A week had passed. Janitor stayed at home during that time. J.D., Turk, Carla and I each paid visits to him to make sure he was comfortable and his needs were met. He just asked for someone to run an occasional errand, but still, as long as he's recuperating. It makes me very happy to see him sitting on the couch and watching TV, or even updating his tool box and fixing one of his many drills. The last thing I wanted to see was Janitor lying in bed and feeling just as bad as before.

I stood at the nurse's station one warm afternoon, hanging out with Laverne and Carla with some coffee while talking about our weekend plans. It was only four in the afternoon, but hey, we're doctors and nurses. We drink coffee by the gallon, with our odd sleep patterns that vary throughout the week. There are teenagers out there drinking those toxic energy drinks and no one says a thing. In my opinion, they don't need them since they choose to stay up late every school night.

"...so I'm stuck having to go to that Japanese restaurant with Goofus and Doofus." Carla said, finishing her story of her weekend plans with J.D. and Turk. "I have to babysit them and make sure none of them stick chopsticks up their noses."

"They'll find something else to do, just you watch." said Laverne.

"What could they possibly find-" said Carla until I interrupted her to prevent an argument from breaking out.

"-So Laverne, any plans for this weekend?" I asked, stirring some cinnamon into my coffee. I carry small packages of it with me. Lately, it's been helping me relax with the spicy taste and aroma. Makes me think of Halloweentime. I think of the good Halloweens I had experienced, not that one Halloween I spent being locked in my parents' pool house due to a prank my classmates played on me. I won't get into that story right now.

"Mmm-hm, Lester and I are going to that Italian restaurant over on Creaks Road tomorrow night." Laverne answered with a nod. She was sitting in a chair and had her coffee a few inches away so she wouldn't spill it on the computer she was working on.

"The Smoking Olive?" Carla asked, who was standing next to me. "That place has been open for at least three years, but lately, they've been getting some good reviews."

"All thanks to the New York Times food critic." finished Laverne.

I looked past Laverne and saw Tiffany from The Smoking Olive, walking alone in the corridors. She looked scared, her blue eyes were red and puffy, and her perfectly short hair was disheveled. Her white shirt had a few dirty smudges on it. She noticed me looking at her and she immediately rushed over to me.

"Hi, Doctor, um, I remember that you ate at the restaurant with your friends the other day and I heard you mention Sacred Heart to Lyle." she said quietly as she wrung her black sweater in her hands. I noticed that one of the sleeves was missing from it.

"Um, yeah, is there something wrong?" I asked worriedly. I knew something was wrong. Situations like someone getting sick or hurt bring out a different side in people. Tiffany portrayed herself as someone who was cold and tough, but today, she appeared weak and scared.

"Yes, I brought Lyle over here." Tiffany replied in a quivering voice. "He was shot."

My jaw dropped open. But I knew that I couldn't just stand there. I had to go do something. "Where is he?" I asked frantically.

"He's in the ER. He asked for Dr. Dorian or Dr. Reid." said Tiffany. "So I searched the hospital for you and that slick haired doctor who tried to ask me out. I did find him, but he was too busy being stupid outside sitting on someone's shoulders and wearing a really long labcoat."

Damn J.D. and his World's Most Giant Doctor! Always picking bad times to do that! "Okay, Tiffany, stay here and have a seat. I'm going to go check on Lyle." I said as I began to rush over to the ER. People don't normally ask for certain doctors. You get who you get. But in Lyle and Tiffany's case, it's going to be me, since Lyle liked both me and J.D very much.

A short man with gray and white hair who was dressed like Dr. Kelso (also wearing the white lab coat) poked out of the ER and gestured his hand to me. "Dr. Reid!" he yelled. "You have a patient here requesting for you!"

I caught up to the man and walked into the ER. "Dr. Schwartz, what happened?" I asked.

"We have a 22-year-old man who was shot in the arm over at the Smoking Olive." Dr. Schwartz explained as we walked. "He says that he was leaving the restaurant when two men tried to enter the restaurant with guns in their hands, but he blocked them. That was when they shot him and then the girl outside in the hall sprayed them with pepper spray."

"Were those guys ever apprehended?" I asked.

"They were, thanks to the pepper spray that set them back." replied Dr. Schwartz, leading me to a curtain and stopping.

He pulled the curtain back to reveal Lyle, once again wearing a hospital gown, but this time having his upper right arm wrapped up in dressings. He smiled a tiny at me. I felt a rush of relief to see him only with the dressings. Things could have been much worse, I just can't go into detail.

"We managed to get the bullet out. Any deeper and we would have had to perform some surgery on him." Dr. Schwartz finished.

I thanked him and I pulled the curtains to give us some privacy.

