It finally quieted down enough for John to fall asleep, but then he was awakened abruptly by shouting. Specifically, by Jerry shouting, "No, no, no."
"I gotta see this," John muttered to himself as he got to his feet and put on his gear. He was rubbing his eyes as he walked out toward the desk. "What's going on?"
"Raven's just scored another touchdown, man. It's Seventeen to nothing," Malik crowed.
John looked up at the TV, then at Dave's sour expression. "Cheer up, Malucci. Sometimes the losers get pretty good prizes."
Dave didn't get it. He didn't get why Carter was talking double meanings in front of everyone. He was sure that they'd get it. They weren't stupid. And he didn't get why the Giants didn't kick the Ravens' ass. And he didn't see how a game that should have been fun to watch had become so horrible. Then he looked up. The Giants had the ball. They were running, running. "Touchdown!" Dave leapt to his feet in celebration. Everything would turn out all right
John couldn't help but smile as he watched Dave celebrate the touchdown. He didn't want to ruin the moment by pointing out that the Ravens still had a pretty big lead and that it would be very difficult for the Giants to win. He could let Dave celebrate. The door to Exam 1 opened and Luka stepped out, blinking in the light.
"Game over yet?" he asked as he headed toward the lounge.
"Not yet," John replied. "They're in the third quarter." John was lucky enough to have heard the announcer say that.
"Mmmm." Luka said and then he disappeared behind the lounge door. Probably going for coffee, John thought. "Anyone want a cup of coffee?" John asked as he watched the Giants kick off the ball, and then his heart leapt into his throat as he saw a Ravens player catch it and run all the way to the goal line, scoring yet again.
"Yes!" Malik shouted, jumping up and down, then hugging Chuny and Lydia. "Yes, yes, yes." He spotted Carter. "Carter, my man, you are going to be one hundred dollars richer in about an hour from now! Twenty-four to seven, there is *no* way the Giants can come back from that. No way."
John looked over at Dave and smiled, then he settled into one of the wheelchairs. "Might as well watch them earn me some money," he said.
"Course they can." Dave scoffed. "That's only three touchdowns. Giants'll be able to do that real easy now they've got started. Cheating ref just put them off their stride that's all."
"That was back in the first quarter, Dave. If it takes them that long to recover then the game will be over by the time they're ready to make another touchdown." John said, laughing.
Dave made a face. "They're on their way now. Go Giants. Go. Go. Go."
John laughed. "I'm telling you, they'll never make it." And by the time the players flooded the field as the clock reached '0', John was proved right. Not only did the Giants *not* make another score, but they had been unable to prevent the Ravens from scoring twice more, with a final score of 34 - 7.
John clapped Dave on the shoulder. "Cheer up, Malucci, it's only money after all." John grinned as he held his hand out. "So pay up."
"Who won the pool?" Lydia asked as she looked at her numbers.
Jerry groaned. "I don't believe it. It can't be."
"Who?" Malik asked. "Weaver?"
"Kovac."
John laughed. "I think he fell back to sleep on the couch in the lounge. Someone should go and wake him with the good news."
Dave stared at the TV screen. He couldn't believe it. The Giants had lost. They'd lost big time. He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and stared at it. He had to pay up -- but he didn't have the money. Not in his wallet anyway. "The Giants were going to win."
John looked from the wallet in Dave's hand to Dave's face and heard the tone of his voice. He slowly grinned. "You don't have the money, do you, Malucci? Hey, guys, Malucci went and bet me a hundred dollars and now he doesn't have the money." John shook his head. "Now, let's see, when I lost my playoff bets to him, *I* paid up in a timely manner. I didn't even argue when I had to do his scut work, did I, Chuny?"
She laughed. "You didn't. He put the screws to you big time, Carter."
"Yes, he did," John agreed, locking his eyes on Dave's.
"Well, I think that turn about is fair play," Malik said. "If he doesn't have the money to honor the bet, then he'll have to find another way to pay you, won't he?" Malik walked over to Dave, shaking his head. "What do you say, Dr. Dave? Are you willing to work off your debt?"
John nodded his eyes still on Dave's. "Yeah, Dave. Are you willing to work off your debt? *All* of it?"
Dave turned his face toward Carter's. Carter's words penetrated his mind slowly, then he understood them. He owed Carter twenty-four hours of anything. Anything. Anything Carter asked for. And Carter wanted it to start right here right now. Dave felt his face turn bright, bright red. Carter couldn't want him to kiss him right here right now in front of all these people he couldn't. Dave felt frozen to the spot. He'd promised Carter *anything*.
John watched as Dave's cheeks, his entire face even, turned red. "I think we should give him time to think about it. In the meantime," John looked at Malik and grinned. "Maybe you, Jerry and Chuny could think of some things Dave could do for me. That is, *if* he can't come through with the money."
