infatuation

“Dr. Tancredi, we have an inmate coming in.”

Sara signed her name to the chart she’d been working on and dropped her pen to the desk. She stood up just as an inmate was wheeled in on a gurney. He was moaning and clutching his ribs and bleeding from cuts on his face, and Sara felt a momentary surge of relief that it wasn’t Michael.

“What have we got?” she asked, reaching for a pair of rubber gloves and snapping them on.

“Theodore Bagwell, found in a utility room,” a uniformed guard told her. “All right, please wait outside, and send in a nurse.”

Theodore Bagwell, or T-Bag as Sara knew he preferred to be called, writhed on the gurney and muttered under his breath about being set up.

“Let’s get you checked out,” Sara said. She carefully lifted his white T-shirt and began probing the bruised skin.

“By all means, ma’am. Check me out,” T-Bag said, his voice full of pain, but still lecherous.

Sara ignored him. She knew his background and why he was at Fox River. What she couldn’t understand was how he was still alive. Usually, child molesters were the bottom of the food chain in prisons. But not T-Bag.

“Who did this to you?” she asked.

T-Bag pursed his lips into a sly smirk and narrowed his eyes. “I fell down,” he said.

Sara resisted the urge to roll her eyes and dropped his T-shirt. “Fine. Don’t tell me.”

A nurse came in and Sara instructed her to clean the cuts on T-Bag’s face. Sara began to wrap a thick gauze bandage around his ribs.

“I don’t think they’re broken, but they’ll be tender for a couple of days. I’d like to keep you in the infirmary overnight,” she said.

“You can do whatever you like with me,” T-Bag said.

Sara made sure to secure the bandages extra tight, eliciting a wince from T-Bag.

“Just lay still for a moment while I write up the report,” she said.

The nurse left and T-Bag settled back onto the bed. Sara sat down with her clipboard, making sure to face T-Bag. No way was she going to turn her back on him.

“So, Doc. You see anyone interesting up here these days?” T-Bag asked. He smiled at her and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Not sure what you mean.”

“Well, there’s a pretty new fish in the pond. I hear he’s diabetic, so he’s probably up here on a regular basis. You know?”

Sara frowned but kept her eyes on the report.

“Aha, so you do know him,” T-Bag said, almost giggling. “He’s quite a looker, isn’t he? All soft skin and intense eyes. Plus those hands of his.” T-Bag licked his lips loudly. “Bet he could do wonders with those hands.”

“I really don’t think this is appropriate conversation,” Sara said sternly, pressing down hard on the clipboard with her pen as she wrote. “I’m putting you in the infirmary overnight for observation.”

“Aww, come on, Doc. Pretty girl like you? You’ve noticed him, I’m sure you have. Actually, you seem like just the type of woman he’d go for,” T-Bag said. He sat up a little and leaned towards her. “You can confide in me, Doc. You’ve fantasized about him, haven’t you? Thought about what it’d be like to be with him. Be beneath him.”

Sara jerked her head up and slammed the clipboard on the metal desk. The sound made T-Bag jump, and the guard came running in.

“Everything all right, Dr. Tancredi?” he asked, glaring at T-Bag.

“Fine. Everything’s fine,” she said. “I’m done with him. You can move him to an infirmary bed.”

The guard nodded and left to get his partner.

“Whoo, little feisty there,” T-Bag said. “Guess I hit a nerve.”

Sara ripped the paper from the clipboard and put it into a new file.

“Well, let me just say that I apologize, Doc,” T-Bag said, not sounding at all apologetic. “I only wanted to let you know that while you’re fantasizing about him up here...”

His voice trailed off, and Sara stared at him, hating him more than she already did.

“I’m fantasizing about him down there. And I can get to him at any time,” he finished.

The guards came back and hauled T-Bag to his feet. They began ushering him out of the room.

“How long’s he staying?” one guard asked Sara.

“One night, gentleman, one lonely -” T-Bag said, but Sara cut him off.

“Three nights,” she said. “Extensive damage to his ribs. He may even need to be restrained so he doesn’t hurt himself more.”

T-Bag’s mouth dropped, and after he recovered from the shock, he tried to protest. Sara smiled sweetly at him and waved good-bye.

~end