Disclaimer: The characters used are the property of David E. Kelley and no copyright
infringement in intended in their use.


                       THE PRINCESS NURSE
                                
                       by Gail M. Eppers

Chapter One

     It as a quiet morning at the nurse's station as Camille Shutt went over
her paperwork.  That's why she heard the footsteps approaching.  They stopped
in front of her, and, because she was standing, looking down, she could see
the boots in front of her.  At first, she raised her eyes without raising her
head, but the sight of him grabbed her attention.  He had shoulder length,
dark curly hair and a short moustache.  There was a scar, probably from
childhood, on each cheek.  He was dressed in what looked like homespun goods,
brown pants, tan long sleeve shirt, with a brown, tunic-length vest.  A brown
leather belt around his waist; something, she wasn't sure what, behind his
back.  He seemed vaguely familiar, but no, she told herself, she would have
remembered.  "Can I help you?"  
     "Hello.  My name is Inigo Montoya.  I am looking for the Man in Black."
He spoke with a very think Spanish accent.
     Billy Kronk, snacking from a bag of Ruffles, hovered behind Camille,
listening in.  "Pardon me?"  Camille asked.
     "The Man in Black."  Mr. Montoya repeated.  "He is here."
     "Johnny Cash?"  Kronk asked.  The strange man looked at him as if he
were angry at the interruption.  Clearly, he did not recognize the name Kronk
had spoken.
     "I'm sorry,"  Camille said, "I don't --"
     "Nevermind.  I will find him." 
     Camille jumped back as the man whipped out a sword from it's partially
hidden scabbard, his hands protected by an elaborate handle.  "Sir!"  She
shouted, "You can't have that in here!"  Her heart was in her throat.
Apparently, he intended to kill this "Man in Black" with the sword.  "Billy,
call security."  She threw the words over her shoulder.  Billy was already at
the phone, having tossed his bag of chips on the counter when the sword came
out.
     Inigo ignored the woman behind the counter.  He pointed the sword in
front of him and closed his eyes solemnly.  "Father, you have not failed me
yet.  Help me find the Man in Black."  He began to walk slowly down the
corridor.  Camille scooted from behind the counter and followed him.
     Billy, talking to security, told them, "yeah.  I guess he thinks the
sword is his father."
     Inigo's walk came to a halt at the end of the corridor, when the tip of
his sword hit the up button for the elevator.  At first, nothing happened,
and Inigo, disappointed, began to cradle his head against the wall.
Suddenly, the doors slid open, and, pleased, Inigo stepped into the small
room.  A few people looked him up and down as they got out.  Rather than
follow him into the enclosed space, Camille stayed back, and watched the
elevator lights.
    Inside the small room, Inigo again raised his sword, closed his eyes, and
uttered another prayer to his father.  The sword tip was drawn to a button,
and the lift began to move.
    Camille saw the indicator rise, then stop at 5.  She ran to a stairwell,
and raced up.  At the fifth floor, she entered the hallway, only to find the
elevator door just closing.  But she heard the bootsteps, and crept around
the corner, where she saw him enter a room.
     Inigo smiled as he entered, "Man in Black!"  He called, sheathing his
sword. 
     The patient in the bed turned his head, and also grinned.  "Wesley."  He
said.  "I've told you a million times, Inigo.  It's Wesley."
     Unseen to the two inside, Camille lurked just outside the doorway.
Inigo came to the bedside, "You look better.  You were mostly dead, you
know."
     "Don't remind me, "  replied Wesley in his English accent.  "The next
time Buttercup waxes the kitchen floor, she'd better let me know about it!"
They both laughed at this, then Wesley added, "So, how's the piracy
business?"
     "Not so good."  Inigo frowned, "You think maybe an ocean would be
better?"  He said it as if he were thinking to himself.
     "Possibly," Wesley agreed.  "What brings you here, Inigo?"
     "You do!  I came to help."
     "How?" 
      "Well, the last time you were mostly dead ---"
      "I know."  Wesley reminded him, "you got a pill from Miracle Max."
      "Unfortunately, I can't find Miracle Max."  Replied Inigo as he paced
between the two beds in the room.  He leaned against one edge of it, pushing
his sword and scabbard to one side.  "But I know he would help you, probably
for free, but I have 45 saved up.  If you need it for a miracle, it is
yours."
      "Thank you, Inigo."  Wesley weakly waved the offer away, "But I'm fully
insured now.  That's why I'm here.  Did you hear about Fezzik?"
       Inigo grew even sadder.  "Yes."  He sighed, "But he died doing what he
loved, wrestling."
      "Yes, but to be done in by the Coca-Cola Polar Bear ---"  Wesley also
sighed, unable to finish the thought.
       "It is truly tragic."  Then Inigo brightened, "And where is
Buttercup?"
       "Home, with the boys."
       "Ah, yes, the boys.  All four of them?"
       "Yes."
       Inigo was suddenly seized by both arms as security finally caught up
to him.  He struggled.  "Wait,"  Wesley called, "It's alright!"  Inigo
stopped struggling, waiting for the men to release him.  "He's a friend of
mine."
      "What is the problem?" Inigo had no idea why these men had restrained
him. 
      "Your sword,"  Wesley explained.  "No weapons allowed here.  Give it to
them, and everything will be fine."
      Inigo looked horrified.  "But it is my father's sword.  He was
slaughtered by Count Rugan with this sword.  I slaughtered Count Rugan with
this sword."
     "Yes, "  Wesley admitted, "it has a lot of sentimental value.  You'll
get it back, Inigo."  He assured the Spaniard.