Malik and Jerry high-fived each other and Chuny smiled wickedly. She was the one who spoke. "Oh, I'm sure we can find a long list of things for Dr. Dave to do."
Dave found himself able to breathe as Carter's words sunk in. It wouldn't be right here, right now he was safe. Safe. Dave looked away from Carter. "It's fine. I've got it. Just need to get to the bank."
"Yeah, right. The bank. It's Sunday night, my man. What kind of bank is open now?" Malik asked. "I think if you're going to make Carter wait until tomorrow for his money then you owe him some kind of interest."
John nodded. "I think Malik's right. You owe me *some* interest for making me wait, Dave."
"Interest?" Dave stood up. He was in control here.
"Yes, Dave, interest. And I think it starts accruing right *now*," John said, still grinning.
"Oh come off it, Carter." Dave hoped he could bluff his way out of this one.
"No, I think it's only fair." John reached into his right front pocket and pulled out a wad of bills. "One hundred dollars, in twenties. *I* was prepared to pay you if the Giants had won. *I* didn't expect you to wait for payment, so why should I be inconvenienced by having to wait?"
"Carter's right, Dr. D., interest is only fair," Jerry said.
Dave looked around the gathered group. There didn't seem to be anyone on his side. "Fine. Interest. But without that call the Giants *would* have won." He just hoped that Carter wouldn't ask for anything awful. Carter couldn't. He just couldn't. He'd been hinting enough though.
John laughed. "Dave, they lost, THIRTY-FOUR to seven. They still would have lost if it had been thirty-four to fourteen. So quit your whining. Be a man, suck it up and admit that you got too cocky."
Dave stared at Carter. Cocky -- what did he mean by cocky? Why was he saying these things in front of everyone? It just wasn't right. "Whatever. So what's the interest?"
John looked over at his support group. "I don't know. What do you all think? Should it be money or labor? Maybe I should have him come out to the house to scrub our bathrooms? We've only got about ten of them."
Chuny laughed. "Labour. You've got enough cash Carter. Besides you can't put a price on Malucci scrubbing a toilet bowl."
Malik laughed too. "Labour. But here. Can't watch him at your place."
Dave looked over at Jerry, hoping for help. "You bet on the Giants, too."
Jerry grinned. "I paid up. Labour."
John looked thoughtful. "I guess labor, done here, would be good. But how much? One hour of labor for every day he's late paying?"
"I'm not late. It's in the bank."
Jerry nodded. "Coffee mugs in the lounge'll take a while. Better make it two."
John ignored Dave as he listened to Jerry. "Two hours for every day he's late then? Sounds reasonable." He turned to Dave. "I think that should do it. After all, Dave, a little hard work never hurt anyone, did it?"
Dave made a face. "Fine." At least Carter was focussing on this and not on making him do...other stuff here. That would be far worse. It was a sad day though when something was far worse than being made to clean out the slime in the bottom of the ER fridge -- or whatever it was that Carter would pick for him.
John laughed again. "You are such a sore loser. It's going to be such a joy to redeem this bet."
Carter was just teasing him. Dave knew that. "I'm gonna pay. The money's in the bank."
John quit laughing and looked directly at Dave. "I wasn't talking about the money, Dave. I was talking about just how sweet it's going to be to collect on the rest of it."
Why couldn't Carter just get to setting him some tasks instead of this taunting? If Dave'd won, he wouldn't have mentioned it at work -- not once. He was sure he wouldn't have. He hadn't *once* threatened to make Carter do *that* stuff at work when he'd won. Not once.
Patients began to filter in, some from bar fights, some from fights at private homes or apartments. But all were due to the Super Bowl. The staff worked steadily until midnight, and then gratefully turned over the reins to the next shift. John stood at his locker and glanced down the row at Dave. He wished they were alone in the lounge, but Luka was in there, happily counting out his money and bragging to Abby about how he'd won the big football pool while asleep.
"Hey, Malucci, since it's so late, how about if I drop you off on my way home? It's not out of the way and that way you don't have to ride your bike through the snow." John said as he put away his lab coat and grabbed his suit jacket. He grinned. "Besides, I have to protect my investment. I can't risk having you spin out on the ice, can I?"
Dave looked at Carter. The guy had been anything but kind to him since the game finished. He'd kept on hearing about the list that Chuny was making with disgusting tasks. And hearing double-edged references to the *other* part of the bet. And here was another one. Dave glanced nervously over at Kovac and Abby, trying to guess if they'd heard and understood.
Luka merely nodded at him. "Good idea, Carter."
Dave turned away. Didn't Carter get how dangerous this all was? All the same a warm jeep ride did seem a better than a snowy ride on a cold night -- especially as he'd have to go off his direct route to get to a money machine. "Sure. Okay."
