Chapter Two:
Dr. Angel McKenna gave a longing gaze toward the lumpy, hard couch that inhabited one corner of the doctor's lounge. It was a piece of furniture that he had intimate knowledge of, having spent many long nights trying to get comfortable enough on it for a nap. Tonight though, he didn't think it would take too much. This had been a killer of a week. A flu bug was keeping a lot of the staff at home, leaving them at a skeleton crew. Which was not a good thing for a major metropolitan hospital. With his iron constitution, Angel had been immune to this virus and had ended up working doubles all week.
Not that he was going to complain about the money he was pulling in from it though. There were school loans he'd almost-finally-paid off, rent, and what he was trying to put aside for the little house he'd found just outside of time and that all ate up most of his salary. And to think his parents had wanted him to become a octor so that he would never know the scrimping and saving as they'd had ... that was laughable.
Angel shook his head, clearing the cobwebs, and went back to work on updating files. Paperwork sure was a pain in the ass.
Angel signed the last form he needed to, glanced overat the clock, then started over to the hard couch in the corner. He had about an hour free and a power nap sounded pretty amazing right about now.
Angel laid down, beating a spring that wanted to pop up into his back, set the alarm on his cell phone and closed his eyes. He sighed, pleasure seeping through him at just being able to lay still for a while, to relax. And he was just this side of sleep when he heard his name being paged over the loud speaker, a code following alerting him that he was needed in Emergency.
Cursing only took up more time and energy, but Angel did a little of it anyway as he grabbed is white coat off of the back of the chair he'd been sitting it. He scooped up his stethoscope to hang around his neck and was out the door before the page repeated.
Angel pushed through the heavy double doors that kept the Emergency area separate from the rest of the hospital and turned through another set of doors that took him over to the curtained areas. He noticed a police officer standing at attention outside one of the cubicals. He was about to swing in there when a nurse caught his attention.
"Dr. McKenna. Curtain three please."
He was the diminutive figure that was surrounded by hospital personnel and thought they had a child at first. Then he grew closer and the curves and swells of a nicely built female made themselves known under the light sheet she was currently covered with. Angel pushed closer, angling so he was next to her and looked down.
Thick blonde hair was cut to curve next to her face in whisps that seemed to point toward huge emerald colored eyes. Her brows arched above them, currently drawn together in pain. She had a pretty face, smooth skin, a lush mouth completing the picture. A nasty sweeling bruise marred her porcelain skin across one cheekbone and down to the corner of her mouth. There was a gash just above on of her temples that had bled down onto her face. One nurse was cleaning that, another was taking her vitals.
"Doctor, this is Buffy Summers. Her blood pressure is 128 over 88, her pulse 76. She was in a car accident." The nurse made a tsk tsking sound. "She wasn't wearing a seat belt."
"Well, now, Miss Summers. Let that be a lesson to you." Angel leaned over and played a pen light over her eyes, calling out his findings as he did his exam.
Angel was a well loved member of the Emergency room. At least by most of the nurses. Even the ones who didn't like him at least respected him for the job he did. He was known for his courtesy towards the nursing staff and a genuine acknowledgement of appreication for the jobs that they did. That alone made him a favorite. Then add into that a tall, muscled body, thick dark hair and melted chocolate eyes that gleamed with intelligence. He had strong cheekbones and a strong jaw. When he smiled, white teeth flashed and women had been known to take third and fourths looks his way. He was known to get lots of cookies and other types of goodies from the ladies he cared for. Be them old or young. Angel McKenna treated everyone the same.
And now, he beamed his famous smile down at Buffy. "We're going to get some xrays done, Buffy. And then I am going to have you admitted to the hospital. Only overnight," he added at the look he saw in her eyes.
"Can't you just give me something for the pain, slap a band aid on me and let me go? I have work to do." Buffy dated hearing the whine and weakness in her voice ... but she hated hospitals a whole lot worse.
"How about we make a deal?" Angel took her hand, slid his down to her wirst and checked her pulse himself. "We go get those xrays done, stitch up that forehead of yours, and we can just go from there?" And while he waited for her to answer, an answer that he had no intention of paying attention to anyway, he signaled to one of his nurses.
The nurse put down the shoe that she had been toying with and went to a phone against the wall. She picked it up and made the arrangements for Buffy to be shipped down to xray.
