Title: When good times go bad.

Author: Ally

Author's note:  This story has been tweaked and trimmed so much it 
looks like a guy on a first date. It is a Bobby/Lindsay fic (I know...how 
predictable).

 

Thanks: Livvy...words fail me (I know...I'm surprised too). Thanks for 
the help on this one...it would have remained a half finished fic on my 
hard drive. Thanks also to Bron and Jewel for their constant support.

 

Disclaimer: Seriously, I have no excitement in my life. Send all the law 
suits my way. But to stop Melly being sued...I'll say it...these 
characters belong to DEK and The Practice.

 
*********************************************************************

Part 1: The calm before the storm

 

Office of DYDF, late night

 

"The DA's office is going to have trouble convincing the jury of 
motive..."

 

Lindsay rubs her eyes tiredly as Bobby drones on about a case. She 
pretends to pay attention for a few seconds, vacantly seeing his mouth 
move but neither hearing nor understanding his words. She holds back 
a sigh and peeks at the others around the conference table. She is 
certain that they must be as bored as she is, but is surprised to see that 
they are earnestly paying attention to Bobby. Even Jimmy is writing on 
his yellow legal pad. She again tries to concentrate, but soon finds her 
thoughts drifting away from her husband and to more trivial matters. 
She thinks about the case she was assigned to that day. It is an easy 
one – a small civil complaint that she can do with her eyes closed. The 
client is a local businessman suing a newspaper for defamation. It is 
open and shut and she is sure that they can get a settlement. As much 
as she hates to admit it, she is glad that it is simple and harmless. 
Although she is determined to act as though she is still the same strong 
person, on the inside, Lindsay isn't sure whether she can handle the 
emotion of a big criminal trial and for the first time is glad that she has a 
husband who is overwhelmingly protective. She covers a yawn and 
again tries to turn her attention back to Bobby’s case.

 

"...Eugene, if you could talk to the brother, Rebecca, I need you to 
talk to Green's wife. I want her there everyday, showing her support 
for David.  Jimmy, find out everything you can about the guy who 
tipped the police off..." Bobby looks at Lindsay, ready to assign her to 
a part of the case, but smiles when he sees the faraway look in her 
eyes. 

"When Lindsay decides to wake up, she can talk with the jury 
consultants." The others turn to look at Lindsay and also smile. 
Lindsay remains oblivious and Bobby returns to his spiel, "That's all. 
We'll meet again tomorrow night."

The lawyers file out of the conference room silently, leaving Bobby to 
put away the files that clutter his side of the table. Lindsay continues to 
sit lost in thought, and once the table is clear he taps her on the 
shoulder, watching her jump.

He smirks, "Meeting's over, let's go."

Lindsay looks up, ashamed, "Oh. My mind was somewhere else."

"I noticed. I don't think you heard one word tonight."

"I'm sorry. I'm just tired."

Standing behind her, he massages her shoulders, "You can't expect to 
do everything that you used to do. I think you should concentrate on 
relaxing a little more. I've said the same thing to Ellenor."

She sighs; they have been through this many times, "I know. I just...I 
didn't expect to feel this tired."

"You should be tired, you worked hard today." He looks at his watch, 
"Let's go...I don't want to have to carry you out to the car."

Lindsay knows where he is going with this and plays along, "Excuse 
me?"

"With all that extra weight, you'd break my back," he replies with a 
mock grimace.

"You're just not strong enough. I knew I should have married a man 
that could at least lift a feather off the ground."

"You think you're as light as a feather? A half ton feather, maybe." 
Lindsay opens her mouth to protest, but Bobby continues before she 
can get a word out, "And you think I couldn't lift you?" he asks. 
"Haven't you seen my muscles lately?"

She bursts into laughter, "Muscles? You call those tiny things 
muscles?"

"I bet I could carry you," he says, playing into her hands.

"I bet you couldn't," Lindsay replies smugly.

He pulls her chair back and rolls his sleeves up in preparation, sizing 
her up as he does so. Lindsay smiles and relaxes as much as she can, 
knowing that she will be heavier that way. He scoops her up 
effortlessly and props her on his knee. "I told you I could."