      Relunctantly, Inigo unbuckled his scabbard and handed it to one of the
security men.  The two men, and Camille, still unseen, let out a sigh of
relief.  She saw Philip Watters, chief of staff, walking quickly down the
hallway, and waved him to the right room.  He entered, starting only slightly
at the man's odd clothing, noticing the confiscated scabbard and sword.
"Could I speak with you, Sir?"  He gestured to the far side of the room, and
gently guided the man by the elbow.  "Sir, this is a hospital.  We heal the
sick and injured here.  Why did you bring a sword?"
     Inigo still could not understand all the fuss, "It helped me find the
Man in Black."  He said, as if everyone should have known that.
     "Man in Black?"  Watters repeated, confused.  
     Inigo gestured with his head toward Wesley, "He's wearing white, but he
is the Man in Black."
     Watters nodded, realizing he was dealing with a lunatic and humoring the
now unarmed man was probably a good idea.  "Of course.  How long will you be
staying?"  Long enough for us to get someone from Psych in here, I hope,
Watters thought to himself.  At times like this, he longed for the days when
he had passed himself off as Barney, working as a consierge as he attended
medical school.
     "As long as he wants me to."
     Watters turned to the man in the bed, "Mr. uh..." he glanced at the
chart hanging at the end of the bed, "Wesley,"  he barely stopped a chuckle,
"you know this man?"
     "Yes, Mr. ---?"  Wesley prompted.
     "Watters.  Philip Watters, chief of staff."
     "Watters?!"  He muttered to himself, "And he laughed at *my* name."
Then added aloud, "Just assure him that his sword will be returned to him
when he leaves.  It's an, uh, heirloom."
     "I see.  Good day, then, Gentlemen."  He added in a whisper to the
security men as he left, "Keep an eye on him.  I'm calling Psych."  The guard
nodded quickly in acknowledgement.  He nodded to Camille that it would be
safe for her to return to the nurse's station.  
     She stepped closer to him and whispered, "You laughed at his name?"
     Watters hesitated, then admitted it, "Come on.  Wesley?!"  He made a
face.
     Danny Nyland strolled by, overhearing the brief conversation.  As he
passed, he added, "We'll get letters," under his breath. The door closed, but
the guards stood on either side.
     The room empty except for them once again, Wesley looked forward to
catching up on things.  "Have a seat."  He gestured to the bedside chair.
     Inigo grinned, "The last person I heard you say that to was Prince
Humperdink, and you know what happened to him."
     "No, I don't."  Wesley answered honestly,  "I never heard of him after
that."
     Inigo took the proferred seat, "Neither did I.  We were talking about
the boys."
    They picked up the conversation as if they had never been interrupted.
Wesley replied, "Best horses I've ever had.  White horses are very popular
this time of year.  I drive a horse and buggy cab; I have two of them,
actually."
    "I'm his wife!"  Inigo turned at the familiar voice as Buttercup entered
the room, pushing angrily passed the security guards.  She immediately kissed
her husband, "Sweet Wesley."  She said.  
     "Look who's here."  Wesley said, indicating Inigo, who had risen when
Buttercup entered and was offering her the chair.
     "Hello."  Inigo said, as she sat gratefully, "My name is --"
     She cut him off, "I know what your name is.  And I didn't kill your
father."
     Inigo was taken aback.  "I wasn't going to say that."
     Wesley took his wife's hand, "Buttercup, who is with the boys?"
    "They're tied up; they'll be all right.  How are you feeling?"  
     His eyes clouded over briefly, "I've been worse."  But not wanting to
upset Buttercup, he cheered himself, "I'll be fine, dearest."  She leaned to
kiss him again, and the next thing Inigo knew she was kneeling above Wesley
on the bed, his head in her hands, their mouths locked.  Wesley tried to say
something, but couldn't until Buttercup stopped to breathe.  "Gently!"  He
cried.  Oh, his aching back!  
     Buttercup gathered herself, and demurely climbed off the bed and sat
back in the chair.  "As you wish, Sweet Wesley."
     Dr. Aaron Shutt entered the room, chart in hand.  "Hello, Mr. uh..." He
looked at the chart, "Wesley."  
     "Wesley."  Wesley said clearly, "Just Wesley."
     Dr. Shutt apparently didn't hear.  "Good news, Mr. Wesley, Mrs. Wesley."
He nodded to Buttercup, "There's been no damage to the spinal chord.  What
you are experiencing is spinal chord shock, and the paralysis will be
temporary.  In fact," He pulled up the bedding at Wesley's feet, and
scratched the bottom of one foot with his thumbnail, "do you feel that?"
      Wesley squinted, concentrating.  "Do it again."  Shutt scratched
Wesley's foot again, and Wesley smiled.  "Yes, I felt it."
      "Can you wiggle your toes?"  Shutt watched the pair of feet, and after
a few moments, the toes moved slightly.  "Wonderful!"  
       Wesley didn't appear happy.  "I have two horse-drawn carriages to
manage, and I'm flat on my back, unable to walk.  A little toe wiggle is
supposed to make me happy, hmmmm?"  He grumbled.  
       Shutt pulled the covers back in place, "Well, Mr. Wesley, it is a very
good sign."  He looked at Inigo, "Be sure not to stay too long.  Mr. Wesley
needs rest."  Then he paused, scrutinizing Inigo, to which Inigo, of course,
took offense until Shutt asked, "Do I know you?"  Something about the man, as
odd as it seemed, was familiar.
       "No.  We've never met."  He, too, looked at Shutt suspiciously.  He'd
been getting a lot of odd looks from people around here.  He wasn't sure if
he was at all welcome.
      "Sorry.  My mistake."  Shutt admitted.  He gave Wesley an encouraging
pat on the foot, and left.
     