The shoe on the tray caught Angel's eye. It had a spiked heel, was a least four inches of that said heel, with an intricate weave of straps. The size of it was tiny. And it was shoe made to imply sex. Was it a shoe this young woman had been wearing? He studied her face, feeling intrigued. She just didn't strike him as the type who would want to twist her feet up in a shoe like that. But then again, what the hell did he know about types?
"I don't know how I am getting anything out of that deal," Buffy said. She felt tired and she hurt. All she wanted to do was have people stop poking and prodding at her, to go home to her tiny apartment and go to bed. A few hours of sleep and then she would be fine. She would be ready to go, to do her reports, take their suspect into interrogation and to break him. And she almost smiled at the thought of sitting across from him, of winning.
"Well, Buffy, I am not calling up to request a room for you right away. I am going to let these nurses get you all unstrapped from this contraption and sent down to xray. I don't think anything is broke, especially since you wiggled all the right extremities at all the right times." Angel smiled down at her, pushing the hair out of her face, away from the gash that was still leaking blood.
Yummy, Buffy thought. With a smile and a face like that she knew he could be making some serious money in front of a camera. More than behind a stethoscope. He was tall, tanned, dark and looming. All of that added up trouble for her.
Buffy let out a sighed. She was more tired and hurt than she'd thought if she was going to be having those kind of thoughts. Maybe she could just lay here, let them poke at her. Just until she was sure her brain wasn't completely scrambled anyway.
Hands were unbuckling straps and pulling away blocks when he walked away from her. He patted her small foot in passing and turned as the sheet was pulled off of her. Normally patients were in hospital gowns when he reached this area, but the back board and straps that had kept her immobile had hampered the nurses somewhat, so he'd arrived before they could change her.
Angel's eyebrows winged up at the sight of her slender legs, the tiny leather skirt that was ripped at the side, showing off a lot of smooth skin and a firm stomach that disappeared beneath another piece of leather. This one was almost too miniscule to hide her breasts underneath. The shoe had been a surprise, this outfit a shock. And as he walked away, the imaged stayed in his mind, making him grin a little.
He was heading toward another curtain, getting ready to stop by the uniform standing outside of it when he was stopped by the floor's largest nurse, one he secretly referred to as Nurse Tackle, stopped him. "That girl who was in the car accident? Her man is out in the waiting room. Wanted me to let you know."
Angel thanked her then glanced into the curtained room as he walked by. A huge man was sitting silently on the gurney, his hands cuffed to the bed rails. He just sat there, staring out with eyes that had all the warmth of a shark. Every few seconds he seemed to lift his hands and shook them, making the cuffs rattle and clang against the metal of the rails. He seemed to sense Angel's presence and stopped for just an instant, long enough to lock a gaze in with the doctor. Then he was back to staring off into space.
Angel turned away, heading out to talk to this man of Buffy's. Who was he? Husband? Brother? Pimp? Lover? He wondered to himself.
If she were a prostitute like her outfit would suggest, he knew she was just wasting herself out there on the streets. With that face, beautiful as she were, and with the body of a siren ... she could charge what she wanted, when she wanted. She could be set up some place like New York catering to all the rich, all the famous men. If this was going to ber pimp out here, she sure needed to find herself a new manager.
Angel pushed through the doors to the waiting room and stopped dead. He'd expected a single man to be sitting out here, waiting, but the room looked liek a coffee shop at shift change. There were more cops in here than he could ever remember seeing at one time before.
One man got up upon seeing him. He pushed through the crowd od cops who became eerily quiet when they saw the scrubs. "How is she?" he asked when closer.
Angel noticed the blood still on this man's hands. The scratched he'd had to have gotten in the accident. And then it all clicked. She had to be a cop, an undercover cop. And that made him grin. "She's fine," he started. "Buffy is very unhappy to bere though. I'm sending her down for some xrays but from what I can tell, the most she had is a minor concussion, some bumps and bruises. I'm concerned about the bruise on her side, just wanting to make sure there's no cracked ribs. And we're going to be keeping her for some observation."
"But she is okay?" Riley just needed to hear the words.
"You are?" Angel asked.
"I'm her partner, and I'm about the only thing she has like family around here."
Angel nodded. "She'll be fine. I want to give her some time after the xrays and then we're admitting her."
"Can I see her?"
"After she gets back from xray. I will send someone out here to get you."
Riley grabbed his hand, shaking it enthusiastically. Then he turned to the waiting room and said to everyone "Told you all, she's too damn stubborn to be hurt too bad."