"Mmmm," Lindsay replies, closing her eyes and resting her head on his 
chest. "Then you wouldn't mind carrying me to the car, then?"

He unceremoniously dumps her back in the chair, "Sorry. I think you 
can walk."

Lindsay sighs and stands up, giving him a dirty look, "Some husband 
you are."

He laughingly pushes her out the door. The others have disappeared 
from the office, leaving them to stumble out in semi darkness.

"So what happened in the meeting?" Lindsay asks as Bobby locks the 
door.

"I'll tell you in the morning. I don't want to send you to sleep again."

"Hmmm. Your voice does have that quality," she says mildly.

"What!?"

"It can be a little monotonous...that's all. It's nothing to be worried 
about, but I've seen jurors get all glassy eyed during your 
closings...you would be a great hypnotist." Her smile is teasing and he 
takes the comments as they are intended.

"So you think a career change might be a good idea?"

She nods seriously.

He furrows his brow, "I'll have to consider it."

"And Bobby?"

"Yes?"

"If you become a hypnotist, I'll let you practice on me." 

He smiles broadly, "Can I start practicing tonight?"

She returns the smile, "We'll see."

 

Once home, Bobby disappears into the bathroom while Lindsay 
checks the answering machine. She listens to Helen's scolding voice 
with a rueful smile.

 

"Linds. I thought you were meant to be taking it easy. I even recall you 
saying that you were going to take today off. Yet Ellenor comes home, 
innocently mentioning that you were at work...I want answers and I 
want them now....okay...maybe tomorrow. Are we still doing lunch on 
Friday? There have been developments on the boyfriend scene. 
Oh...shit...I just realised that Bobby might be listening to this...Call me 
tomorrow, Linds. Goodnight Bobby." 

 

Lindsay grins and hits the delete button, making a mental note to call 
Helen in the morning. She wanders back into their bedroom, where 
she can hear the shower running. Deciding against joining Bobby there, 
she lays back and closes her eyes. Once the world is shut out, she 
relaxes and drifts into an uncomplicated sleep.

 

Bobby dries himself, disappointed that he had showered alone. Just 
another indication, he realises, of their growing indifference to each 
other. He dresses quickly and opens the door.

"Do you know what I'm in the mood for?" He stops in his tracks to see 
Lindsay lying fully clothed on their bed, sleeping peacefully.

"It can wait...I guess." He sighs and goes into the living room where he 
stops in front of their CDs – an eclectic collection of modern and 
classic music. He inserts an old Pink Floyd CD and sits at his desk, 
lost in thought. The romance had been missing from their life lately. It 
seemed to follow a well laid out plan, involving work, eating and 
sleeping. Generally in that order. Their professional lives had been 
prioritised, and Bobby is tired of it.

 

He takes a piece of paper from the pile on his desk and scribbles a 
few ideas on it. They will have a dinner to remember. Dinner, wine, 
lovemaking. It will be better than their honeymoon. He taps his pen 
thoughtfully and puts the ideas into his diary. A pair of arms wrap 
around his neck and a chin rests on his shoulder, “You should have 
woken me up,” she whispers sleepily.

He turns his chair around and pulls her onto his lap, “You looked so 
peaceful.”

“I still had my shoes on.”

“I was going to undress you later,” he replies, realising too late how 
ambiguous that sounded.

Lindsay chuckles, “Asleep...awake. Doesn’t really matter to you, does 
it?”

He gives her a withering look, “You know what I mean.”

Lindsay nods at his diary, “What were you writing?”

“Just a reminder for tomorrow.”

“Oh. Are we going to eat?”

“Sure.”

She scrambles out of is lap and pulls him up and with arms wrapped 
around each other they make their way into the kitchen. Neither can 
be bothered cooking. “Leftover pasta or omelette?” Lindsay asks, 
peering into the refrigerator.

“Pasta.”

She removes the Tupperware container and hands it to him. She also 
removes a bottle of red wine and pours them each a glass, “If anything 
sends me to sleep, this will.”

“It’s been a long day,” he accepts the glass she hands to him and takes 
in the aroma of the red liquid.

"Yeah," she agrees, and they once again relapse into a comfortable 
silence.