     It seemed to Watters that he'd been on the phone for hours.  "I realize
you have patients to see, but we narrowly escaped bloodshed down here.  He's
in room 525.  All I ask is for you to go in and evaluate him for a few
minutes."  He paused again, listening.  "How soon do you think you'll have
the time?  I can't hold him here forever."  Another pause, a sigh of
frustration, "Yes!  I think he's dangerous!  He was brandishing a sword, for
gosh sakes!" Pause.  "Yes, we confiscated the sword, but we have no right to
keep it from him when he leaves. .... I have no idea if he's got a license!
.... Listen, you've been informed.  That's all I'm required to do.  If anyone
gets hurt, it's on your department's head!"  He hung up the phone angrily,
and rubbed his forehead.  The day was not starting out well.

     
Chapter Two

     "Who has my sword?"  Inigo asked the nurse he had first talked to,
earlier in the day.  She looked a little glassy eyed, he thought.
     "Hmmmm?" She had been in a reverie of some kind, and just realized she
was being spoken to.  "Your what?"  Then, the actual question came to her
without it's being repeated, "Your sword?"  
      "Yes, my sword.  I'm leaving now and I want it returned."
      Camille shuffled papers, as if she was going to find the sword among
them on her counter.  "I don't know.  I suppose the security guard still has
it."  
       "No, he doesn't.  I asked for it when I left the room."
       Camille held still, thinking, making the conscious effort to remember.
"Oh,"  she said when it came to her.  "I'll be right back."  She went to the
storage closet.  The sword was there, propped up next to the refrigerator
with the clear glass door.  She saw lemonade inside.  She returned to the
desk a minute later with the sword in one hand and a lemonade in the other.
"Here you go."  She handed him the sword, still sheathed in the belt.
       Inigo reached for it, severely annoyed at this person.  "Thank you."
He didn't know what he was going to do now.  It would be fun to find Miracle
Max, but now he was no longer needed.  Inigo needed a purpose.  He felt just
as he had after he had killed Count Rugan.  He strapped the sword around his
waist; it made him feel a little better having it back where it belonged.
But he still walked out the hospital doors undecided.

