Time was playing games with him. A fast paced morning,
followed
by a slow paced afternoon. A sigh, followed by the wish for someone to
tell him how his two men were doing. He looked around the
waiting
room. The TV was on in the corner, showing cartoons for one
bored
teenager, and magazines were rustling as adults tried to occupy
themselves, waiting to hear about a loved one or a friend. He
wasn’t the only one waiting for news.
Another sigh, wishing this time for a book to read. Something
to
distract his mind. Something other than women’s
magazines
or a crass cartoon show. There was nothing.
The accident had been caused by an arrogant business man. Too busy to
stop for a red light, he had tried to run it instead. And had
crashed into Jim’s truck. So here he was, waiting
for news
on two of his men, in hospital thanks to one man’s
impatience. The man in question was reasonably fine; shaken,
shocked and probably going to suffer from whiplash for a
while.
He had been booked for reckless driving. Jim’s
injuries
were more severe, but that was all he knew. No news on anyone
else, not yet.
A third sigh escaped. Henri and Rafe had offered to come
down,
but they were working a big case that was close to breaking, so he had
told them to keep on with that. He had promised to ring when
he
had news though.
Megan, too, had wanted to come down, but he had asked her to contact
family and friends. No doubt she would be down as soon as she
had
done that. Maybe that would be a good idea, she could help him with
family when they arrived. He wasn’t looking forward to that,
and
hoped he would at least have some information to give by
then. He
hoped he would have some information soon for himself.
As if someone had read his mind, a doctor appeared and called his name.
“I’m Captain Banks. What can you tell me
about my men’s conditions?”
“I’m Dr Taylor, and I’m in charge of
Detective
Ellison. I don’t know about the other patient, but
I’ll see if I can find out anything for you. What I
can
tell you, is that Detective Ellison’s injuries
weren’t as
severe as first feared. In fact, he has been quite lucky, all
things considered. He has a concussion. It
doesn’t
appear too bad, but we’ll be keeping him an eye on it all the
same. He also has a broken leg and arm, both clean breaks,
and
two cracked ribs, with the others being badly bruised.
Otherwise,
he has a lot of bruises and some cuts, but nothing serious.
We
were worried about internal bleeding, but have found no evidence of
that. He will be in some pain for a while and have limited mobility, so
we’ll be keeping him in for a few days at least.”
Simon sighed, this time in relief.
“So, he’s going to be okay?”
“I’d say so, but he won’t be a happy
camper for a while.”
“I think we can all live with that, given the
alternatives,” Simon smiled grimly.
“Well, I’ll go and check with my colleagues and see
what I
can find out for you about, Captain Taggert, is it?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
The doctor left, and Simon was about to find a phone when a
mini-cyclone of flannel and hair entered the waiting room, zeroing in
on him straight away.
“Simon! How’s Jim? And Joel? Any news
yet?”
“The doctor’s just been out about Jim.
He’ll be
okay, though he’s not going to be happy for a while
yet. I
don’t know about Joel, the doctor has gone to see what he can
find out for me.”
“Jim’s gonna be okay? You
sure?”
“Yes, Sandburg. He’s got a broken leg and
arm, two
cracked ribs, a concussion and a lot of bruising, but nothing life
threatening.”
“Oh man, that’s great. I mean,
considering the
alternatives,” Blair sighed in relief. “I hope
Joel’s
gonna be okay as well.”
“We’ll just have to wait to find out. How
did you get
here so fast? I thought you were lecturing at some big
conference
at Rainier, and wouldn’t be contactable until this
evening?”
“Megan managed to contact the organisers, and they let me
know. Professor Stone, who was due to be lecturing tomorrow,
stepped in to do the rest of today’s lectures.
I’ll
have to be there tomorrow to give the last of mine.
It’s a
good job that everyone is booked to attend all the sessions, so the mix
up shouldn’t be too disruptive for the attendees.
Man,
there’s no way I could have concentrated once I heard about
the
accident. Has anyone mentioned Jim’s allergies to
the
doctors? I’d better go do
that…”
“Sandburg! Breathe, won’t you?
And yes,
I’ve mentioned that he has allergies, and the staff assured
me he
wouldn’t be given any medication without checking his medical
records first. He’ll be fine.
It’s not like
it’s the first time they’ve had to deal with
him.”
“No. No, I guess not.”
“I’m sure we’ll be able to see him in a
short
while. He’ll probably want to go home, but
he’s going
to have to be in for a few days, at least.”
“Oh boy, that’s not gonna be a pretty
sight!
He’s gonna be a real grouch! I don’t envy
the nurses,
man.”
Simon smiled.
“Neither do I, Sandburg, neither do I. But
I’m sure
they’ll cope. Now, I’d better let the bullpen know
that
Jim’s going to be okay. I did promise to ring as
soon as
there was any news.”
“Okay.”