 

Bobby secretly hopes that Lindsay isn't too tired that night for some 
lovemaking, but judging by her appearance, his hopes are dashed. She 
is wearing one of his T-shirts. The look isn't unattractive, but it 
certainly isn't one intended to arouse. He sighs and pulls the blankets 
up to his chin. There just isn't any romance anymore.

"What's wrong?" Lindsay asks curiously, seeing his expression.

"Nothing," he replies glumly.

"Bobby..."

He scoots next to her and pecks her dutifully on the cheek, "Nothing's 
wrong."

Lindsay scowls and mutters something about moody husbands. She 
switches off the lights and rubs her foot against his calf. No response. 
Hmmm, she thinks. Something is definitely wrong and with that thought 
in mind, falls asleep. 

 

DYDF, 7:30 pm next evening

 

Lindsay waits for Bobby to finish the phone call. The meeting had 
finished almost an hour ago, but a late phone call had prevented them 
from leaving. Bobby looks at his watch and realises with dismay that 
they will be late for their reservation. He watches Lindsay as her 
eyelids droop and her head drops. He can't let her fall asleep, not 
tonight.

"Brian, I have to go. Can we continue this tomorrow?...We have three 
weeks before trial, it is plenty of time for us to go over your 
testimony...we'll talk tomorrow...No, I have to go...Goodnight."

 

Bobby jumps up and strides to Lindsay's side, pulling her up by the 
arms in an attempt to wake her up a little, "Let's go."

"But Bobby-"

"We'll be late."

"Late for what?"

"It's a surprise."

"A surprise? 

He nods.

She raises her eyebrows, "Why, Bobby! It has been a long time since 
you surprised me like this."

He doesn't answer, but pulls her out the door. She follows willingly, 
and allows herself to be bundled into the car.

Rrrr-rrrr-rrrr

Bobby looks at Lindsay and turns the key again.

Rrrr-rrrr-rrrr-cccchhhkkkkk

He pulls his hand away from the key in horror as the final sound is 
emitted.

Lindsay has laughter in her eyes, "That didn't sound too good."

"No." Bobby purses his lips and pops the hood. Lindsay hops out of 
the car and looks at the engine while Bobby fiddles with the battery 
connections. He instructs her to start the car.

Rrrr-rrrr-rrrr.

"Stop!" he yells. Lindsay hops out again.

"It might be the spark plugs," she comments innocently.

He glares at her, "What?"

"I used to have problems with my old car. It was usually the spark 
plugs. That or the distributor," she pauses thoughtfully, weighing up the 
likelihood of the distributor failing. It was a new car after all. "I'd say 
it's the spark plugs."

"I'll call Tony in the morning." He decides, slamming the bonnet.

"Who's Tony?"

"He's a distant cousin. He can come here and fix it."

"I could probably do it," Lindsay comments.

Bobby glares at her, "I will not have you touching my car."

"But Bobby-"

"Are you a mechanic?" he interrupts.

"No."

He collects his briefcase and hers from the car and locks it, "Then I'll 
call Tony in the morning."

Lindsay shrugs off the remark and tucks her arm through his, "It's just 
a car, Bobby."

"It's my car. I have worked my whole life for a car like this, and I 
won't let an amateur mechanic touch it," he replies feelingly.

Lindsay laughs, "It would help if you maintained it a little. You 
know...check the oil every so often, put some coolant in the 
radiator...that kind of thing."

They make it to street level and Bobby waves down a taxi, "Are you 
mocking me?"

"Not at all," she replies innocently.

"I thought women weren't supposed to know anything about cars," he 
muses to himself.

"And I thought men were," she shoots back pointedly.

He grins, "Touché" and opens the door of the taxi that has pulled up 
beside them.

"Where to?" the driver asks.

"Yes, Bobby. Where to?" Lindsay repeats.

He glances at her, realising that he has to spoil the surprise, "The 
Sicilian, on Eighth street."

Lindsay's eyes widen, "Really?"

"It was meant to be a surprise."

"I love it there."

He rubs her arm affectionately, "I know."

"I'm sorry I made fun of you," she lowers her eyes apologetically.

"You are not," he responds knowingly.

"I'm trying to be," she replies.

He moves his hand from her arm to her thigh, "I know."

She nods and covers his hand with her own, "I love you."