Angel smiled at the subdued cheer that went through the waiting room. Before he could turn though, his arm was grabbed.
"There was a man brought in, right before Buffy. How's he doing?"
"The man cuffed to one of our beds?"
Riley nodded.
"Haven't gotten to him yet, but he's next in line. I will let you know." Angel accepted the card Riley handed him and then left the waiting room. He hurried back to the ER and nodded at the uniform in the doorway.
The man sitting on the gurner had a large bump on his forehead, his nose was a bloody mess, and he didn't ackowledge his presence. He just contined to stare, rattle his cuffs.
Angel picked up the file that had been started on the man. It contained some basics such as the information that could be taken off of a driver's license and not much else. "Mr. Walsh," Angel said in greeting, glancing again at the sketchy file.
The man didn't as much as look at him.
Angel got closer, taking out his pen light to look at the man's pupils. "Do you have a headache?" He got no answer but a rattle and clank. Angel marked down what he saw in the file. He could have a nurse in here, an orderly or even an intern but he didn't trust this guy. Thre was just something in his eyes when he looked at you. Angel gently pushed the flesh around the bruised eyes, checking for breaks then cleaned up his nose and bandaged cuts and bruises he had.
All without a single sound for the patient.
He couldn't blame the uniforms inside the curtain for the nerves rolling off of them. They were standing on either side of the gurney, hands resting lightly on their guns.
"Do you have any pain, Mr. Walsh?" Clank, rattle in response. Angel sighed. "Alright then, Adam. I can't do anything more for you if I don't know what hurts." Clank, rattle. Angel started picking up the tray that had some bloody guaze on it and started to walk away.
"Doctor."
Angel turned back, setting the tray down on the counter closest to the entrance. "Yes?"
"I have broken my right forearm."
Angel called for a nurse to get someone from xray to come up here with a portable machine. He would do the film himself rather than put one of his people in harm's way.
After the pictures were taken, involving lead vests for himself and both of the cops in the room and removing one of the cuffs. He got to work in setting the break and casting the arm. When he went to inject his patient with a local anesthetic, the man stopped him. "Okay," he said, "But I warn you, this is going to be painful."
Angel set the arm, hearing the man let out a grunt. He looked up to see a smile that was almost feral in nature on his face. Angel brushed it off, continuing with the cast.
Angel was setting aside the last of the tape and turning from the patient when he heard a grunt. A hand came out and wrapped around his neck the best it could, fingers wrapping around his throat and squeezing. "Tell them to unlock the other cuff, Doctor. I really don't want to, but I am fine with ripping your throat out."
Angel glared. The officers in the rool pulled their weapons out. "Let him go."
"Unlock the cuff and I will walk out of here. I will let the good doctor go as soon as I am away."
"Not going to happen. Let him go."
Angel could see the bigger of the two cop's finger on the trigger of his gun. The huge thing looked capable of putting a hole the size of a cannon ball in someone.
Just then, Nurse Harmony Kendall, who was a beautiful, big breasted blonde who was good at her job but otherwise a walking bubblehead walked past the doorway carryng a metal tray of instruments. She glanced in, curious to what all the gossip in the cafeteria was about. She gsaw the guns, the drop dead handsome Dr. McKenna with a hand on his throat. And Harmony did what any good bubblehead would do when confronted with such a situation. She dropped the tray with a huge clang, slapped both hands to her cheeks like that kid in Home Alone, and sh let out a shriek that could be heard in the employee parking lot on the other side of the building.
And then, of course, she fainted.
As soon as she dropped the tray, Angel felt the fingers on his Adam's Apple loosen. When she had screamed, he pushed on the large hand on him, plowing one ightly fisted hand into the man's groin. Then he turned, and using the forward momentum of his foe, plowed a fist into the other man's face. He felt the satisfying crunch of the already broken nose shatter all the more.
Adam Walsh fell to the floor. He slumped, unconscious. His manacled wrist was still secured to the bed rail.
Angel backed away as the police came forward and rigged a new cuff to fit over the cast Adam Walsh now wore. He started to go for Harmony but saw one of the orderly's picking her up and a nurse stacking the instruments back onto the tray she'd been carrying. So instead, he found the rolling stool nearby and took a seat. Adrenaline was making his pulse race. He looked down at his bruised knuckles and smiled. "I haven't done that since college." He cleared his throat and shook his hand carefully making a fist. "I forgot how much it hurts."