      Meanwhile, Wesley and Buttercup were alone.  Buttercup was again
straddling her husband, to his dismay.  "I've missed you so much, Sweet
Wesley."  She said between gentle kisses.  "I'll never wax the floor again.
I promise."  
      Nurse Atkisson came into the room suddenly, with a basin and towel in
hand.  Without looking up, she announced, "All right, Mr. Wesley.  Time for a
sponge bath."  She went immediately into the bathroom, where she proceeded to
fill the basin.
      "Sponge bath?"  Buttercup asked as she again climbed down from the bed.
"What is this?"  She sat in the chair.
       Nurse Atkisson came out, carefully carrying the basin to the bedside
table.  "Oh, you'll have to excuse us, Mrs. Wesley.  It's time for his sponge
bath."  She uncovered the patient, and prepared to remove his hospital gown.
       "I'll bathe him."  Buttercup insisted, "I am his wife."
       "I'm sorry, Mrs. Wesley.  I can't allow that.  The patient has a back
injury."  She waited, staring down Buttercup.  "You can wait down the hall.
I'll let you know when we're finished."  Buttercup kissed her husband again,
and left sullenly.
       Nurse Atkisson smiled, and removed Wesley's gown.  "This won't hurt a
bit, Mr. Wesley."  She said.
       "Just Wesley."  He said, not expecting her to listen.


       "You what!?"  Watters couldn't believe what Camille had just told him.
She had just let a lunatic loose on the streets with a deadly weapon.  
       "He asked for his sword and I gave it to him.  He left."  She gestured
to the doorway, as if his leaving the premises solved the problem.  "Excuse
me, Philip.  I have a headache."  She retreated to the storage closet.
       Watters walked out the doors and looked both ways, trying to determine
which way he had gone, but there was no sign.  When he turned to go back in,
he got the shock of his life.  Walking toward him, from just inside the
doors, was Marguerite Birch.  She smiled, as she came out the door and hugged
his stunned frame.   "Hello, Philip.  I missed you."
       Watters looked at her, completely amazed.  She was supposed to have
returned to France.  He pushed her to arms length, "What are you doing here?"
      "Hugging you."  She said, her childlike voice bringing back memories of
their first meeting, shortly after Alan Birch's death.  My God, he thought,
what have I done?


