said, crossing to the door. "Ralph, if you need me, I'll be… somewhere else."
She stepped out into the hall and shut the door.
Ralph lifted the tallest daisy out of the water glass and tore off the tip of the stem.
"Bill," he said, pushing the flower back into the center of the bouquet, "I wanted to talk to you for a minute alone."
"Really," Bill said. "Well, I never would'a guessed. You two were so subtle with your crushed ice and coffee scam."
Ralph looked over and saw Bill studying him narrowly. He heaved a sigh.
"Okay, Bill," he said. "I just wanted to say, you don't have to feel guilty about what happened in the desert."
"Glad you see it that way, too, kid," Bill said, turning to the TV mounted in the corner of the ceiling. "You think this thing gets cable?"
Ralph gritted his teeth.
"Okay," he said at last, speaking slowly and carefully. "Let's try this. I'm sorry I didn't realize you were missing for nearly a week."
"Don't sweat it," Bill said, peering down at the floor around the bed. "Most of the time, I didn't know I was missing myself. You seen the clicker for this TV?"
"Bill," Ralph said, his voice rising, "I know you're-"
He stopped. The big orderly's voice echoed in his mind. "You can't force it. Cool down."
Ralph exhaled.
"I know your clicker must be around here somewhere," he said, walking around the bed.
He spotted the thick black brick of the TV controller sticking out of the covers by Bill's feet. He dragged it out and pointed it at the screen.
"What do you want?" he said, looking over his shoulder at Bill.
Bill was staring at the TV.
"Uh," he said. "See if you can find the races."
Ralph started clicking through the channels. Behind him, he heard the bedclothes rustle as Bill lay back against the pillows.
"Thanks, kid," he said quietly.
--------------------
When Pam came back a half hour later they were watching a dozen horses pounding down a race track in Del Mar. She had a coffee cup in each hand and a folded newspaper under her arm.
"Is it safe?" she said, pushing the door open with her hip.
"No," Ralph said, getting up to take one of the cups from her hand. "Bill's still here."
"Hee-larious," said Bill. "If you guys want to cheer me up some more I've probably got a Band-Aid you can yank off really hard."
Pam grinned.
"Don't tease, Bill," she said. "You know how much I'd enjoy that."
"Um," Ralph looked from the coffee cup in his hand to Pam. "I don't want to spill it on him."
"I thought of that," Pam said, fishing in the pocket of her suit jacket. She held out a paper-wrapped straw. "Try this."
Ralph tore off the paper and dropped the straw into the cup. He leaned over the bed and held the straw up to Bill's mouth.
"If Nurse Leslie comes in," he said as Bill took a long pull at the straw. "You're both witnesses that I thought this was really old apple juice."
Bill released the straw and leaned back with a satisfied sigh.
"You got it," he said. "Counselor, I owe you one."
"At least one," Pam said as she sat back in the chair at the foot of the bed and opened her newspaper.
"Hey, Bill," she said after a moment. "There's something I'm not clear on."
She looked up from the newspaper.
"Who were those guys on the boat?" she said.
"Yeah," Ralph said as Bill took another drag at the coffee. "I was wondering that, too. They were Russian. That's all I know."
Bill released the straw and shrugged.
"A coupla fry cooks from the International House of Psychos," he said. 'Who knows?"
He leaned back toward the cup, but Ralph moved it away.
"Are you telling me," he said slowly, "That you have no idea who those men were or why they kidnapped you?"
"Not a clue," Bill said. "I probably just pissed off the right people in Stalingrad. I like to think my good work's having an effect."
"I don't believe you," Ralph said. "Who's Yavshinko, Bill? It sounded like he's the boss."
Bill sighed and relaxed back against the pillows.
"Ralph," he said, "I don't know who Yavshinko is. He could be head beekeeper at the Kremlin for all I know."
"But," he said, setting his jaw in a hard line, "Whoever he is, I hope he's having a really good time right now so he'll have some pleasant memories to look back on while I'm nailing his head to the floor."
--------------------
Many miles away, on a freighter out in the Pacific Ocean, the man known as the Doctor slipped off a pair of earphones and smoothed his neatly parted hair.
"We have received a new directive, my friend," he said to the hulking figure standing ready by the door. "We are now in search of the hero, Ralph."
Lugaz nodded. The wires holding his jaw together glinted in the afternoon sun shining in through the wide windows of the steering deck.
The Doctor stood and touched his fingertips to the swollen knot on his jaw as he crossed the room.
"We are instructed not to let anyone stand in the way," he said.
Lugaz pushed open the door and held it. The Doctor stopped in the doorway and turned back. A heavyset man with bushy gray whiskers jumped to attention under the Doctor's gaze.
"Captain," the Doctor said, "You will send word when we near California. Yavshinko wishes to meet us when we arrive."
"Yes, Doctor," the captain said quickly. "I'll see to it myself."
"Yes," said the Doctor. "Oh, and Captain, have all the injured men been taken to my sickbay?"
The Captain nodded sharply.
"As you ordered, Sir."
"Marvelous," said the Doctor with a tight smile. "I feel the need to… relax."
-end-
------------------------------------------
Author's Note:
Wow! You made it to the end and I love you for it. Once again, I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you, thank you, thank you for spending your valuable time with my story. You're awesome.
Yes, it's true – there's more to come! Why? Because it's there. Why can't you see it yet? Because, like so many things, it exists "in Potentia." That's a small town east of Pawtucket.
See below for more FAQs.
1. Who is Yavshinko? (A very bad man with a lot of time on his hands. Not a good combination.)
2. Is the Doctor really several bananas short of a bunch? (Actually, he replaced all of his bananas with mangos because he is c-r-a-z-y)
3. Is it possible to push Ralph too far? (Save this question for Yavshinko)
4. Is Bill really a Super Fed? (The Super-est. He is also the tough-est, the adorable-est, and many other –ests.)
5. Will Bill and Ralph continue to be mistaken for lovers? (Mistaken? Kidding! Sort of.)
6. Hey, what was with that alien guy in the first part? Wasn't that kind of random? (Oh, contraire, mon cher. Are there any coincidences in the universe, really? Here's another question: Is there ever only one member of an alien race? And: Didn't that ship seem a little like an escape pod? dun-dun-dunnn!)
7. I wanna see Tony Villicana cuz he is 2QUT4SKUL! (That wasn't a question, or even English at the end, so it will not be answered. But if it were answered, the answer would be "no." Sorry, I'm just not that into Tony.)
8. Everybody's getting bashed around, but Pam's gotten off scot-free so far. What's up with that? (Save this one for Yavshinko, too.)
9. Stuff the Ruskies! I want more aliens! (Again, not a question. But I like your moxie, so the answer is "yes.")
10. I'm a Whovian and the name of the character "the Doctor" keeps making me flash on long scarves and umbrellas. Couldn't you change his name to "Ted"? (I have the same problem. I thought about calling him the Valeyard, but… Did anyone get that? I can hear you breathing out there. No, really, it has to be the "the Doctor." I'm sorry, but there it is.)
Bonus question: Nobody said "scenario" in this story even once. Are you stupid or something? (Or something. I really tried to fit it in, but it always came out sounding corny. I'm sorry. I'll make up for it in the next one, I promise.)
and… Roscoe