"Hey, Dr. Reid," he said in a small voice. "Where's Dr. Dorian?"

"Oh, he's preoccupied outside." I answered. Right when I said that, J.D. came wobbling by the window (we're on the second floor), smiling and waving his hands.

"Hey, Elliot!" he said with a wide grin on his face. "I'm the World's Most Giant Doctoorrrrrrr!! WHOAAA!!"

He went down with a crash and I could hear him yelling, "You call that being the legs, Nic?"

I snickered and Lyle just continued to smile. "I guess that's why Tiffany didn't want to go out with him," he said. His smile disappeared and he breathed a sigh.

"Is everything alright?" I asked, pulling out a pen from the pocket of my scrubs. "Do you need some painkillers?"

"It's not that," replied Lyle. "It's Tiffany. I've always had a crush on her and she's never noticed. I've been trying to work up the courage to ask her out. I just realized that I could have died today and I would have never had a chance with her."

I put the pen back in my pocket, pulled up a chair and sat right next to his bed. "Well, you're a lucky one. You survived a gunshot wound." I said.

"I was just told that I may have limited use of my right arm, so I may have to leave my job at The Smoking Olive." Lyle continued in a sad voice. "I get to meet the most interesting people there. Like this one guy who plays tennis against his own mother. A real picky eater. You know that he asked for fettucine alfredo with no white sauce? It's not fettucine alfredo without the white sauce!"

I cracked up. The man that Lyle was describing rang a bell. I knew who that was. Mr. Korman, the guy who recently tried to sue Turk. It's a funny story, but I'm not going to go into it right now.

"Yeah, we have a lot of funny people at my work," Lyle concluded as my laughter disintegrated. "And I love everyone at my job. They've been so good to me."

I put my hand on Lyle's good shoulder. "I'd feel the same if I had to leave Sacred Heart." I said. He's right. Even though everyone who works here can be such jerks and so annoying, I still love them all. And they love me enough to keep me here and continue to pay me for the work I do, despite all the screw ups I've done. "I'm going to go check on Tiffany and see how she's doing."

I drew the curtains again and went out to the hallway, where my intern Crystal was giving her some coffee.

"Oh, do you have any hazelnut creamer?" Tiffany asked.

"Yeah, let me go get you some," said Crystal, a girl slightly younger than me with long brown hair, side bangs, glasses, and wore blue scrubs. She walked away. Tiffany saw me as I approached her and sat next to her in the other chair.

"I asked her to get me some coffee," she explained.

"Oh, that's fine. I used to get coffee for people all the time when I was an intern," I said, waving my hand. "So how are you feeling?"

"Did you get any word on Lyle?" asked Tiffany, continuing to stir her coffee.

"He just has a broken arm, he'll be fine," I answered. "But he'll have limited use of it. The bullet hit a nerve that gave him control of it. He may have to quit his job at The Smoking Olive."

Tiffany was silent. "He has to quit being a waiter?" she asked with her voice trembling.

"Well, there's a chance that he'll fully recover from it." I finished. "Don't worry, he'll be fine."

Tiffany looked down at the ground and at her black shoes. "I was going to give him some special strawberry chocolates today." she said. "I ordered them all the way from Japan, but I dropped them when I pepper sprayed those jerks."

"Oh, you don't want to give those to him!" I said quickly. "He's allergic to strawberries. It's how he ended up here in the first place."

"Huh. I thought he had a seizure." said Tiffany. "David told me that, but that's another thing. I like Lyle for so many reasons. He's the smartest, most honest, and the best waiter The Smoking Olive's ever had. He just talks too much sometimes. All the other waiters fool around way too much and act like little kids."

"But they are kids," I pointed out.

"Some of them are eighteen years old, but our oldest waiter is thirty-five and he still thinks he's one of the young guys." Tiffany said before taking a sip from her coffee. "I started off as a waitress about a year ago, and working with Lyle were some of the best times I ever had there. When they promoted me to the greeter and reservation holder, I was reluctant, but it was a higher pay raise. I just stopped getting tips. It was better than walking around the whole day and dealing with old guys who think you're 'such a doll,' whiny customers who didn't want their food to be made with olive oil and people saying that if our restaurant was called 'The Smoking Olive,' then why can't they smoke?"

I nodded. "I agree with you there. You know how many guys I've had to deal with that tried to pinch my ass several times?" I asked, feeling anger rise inside of me. Just thinking about them makes me so...ughhh!!

Tiffany just stared at me with an odd look on her face. I'm used to it, seeing that I always get looks like that all the time, even from my own friends.

"Look, the point is, Lyle may have to quit, but he still wants to see you." I said, trying to stay on the topic.