      Inigo got two or three blocks away, and stopped.  Something told him he
should go back.  There really was nothing for him here.  He'd been heading
back to his ship, the pirate ship Revenge, which he had inherited from the
Man in Black, who had inherited it from Cumberbund, who had inherited it from
someone else.  It was the scourge of the high seas, now docked at the Chicago
marina.  His crew awaited him, but they would wait a little longer.  He
turned on his heels and headed back to the Man in Black.  He could not leave
him like that, insured or not.
      He came once again to the nurse's station.  Camille sighed, "you're
back?"  and held out her hand.  He handed over his scabbard wordlessly, and
headed for Wesley's room.  On the fifth floor, he found Buttercup pacing
outside the door.  
      "What is wrong?"
      "He's having a sponge bath.  And if he isn't done in about 10 seconds
--- " she was going to add a graphic, viiolent description of the nurse's
imminent death, but noticed she had no weapon.  "They took your sword again?"
      Inigo shrugged, and began pacing also.  "I hate waiting."  He muttered.
      Together, they waited.  It was only a few more minutes before the
red-headed nurse emerged with the empty basin and wet towel, smiling giddily.
She did not notice Buttercup's killer glare which followed her down the
corridor, until she turned the corner.
     Buttercup and Inigo entered the room to find Wesley sleeping quietly.
"Hmmm,"  Buttercup sighed sadly, "Sponge baths must be very exhausting."  She
sat in the chair again, and took his hand.
      Inigo paced.  
      Buttercup said, "There is another chair, Inigo.  Please sit.  Your
pants are too loud."
      "My what?"  He looked down, then listened when he paced again.  He
hadn't noticed before, but she was right.  They made a whipping noise that
was very distracting suddenly.  So Inigo leaned against the second bed again,
missing how he had had to push his scabbard to one side.  "Have you heard
anything of Miracle Max since you left?"
      "No.  Not a thing."
      "What about Prince Humperdink?"
      "You won't see him anymore."  But it wasn't Buttercup that answered.
The woman entered and closed the door behind her.  
      The voice.  Inigo knew that voice.  But it couldn't be her!  He stared.
"Who are you?  I must know!"  
       "You knew me as Valerie, but don't tell anyone.  I'm Marguerite now."
Giddily, she sprawled on the bed that Inigo leaned against.
        "What?  Valerie was an old woman."  Inigo was suspicous.
       "Yes!"  She said brightly, then pointed at Inigo, "But I was married
to Miracle Max!"  She giggled, "He gave me a miracle."
       Inigo was skeptical, "He made you young?  How?"
      Valerie hit Inigo across the top of his head, "It was a miracle!"  
       Inigo squinted his eyes and rubbed his head, "What happened to Miracle
Max?  If he made you young, did he make himself young, too?"  And was he
here?  Could he help the Man in Black faster than this Shutt person?  Inigo
was full of questions.
       Valerie looked uncertain.  "I don't know.  Probably.  I left him."
She turned to Buttercup, "But you won't have to worry about Humperdink
anymore."
       "How do you know?"  Buttercup spoke quietly, not wanting to wake her
husband, who hadn't stirred.  
       Valerie sat on the foot of the bed, it being the only remaining seat.
"I followed him.  He knew it was really because of Max, that you were able to
beat him.  And I was worried he would hurt Max.  He was so humiliated, he
decided to leave Florin."
      "Humiliated?  You mean ...."  Inigo knew that they had left the man
formerly known as Prince tied to a chair in his marital bedroom.  If he had
managed to free himself, he could easily have made up a story to explain the
disappearance of his wife that would make him sound gallant and brave.  And
no one else had been there when they jumped out the window to Fezzik and the
four waiting white horses.
      "After you left, the Gatekeeper found him tied to the chair.  Now,
Humperdink had treated the Gatekeeper very badly, so naturally the Gatekeeper
told everyone about Humperdink's cowardice."
      "I see."  Inigo nodded.  "So he left Florin ..." he prompted Valerie.
      Valerie's voice got very quiet, "He came to America, but on his way to
the Florin shipyards, he was attacked by a BAOUS!"
      "A BAOUS?"  Buttercup asked, "A Bat, Also Of Unusual Size?"  She had
heard of them briefly.  They were one of the three dangers of the shipyards,
the others being tidal waves and sailors who had just returned.
      "A bat?  What kind of bat?"  Inigo knew there were hundreds of types of
bats.  But his question only got him another wack to the side of his head.
     "A vampire bat!"  Valerie hissed.  "He changed his name to Jerry
Dandrige because no one would be afraid of a vampire named Humperdink, and
moved into a house, but the kid next door found out what he was and tried to
kill him."
     Inigo interrupted, "The kid knew he was Humperdink?"  He ducked, but
Valerie anticipated and got him anyway.
     "He knew 'Dandrige' was a vampire.  Humperdink was furious.  He
threatened the kid, but the kid, Charlie somebody or other, wouldn't stop.
He even brought help.  So Humperdink kidnapped Charlie's girlfriend and
turned her into a vampire, too.  They just kept fighting him until daybreak.
In the end, it was the sunlight that killed him, but he is dead.  The
girlfriend married some guy named Steve, anyway, and moved to Chicago."
      Inigo sat for a few moments, absorbing this information, "So who is
ruling Florin?"
     "The King, I suppose, if he's still alive.  I don't know.  I haven't
been back there."
      Suddenly, Nurse Atkisson returned, again carrying the basin and a fresh
towel.  Buttercup jumped up and pushed her out the door, "He already had his
bath, thank you!"
      Something suddenly occurred to Inigo, "Why are you here?  Did you come
to help the Man in Black, too?"
      "I came to see Philip Watters.  He's in a meeting now, though."