John nodded, then he reached for his overcoat. "Great." He grabbed his bag and shut the locker door. "So, Luka, what are you going to do with all your winnings?"
"He'd better be taking me out to dinner," Abby said with a smile.
"But Abby, you didn't have anything to do with the bet. *I* picked out the numbers," Luka said. Abby stared back at him and he started to laugh. "It was a joke, Abby. I already had thought of taking you out someplace special."
John laughed. "I think you're making an excellent choice there, Luka. An excellent choice." He looked over at Dave. "You ready to go?"
"Sure. Just gotta get my bike. Where're you parked?" Dave pulled his jacket on as he headed for the door.
"So John, what will you do with your hundred dollars -- when you get it?" Abby asked.
"I don't know," John said, momentarily ignoring Dave's question. "I was thinking maybe some massage oil or something like that. But then I'll have to find someone to apply it. Got any suggestions?" He asked as he, too headed for the door.
Dave walked through the door. Carter had just fucking done it again. It wasn't right. Not right at all. He almost didn't care if he got the ride home or not. His bike was chained up in the ambulance bay. He'd go there, and if Carter hadn't bothered to say anything by then he'd just leave. Just leave.
Abby laughed. "Well, I think there's this x-ray tech that has a crush on you."
"Really?" John grinned. "Who?"
"Angela."
"No way."
Abby nodded. "I think she does."
"Well, that's a surprise. I'll keep her in mind. Thanks." John left the lounge and saw that Dave had left. He wasn't really upset was he? After all, Dave had ridden him mercilessly when *he* had won his bets. Payback was only fair. "There you are," John said as he saw Dave at his bike. "Want me to bring the Jeep over to you or do you just want to walk it to the car?"
"Whatever. Where is it?"
"In the parking garage. I got lucky this morning." John said. It had been great to pull into the parking garage and actually find a free spot for a change.
Carter just couldn't stop it -- could he? All shift it had been like that. So many comments. Dave finished unlocking his bike, and nearly got on it then and there to ride away, but he didn't. He turned it in the direction of the parking garage and started walking. *He* could be an adult -- or something -- even if Carter couldn't.
John fell into step behind Dave. "I can't remember the last time I was lucky enough to get a spot in the garage. It seems that most of the time I'm stuck out on the street. Hey, I think Chuny and them are just about finished with your list, but I think that if you play nice tonight, I won't make you do the worst of the things on it." John said.
Dave scowled as Carter spoke. Play nice? He couldn't believe Carter was blackmailing him over this, had been ever since the game ended. It just wasn't right. He speeded up his pace a little, and soon turned into the parking garage and peered around looking for the Jeep.
The outside lights were bright enough for John to see it when Dave scowled. Why was he in such a foul mood? Was he truly that upset over the Giants losing the Super Bowl? It just didn't make any sense to John. "I'm parked over there," John said when he saw Dave looking around. "Perk up, Dave, maybe the Giants will make it to the Super Bowl next year and even win."
"Yeah. Maybe." Dave stood by the boot and waited for Carter to open it so he could lift his bike in.
John frowned as he opened the back window, then lowered the tailgate. "When's your next day off?" He wanted to collect on the rest of the bet at a time when they were both away from work. When they had those twenty-four hours to themselves and didn't have to share them with anyone else.
"Thursday again." Dave lifted the bike into the back, then slammed it shut, and trotted around to wait by his door. He could do this. He could wait. He didn't need to tell every-fucking-single-person-in-the-entire-Chicago-area what they'd been doing. He could wait. And he would.
John thought for a moment, then went around to open the passenger door. "I'm not off then, but I think I can trade off with someone. I want our twenty-four hours to be spent at your place, and not a single bit of it at work, if I can arrange it, that is."
Dave scowled at Carter, then looked around the garage to try and see if anyone had heard. He couldn't *see* anyone, but that didn't mean anything. For all he knew the entire ER staff was trailing them to try and find out why Carter had been saying all those things for hours. Dave opened the door and got in, and slammed it shut.
John sighed as Dave practically slammed the door in his face. He walked around to his side and got in, wondering just what it would take to get Dave into a good mood. As he pulled out of the parking lot and into the street an idea popped into John's head. He smiled. "I was thinking of maybe wearing what I wore last Thursday. What do you think?"
Dave turned to Carter. They were moving now. Even if someone outside the Jeep heard they wouldn't know who it was and they'd be going too fast for anyone to hear much anyway. It was safe. "What the fuck do you mean by all that stuff? Getting lucky? Playing nice? Protecting your fucking investment? Massage oil?" Dave's memory ran out. "They're not stupid you know."