Tiffany looked up. "What?" she asked in a surprised voice.

"He was working up the courage to ask you out." I explained. "He told me that just now. It makes him sad just thinking about the unthinkable happening and he'd have had no chance to ask you out."

Tiffany smiled for the first time in my presence. She has a pretty smile. "He really said that?" she asked.

I nodded and grinned. "I'm not kidding!" I said.

Right then, Crystal came back with some small containers of creamer. "Here you go," she said, handing them to Tiffany.

"Thanks!" said Tiffany in a more cheerful voice as she took the creamers. Crystal walked off to go do some tests on a patient.

"You sound good cheerful." I complimented.

"Well, I have to put on the cold and tough girl act for a reason." Tiffany explained as she opened the creamers and poured them into her coffee. "I just worry that Lyle didn't like me because of it." She paused. "Hey, are you dating anyone?"

I sighed fondly. "No, sadly, not right now." I replied. Suddenly, I pictured Janitor. I just remembered that he was still at home. I had gotten him some homemade chicken noodle soup early this afternoon. I don't normally cook on my own, but I heard that homemade food is made with love. He smiled at me and thanked me not just for the soup, but for everything I've done for him. He even invited me to eat with him, but I couldn't. I had to get over here as soon as I could. A smile creeped onto my face as I thought more and more about Janitor.

"Really?" Tiffany said thoughtfully. "I thought that tall guy you were sitting next to that one day was your boyfriend."

That took me by surprise. Are people starting to notice that I have feelings for Janitor?

"He's handsome," Tiffany credited. "I say go for him before some other lady snatches him up."

Right then and there, my pager beeped. "Could you excuse me?" I asked, taking out my pager and reading it. Uh-oh. This can't be good. I stormed over to the ER doors and ran over to where Lyle was. He had fainted and was now unconscious. "What's going on?"

"I think he lost too much blood." answered a nurse.

I took a good look at him. His skin was pale and right where his cast was, there was a big bloody splotch. He bled right through the dressings. I opened his eyelid, turned on the tiny flashlight to look into them, and saw that his pupils were dilated.

"He needs a blood transfusion, stat!" I yelled to the nurse while I turned off the flashlight and began to remove the dressings.

She nodded and rushed to get a pouch of blood. I raised his bed a little more, took some gauze, and applied pressure to stop the bleeding...

We were able to stabilize Lyle twenty to thirty minutes later. The blood transfusion was working, since the color was returning to his skin and his pupils were returning to normal. I breathed a sigh of relief and took off my gloves. I asked the nurses to take him over to the ICU and admit him. I walked outside to the hallway, where Tiffany was still sitting outside, biting her manicured nails.

"Tiffany?" I asked.

Tiffany stood up and walked over to me. "Is everything alright?" she asked.

I took a deep breath. "Apparently, Lyle was still bleeding from his wound." I began. "He lost a lot of blood, which caused him to lose consciousness, but we were able to get him back to normal. We had to redress his wound and give him a transfusion, but we expect him to wake up soon."

Tiffany nodded as tears spilled from her eyes. She wiped them away. "I was hoping my sweater sleeve would help stop the bleeding." she spoke up. She unfolded her sleeveless sweater. "See? I tore off one of the sleeves to make a tourniquet."

"It did help him." I said. "I guess the nurses didn't put the dressings on right. They're supposed to take him to the ICU."

Right then, the double doors opened and two nurses carted Lyle out. He was awake.

"Lyle!" Tiffany exclaimed, running over to him. "Hey, how are you doing?"

"I'm okay." he replied weakly as the nurses continued to move him. "I can't really feel my arm and I think I passed out because I don't remember what happened half an hour ago. Where are they taking me, Dr. Reid?"

"You're going back to the ICU." I replied. "I'll check back with you later tonight, okay?"

Lyle smiled and closed his eyes. Tiffany flashed me a smile. "Thank you, Dr. Reid!" she yelled.

I smiled back at them. "You're welcome," I said. "And don't call me Dr. Reid! Call me Elliot!"

"Alright, Elliot!" Tiffany yelled as they entered the elevator and the doors swallowed them up. I smiled and began to walk to the other elevator.

It made me think about Janitor and how I was when he was sick. I was so overcome by sadness and devastation...just like Tiffany was with Lyle. It helped them to express their love for each other. Maybe it's about time that I finally admitted to Janitor about my feelings for him. I realized that I find joy in working with Janitor. I love to see him out there in the halls, mopping up whatever someone either threw up or spilled...he always played a prank on J.D. when he made me mad...he stands up to Dr. Kelso and defends me...maybe those are signs. I'm just worried that Janitor may not be feeling the same way about me.