     Watters sat at his desk, trying to look busy, and wondering how long
this "meeting" could last.  He felt like a cad, but he couldn't hurt her
feelings.  She'd just lost her baby brother to a crazed drug dealer with a
gun the size of Kansas.  She's also talked him into planting her brother's
ashes in his garden with a rose bush.  He rubbed his hands over his face
tiredly, then rested his chin on them, supported by his elbows on his
desktop.  What was he supposed to tell her?  He looked at the clock on the
wall, willing it to stop, but the red hand continued on relentlessly.  If
only Geiger were here.  He'd know how to handle this.  He'd be able to come
up with a highly believable story that wouldn't hurt anyone.  Oh, who was he
kidding?  Geiger would tell her to grow the hell up and make her cry.  He
took a deep breath.  This was up to him.  "Meeting adjourned."  He said
aloud, and bravely walked out of his office.
     As he came past the first floor nursing station, he saw Camille, sitting
blankly, the sword propped up next to her.  "Camille?"  He asked to get her
attention.  "Camille?"
     "Hmmmm?"  She looked up at him dreamily, "Yes, Philip?"
     "He's back?"  He pointed to the sword.
      "What?"  She turned her head to look at it as if it weighed fifty
pounds.  "Oh, yeah.  He's back.  Same room."
     "Great."  Watters muttered, and headed for the phone.  "Hello, Psych,
this is Philip Watters, Chief of Staff.  I want a psychiatrist to the fifth
floor nurses station immediately..... Don't argue with me, surely there's
someone you can spare.  Consider it an emergency."  He hung up, not giving
the person time to come up with any more excuses, and headed for the
elevator, rubbing his forhead.
     

      
Chapter Three

     No one was there when Watters got to the fifth floor nurses station, but
he wasn't waiting long when the elevator opened and Kadalski stepped out.
"Ray!"  Watters called, "What brings you here?"  Kadalski had previously
worked for Chicago Hope, but his unorthodox methods had gotten him fired some
time ago.   Watters was glad to see that he had not brought his guitar.
      "I got a call you wanted a psychiatrist to meet you here.  You okay?"
He looked at Watters as if the man may be ready to crack.
      "They sent you?  How the --"  He was going to have to have a talk with
the psych department.  Apparently, they had ordered out.  "Nevermind, you'll
do.  I'm fine, but there's a man I think you should evaluate."  Watters
filled him in on the events of the morning.
      "Is there any way I could observe him unseen?"  Kadalski asked.  The
man might become violent if he knew what was going on.
      "No."  Watters admitted, "but I have an idea."  He went behind the
station and got a folded wheelchair, then unfolded it, locked it, and patted
the seat.  "It's a semi-private room.  Let's say I admit you."
      Kadalski paused, "I like it."  So he climbed into the wheelchair, "What
am I in for?  We better agree on an ailment."
     Watters thought for a minute, "Gallstones?"
     "Too painful.  I'm not an actor; I don't think I could do that
convincingly."
     "Okay.  Appendix.  It was already removed and we needed the private room
you had."
      "Well,"  Kadalski didn't want to seem picky, but maybe he could have
some fun out of this.  "Appendix is rather boring.  How about a good
old-fashioned gunshot wound?"
      Watters was a little put out, "Who would believe someone would shoot
you?"  He knew Ray wasn't a very quick take on irony.
      "True."  Kadalski agreed.   "Inconceivable."  Suddenly he raised one
finger as the perfect idea came to him, "Brain tumor!"  He glanced up at
Watters in search of agreement.
      "Very conceivable."  Watters capitulated, and began wheeling him to the
room.
      