John's mouth dropped open as he listened to Dave's rant. After all he had to put up with when he lost his bets to Dave -- washing out bedpans for Christ's sake. That had been horrible. But had John complained? Hell, no. He had done it and he had listened to Dave picking on him without striking back. "You know what, Malucci? You're a sore loser. A very sore loser. And you owe me one hundred dollars and twenty-four hours of anything and everything I want, so yeah, I guess that does make you my 'fucking investment', because there's going to be as much of that as I can get away with come Thursday. You were all ready to lord it over me if the Giants won, well, here's a news flash, they lost. They lost big time. They sucked rotten eggs out there on the football field. And you, Dave Malucci will finally pay for all the humiliation you put me through when you won all those other bets."
"That's a load of fucking bullshit. I never told anyone about that stuff that happened. Not once. Never pretended to either. Just got you to do crap. And the Giants did NOT suck rotten eggs."
"I never said anything in there about sex, Dave. Never. Your problem is that...that you...you..." John bit off his remark, not wanting to argue with Dave.
"Not straight up you didn't. But you said enough. And you said it over and over and over. They'll figure it out. They will. And you started talking about that stuff in the garage too. People coulda heard."
"Dave, it's after midnight. We were the only people in the garage. And so what if they heard? Are you that ashamed of being with me?" John pulled to a stop at a red light and he looked over at Dave. "I wish I could have told everyone in there that we were a couple, that we were together, but I know you're not ready for that. And I didn't say anything that hasn't been said by any of us in the ER before. We joke like that all the time. Don't you think it would be *more* noticeable if I started to treat you differently?"
"You said it over and over and over." Dave stuck with what he knew. "And over."
John threw his hands up in the air. "Fine. Have it your way. It's just like you say, Dave. I'm a horrible person. I don't know why you even want to spend any time with me. But get this straight right now, I *am* claiming my twenty-four hours, and you *will* deliver, as promised. Or doesn't your word mean anything to you?"
Dave turned away and looked out the window. "There's a money machine there."
"Yep," John said. The light turned green and he accelerated. "That's exactly what it is."
"Stop. Could get that cash."
"Nope."
"What?"
"I'm not stopping, Dave. I said I'd drive you home and that's what I'm doing. If you want to go back to a money machine once there, then you can get on your bike and pedal to it. But I'm not stopping. I'm some kind of horrible person who treats you badly, making you look bad in front of your co-workers. Why would I be nice enough to stop so you can withdraw the money that you should have already had?"
"What? You're a bastard. Thought you wanted me to pay up?"
"I do. But, as you pointed out, I like to torment you. So just consider this more torment. After this is over you won't have to worry about any more torment from me."
"Oh, go to Hell." Dave slumped back against the seat. He could have tried jumping out -- but it wasn't worth breaking his leg to pay back a stupid bet.
"You really *are* a sore loser, you know that?" John said. They were nearing Dave's building and John started to look for a place to park.
"There was *nothing* in that bet about telling everyone at work. Nothing."
"I guess I missed the part where I stood in front of everyone and told them that part of our bet involved the winner being able to fuck out the brains of the loser. Of course, I'd probably get in trouble for that, but only because everyone knows you only have a few brains to begin with, and Weaver wouldn't want me to make you lose them." John finally found a spot about halfway down the block and he stopped and parked the Jeep.
"Go to Hell." Dave scrambled out of the Jepp, and headed round to the back to get his bike out. He half expected Carter to accelerate away as he was fiddling with the handle. He didn't get why he was being such a bastard. Besides, the Chief had given him a *good* evaluation. She had.
John walked around to the back of the Jeep and opened it up, then lifted the bike out, setting it on the slick pavement. He turned to close up the back, busy thinking about what he was going to do with the hundred dollars. The massage oil had only been half a joke -- it was a good idea. Maybe a book for Dave, one that John had found helpful -- "The New Joy of Gay Sex". And perhaps a few toys? He had also only been half-joking about wanting a butt plug -- the idea of something like that to hold in Dave's seed held a definite appeal for him. And there were other things he could buy for their pleasure. Dave had to let him use them and John wasn't thinking of getting anything *too* kinky. And some of the stuff John knew he wanted to make Dave use on *him*, so Dave certainly couldn't object to that.
Dave took the bike and wheeled it into the building. He wasn't going to look to see if Carter followed. He wasn't. He didn't care. Didn't care at all.
When John turned back around, Dave was already through the front door and he had to hurry to catch up to him at the elevator. "So, what's it going to take for me to get you out of this bad mood that you're in, Wombat?"
Dave stabbed at the button calling the elevator. Carter had come. He didn't know if that was bad or good, but he was shaking a little. "You can't say stuff like that at work."
"Whatever," John muttered, looking away. Then he looked around the lobby, saw they were alone and grinned as he looked back at Dave. "We're alone in here."
Dave saw the grin on Carter's face and looked around. It was a public place they were in, and he looked.... Just then the elevator binged its arrival, and Dave hurried inside it.