Simon was about to leave, when Dr Taylor re-entered the waiting room
and headed over to him.
“Captain Banks?”
“Yes, do you have any news on Captain Taggert?”
“Yes. It seems that Captain Taggert has a broken
arm and
various bruises. Fortunately, the car hit them side on, and
Captain Taggert was on the side that wasn’t hit.
I’m
sorry it has taken so long to get the information to you, but things
have been rather manic today. Anyway, Captain Taggert is just
having his arm set, and then can be released to go home.”
Both Simon and Blair sighed in relief.
“Thank you for letting us know. Can you let Captain
Taggert
know that there’ll be someone waiting to take him
home?”
“Yes, I’ll do that. Once again, apologies
for the delay.”
The doctor left, just as Megan and Joel’s wife entered the
waiting room.
“I’ll ring the bullpen, whilst you give them the
news,” Blair offered.
“Fine.”
----------------
A Few Hours Later
“Hey, Jim, what do you think you’re
doing?” came
Blair’s voice from the doorway to Jim’s hospital
room.
Jim paused in his efforts to get up from his bed.
“I’m going to get myself signed out of
here,” he growled.
Blair rolled his eyes.
“Jim, you need to stay in. I mean, look at
you? You
can’t even get up without help, and I bet it hurts like
crazy.”
“I’m going to go home,” Jim answered in a
belligerent tone.
Blair sighed. This was not going to be fun.
“You’re not coming home until you’re
released by the
doctors. You sign out AMA and you’ll get no help
from me
when you get home. None.”
“I don’t need your help,” said Jim, as he
struggled to get upright.
“Oh sure,” Blair watched Jim’s struggles.
“You’re doing really well at getting up on your
own,
aren’t you? And how are you gonna manage to do
anything
with both your left leg and arm in plaster, not to mention your poor,
abused ribs?”
Jim laid back, exhausted by his futile efforts, and panting against the
pain.
“You wait until the doctors let you go, and I’ll
give you
all the help you need. And you might want to turn that pain
dial
down some, whilst we’re at it.”
Jim scowled, but realised that Blair was right. As much as he
hated hospitals, he knew he couldn’t manage on his own.
He’d been hoping to have signed himself out before Blair had
arrived so that Blair wouldn’t have known it had been against
medical advice, and would have been willing to help Jim, without Jim
needing to acknowledge his need for that help. After all, a
man
had to have some pride, right? And he really did hate
hospitals.
A lot.
Just then, Simon entered the room.
“Hi, Jim, how are you feeling?”
“Frustrated. Not to mention oppressed.”
“Oppressed?” Simon raised his eyebrow.
“Because I won’t help him if he goes home against
medical advice,” Blair said, with a smirk.
“Oh. Sounds reasonable to me.”
“Thanks,” muttered Jim, darkly.
“On a happier note, you’ll be glad to know that the
garage
reckon they can repair your truck, though it might take a
while.
Not that you’ll be driving anytime soon, anyway.
Going to
cost a packet, though.”
“Great.” Jim winced at the thought of the cost.
“At least this time you can get the other guy’s
insurance
to pay. That’ll make a nice change for
you,” he
continued, with a smirk.
“Simon, with all due respect, why don’t you
go…”
“Ah, ah, ah. Don’t go there,
detective.” Simon put on his best
‘captain’ look.
Blair laughed.
“Don’t know why you’re laughing,
Chief?” Jim
muttered. “I’ll just borrow the Volvo if need
be.”
“Uh, uh, no way, man. You want to go somewhere,
then
I’ll play taxi driver, but you’re not driving my
car. No
way! Besides, you won’t be driving for a few weeks
anyway,
and I’m sure that ‘sweetheart’ will be
back by
then.”
“Sweetheart? Jim, tell me you don’t call
your truck ‘sweetheart’?”
Blair nodded. Jim blushed. Simon laughed.
“If you tell anyone, I’ll have to kill you,
sir.”
“You shouldn’t have said that with Sandburg here as
a witness.”
“Hey, I’m keeping out of this,” Blair
protested.
“No, you started it, Chief. And I think I should
return the
favour. Hey, Simon, do you know what Sandburg calls his
car?”
“I don’t call it anything, other than a classic,
honest, Simon,” declared Blair.
“I don’t know what you call it, but I’d
call it a hunk of metal looking for a junkyard,” Simon stated.
“Hey! Not fair!”
“He calls it…” Jim started.
“Oh no, you don’t!” Blair interrupted,
trying to put
his hand over Jim’s mouth. Jim pushed Blair’s hand
away
with his good hand, and then quickly told Simon before Blair could stop
him.
And Simon nearly choked on his laughter.
The End
Author’s Note:
RTA stands for ‘Road Traffic Accident’.
This story was censored by Blair Sandburg...hence the name of his car
being omitted!!! *grin*