     At long last, Wesley began to stir.  He turned his head and opened his
eyes, to see his wife watching him, and smiled broadly.  "Good Morning,
Buttercup."  He mumbled sleepily.
     "It's afternoon, Dearest."
     "Hmmm?"  Then memories returned, and he realized where he was, "Oh yes.
The hospital.  Inigo!"  He said happily, seeing the third person in the room.
"I fell asleep."  He didn't seem to remember being sleepy, "I'm sorry.  What
did I miss?"
      Valerie was prepared to repeat everything, but at this point the door
opened and Watters wheeled a short, rotund man into the room.  She jumped off
the bed, gleefully.  "Here we are Mr. Kadalski," Watters said colloquially,
without looking up.  He stopped the chair next to the bed, which Inigo had
been leaning against, but moved away from as they entered.  Watters opened
the bed, and helped the fully dressed man get under the covers.  "I'll be
back shortly."  And he began to take  the wheelchair out of the room.  
     He stopped when someone came up from behind and put two hands over his
eyes.  He knew those hands.  Gently he took the hands down and turned to see
their owner.  It was Marguerite.  "What are you doing in here?"  
     "These are old friends of mine."  She explained briefly, "Come on,
Philip.  Let's go."  She was anxious to see him in private and jumped into
the wheelchair.  "Take me for a ride!"  Watters tried to look dignified, as
he pushed the wheelchair quickly out the door.
     The three original occupants looked at the new arrival, as he leaned
back against the fluffy pillow, turned on his TV, adjusted the volume, and
settled in.
     Wesley ignored the new patient, "Inigo, you were about to tell me what I
slept through...."
      Inigo's mouth opened as he prepared to speak, then he changed his mind
on what he would say, "Let me 'splain."  Then he pulled his attention away
from the man in "his" bed, and turned to Wesley, "No, too much to 'splain.
Let me sum up."  And he told Wesley about Valerie's visit and the fate of
Prince Humperdink.
      When Inigo finished, Wesley was astonished.  "It is a relief."
     The door opened again.  This time it was the red headed nurse again,
carrying a tray with a small cup containing some pills and a larger cup of
water.  "Time for your medication, Mr. Wesley."  Wesley obediently swallowed
the pills, and waited for her to leave, but she didn't.  
      "Is there something else, nurse?"  Wesley asked when she just stood
there looking at him.
      "Ummm."  She thought, her hands nervously going into a pocket and
fingering what was there.  "Ah yes!"  She said, withdrawing a sterile
hypodermic needle from the pocket.  "You need an injection."  She was pleased
that she had thought of something else she could do for him.
       Wesley held the oversized sleeve of the hospital gown up to his
shoulder.
       "Ummmm.  Not there, Mr. Wesley.  Would you like some privacy for
this?"  Without waiting for an answer, she whipped the curtain around the
bed.
       Buttercup, undaunted, parted the curtain and slipped inside.  Inigo
could hear the whole thing.  
       "I'm his wife!  I'll stay in here, if you don't mind."
       "As you wish, Dear Buttercup."
       "I'm sorry, Mam.  Please step outside the privacy curtain."
       "I will not.  I told you."
       A heavy sigh.  "Oh all right."
       "OUCH!"
       There was a quiet moment, then the nurse folded up the curtain and
left the room without another word.   Buttercup exhumed calmness as soon as
the door closed behind her.   
       It was getting hard to pick up a conversation, but Wesley tried again,
"So, Valerie doesn't know where Miracle Max is either?"
      "No.  She doesn't even know if he is young or old."  Replied Inigo.
"How much can you move now?"
     Wesley concentrated and managed to bend his knees a bit under the
covers.  At least, Inigo was assuming that *was* his knees.  Then the
flattened out again.  Wesley was visibly tired by this, and sank back in the
bed.
      While all these things were going on, Kadalski was barely listening to
his TV, as he observed the conversation.  Miracle Max?  Sounded like the name
of a drug dealer.  Prince Humperdink?  BAOUS's?  What language was this?
Definitely schizophrenia, he was diagnosing, maybe something else, too.  But
it wasn't just the visitor that Watters had told him about.  All three of
them seemed to be involved in some kind of common delusion.  This could be
very interesting, but there was little else he could do until he talked to
Watters.  And patients don't get out of bed to go get the Chief of Staff, so
he adjusted the volume up on the TV a bit more.  He'd seen enough now that he
could divide his attention just fine.  Looked like it could actually be a
good movie, too.  Something about basketball.  A short white guy was blowing
the whistle and arguing with several players. 
      Something stopped Inigo.  A voice.  Slowly, he turned and saw the
television the new patient was watching.  He squinted.  If only the crowd at
the basketball game would quiet down, he could be more sure.  He was a little
different, younger, obviously, but .... oh, that was it, that man on the TV
was happy!  Could it be him?  His Miracle Max?  Inigo stepped close to the
box, and suddenly he was positive, "There his is!"
     "Who?  Inigo?"  Wesley and Buttercup asked simultaneously.  Buttercup
rose and went to stand by Inigo.
      "Miracle Max."  Inigo pointed to the TV.
      Buttercup had never actually met this Miracle Max.  In fact, neither
had Wesley since he had been mostly dead at the time.  Only Inigo and Fezzik
had seen him that day, and Fezzik was dead.  Inigo shrugged.  Well, he had
found the man he was looking for.   "He's coaching basketball."  Together,
Inigo and Buttercup turned away from the TV and went back to Wesley.  It was
nice to know Miracle Max was happy in what he was doing.  Inigo hoped he
would see Valerie again so that he could tell her.

      Watters wheeled Valerie to the nurses station, then explained that he
had to return the wheelchair in case a real patient needed it.  So she got up
and waited while he put it away, then took him by the arm.  "I missed you,
Philip."  She looked up at him dreamily.  He sighed and took her into his
office.  "Oooooo"  she said as he locked the door.  Then she lay down on his
leather sofa, arms opened wide, "I want it!"
      Watters sat in a chair near the sofa, which startled Marguerite into
sitting up, too.  "What is it, Philip?"
      "We have to talk."



Chapter Four

     Marguerite couldn't believe what had just happened.  She left Watter's
office still stunned.  It was unbelievable. That night at his house was just
what she had originally thought; two hurt souls consoling each other.  He had
changed since the death of his wife, he'd said.  Besides, he was
concentrating on his work now.  With all that had happened, the time wasn't
right for any kind of relationship.  He needed to feel out how Alan's death
would change his life; learn how to live with it, with everything that had
been left unresolved.  Marguerite tried to tell herself he was wrong.   But
he was right.  It could never work out.   If he liked men, he liked men.  She
left the hospital without looking back.
     After Marguerite left his office, Watters sat there, at his desk.  She
bought it.  Then, he couldn't contain himself, "Yaaaaa-hhhhhhoooooooooo!"  He
whispered, so as not to disturb the rest of the hospital.  "Kadalski."  He
slapped the desk and pushed himself up.  He'd almost forgotten.
     

     "Are you sure you have to leave, Inigo?"  Wesley asked.  It was so nice
having his old friend here.  
     "You are getting better.  I've found Miracle Max.  The Pirate Ship
Revenge must be quite a mess without me."  He shook hands, then dipped
Buttercup.  "Perhaps next time, my place?"  He asked.
      "Inigo, your place is a pirate ship.  It can't stay docked in Chicago
Harbor forever."
      That thought hadn't occurred to Inigo.  "Ah,"  He exclaimed, "I'll
check slip prices!  I've plundered enough gold to stay until Buttercup has
her baby."
      "Baby!"  Wesley looked at Buttercup, who lowered her eyes shyly.  "I'm
going to be a ....."  With that, he passed out.
      The door swung open at Atkisson re-entered with more equipment in her
hands.  Buttercup stood, arms blocking access to her husband, "What is it
now?"
      "This is real.  He needs an enema, he hasn't gone in way too long."
Atkisson began to set up.
      The meaning dawned on Buttercup.  "Oh no, you're not!"  She gathered
the stainless steel medical equipment and tubing and tossed it out the door.
       Atkisson noticed Kadalski in the other bed and retreated toward him.
"Are they all nuts?"
      "Yes."  Kadalski replied.
       "Oh, well that figures!"  Atkisson threw up her hands and followed her
equipment, "They're always nuts!"  
      Buttercup smiled and snuggled with Wesley, just coming to.  "Sweet
Wesley, do you know what I'm going to do?"  She asked mellowly.
      "Run her through?"  Inigo offered with a laugh.
      "I'm going to be a nurse, Sweet Wesley!  Then when you are mostly dead,
*I* can take care of you!"  And Inigo knew she would, too.  Again, he made
his goodbyes and went downstairs to retrieve his sword from the first floor
nurses station.
       Wesley put one hand on Buttercup's belly, and looked up at her face.
She smiled.
      This is how Watters found them.  He went to Kadalski's bed and was
surprised to find the psychiatrist with tears rolling down his cheeks.
"Ray?"  Watters asked, his voice low.  "What happened?"
       "Not a thing, Philip.  Not a thing."  He wiped his eyes on one sleeve
and got out of the bed.  "Let's go." He tiptoed out of the room, Watters
right behind him, confused once again.


      Inigo stared down the street toward the harbor.  He could see the tip
of his mainsail as he walked.  It was a beautiful ship.  It was beautiful
day.  The rigging swung gently in the breeze, and as he neared he began to
notice that a crowd had formed around the ship.  Not really a crowd, but ...
a line?  He pushed to the front, where his first mate seemed surprised to see
him.  "Captain Roberts, Sir!" The mate reached down with one arm to help his
captain aboard, but his captain nearly cut it off.
      "What is this?"  Inigo demanded.
      "People wanted to see the ship, so I've been giving tours.  A dollar a
head."
      Inigo leaned in to whisper in his mate's ear, "Tomorrow, make it two."
He was a pirate, afterall.

THE END