"Love you too."

They pull up at the restaurant. Bobby pays the driver and helps 
Lindsay out of the car. She smiles to herself at the royal treatment and 
with her fingers laced through his, they walk inside.

They are asked for a reservation, and Bobby nods with assurance, 
"Donnell, for 8pm."

The maitre di shakes his head, "There is no reservation under that 
name."

"I booked it at lunchtime today."

He gives Bobby a disbelieving glare, "I'm sorry Sir, but you do not 
have a reservation."

Bobby breathes deeply to dispel the anger that is rising, "Do you have 
a table for two?"

"No, we're fully booked tonight," he indicates towards the door, 
"Good night."

Lindsay tugs at Bobby's arm, "Come on, Bobby. We'll go somewhere 
else."

"Good night, Sir." The man repeats.

"Are you accusing me of lying? Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Bobbeeeeeee! C'mon." Lindsay pleads.

"Sir, if you do not leave, I will have you removed."

"We will never eat here again!" Bobby turns on his heel and stalks out 
of the restaurant. Lindsay remains in the restaurant for a moment 
longer taking a last look at the elegant furnishings. She sighs and 
follows him out. They walk down the street, hand in hand, "Did you 
have to say that we'd never eat there again?" she complains.

"We'll find somewhere else, don't worry."

"It was my favourite," she moans. "I wish you could control your 
temper a little better."

"He acted as though I was lying. He was a self righteous little prick."

"This is what I'm talking about. I guess I should be glad that you didn't 
say 'that' to him."

They pass another restaurant and Bobby peeks inside, "This place 
looks nice."

"It looks empty," Lindsay replies also peering through the glass. "That's 
never a good sign."

One of the waiters appears at the door and yells at them in anger. 
They step back from the glass and he takes out a cloth to wipe away 
the marks that they have left there.

"If I ran the firm the way these people run restaurants, I'd be out of 
business," Bobby grimaces as they walked away.

 

Lindsay smiles and enjoys the night air. It is a beautiful night; with a full 
moon smiling down upon them through a cloudless sky and a gentle 
breeze ruffles their hair. Winter is on the way out; giving rise to what 
she knows will be a beautiful spring. She looks up as they pass an old 
fashioned pizza parlour and she turns to Bobby pleadingly.

"Pizza?" she begs.

"But this was supposed to be a romantic night," he protests.

"It is, Bobby. Pizza won't take anything away from that. I really feel 
like pizza."

"I wanted to look at you across a candlelit table."

She looks up, "We have moonlight. It's much more romantic."

He also looks at the moon and considers the suggestion.

A passer-by sees them looking skywards and also looks up curiously, 
but seeing nothing he walks on. 

They laugh. "Pizza in the park," Bobby decides.

"Sounds good."

They order their pizza and Bobby looks at his watch. "Wait here. I'll 
be back in five."

"Bobby-"

"Just wait."

She sits down with a sigh. Bobby looks around him frantically and sees 
what he is looking for. Ten minutes later he is back by Lindsay's side, 
some shopping bags concealing what he has bought. They carry the 
pizza out and Bobby pulls out a blanket with a flourish.

"Where did you get that?" Lindsay laughs.

"I just bought it." He spreads it over the ground and helps Lindsay get 
comfortable. 

"What else do you have in there?"

"These," he produces two plastic cups and a bottle of cheap 
champagne. Lindsay takes the bottle from him and peers at the label in 
the darkness, "It's not Moet, but I guess it will do."

"You are such a snob," he teases.

"I am not!" He gives her a withering look and she laughs. "Okay, 
maybe I am."

They open the champagne and pizza box. Lindsay leans back against 
Bobby and enjoys the taste of the hot pizza. "Mmmm. This is better 
than anything on the Sicilian's menu."

Bobby pulls her closer to him relaxes. The night hadn't turned out the 
way he intended, but it was still romantic. He looks at the pizza, seeing 
that it is already half finished. He is about to comment when Lindsay 
reaches for another slice, "I am so hungry," she comments.

He represses all the witty retorts that popped into his mind, and replies 
mildly, "I can see that." He grabs a slice before she polishes off the 
rest.  

Licking her fingers, Lindsay looks up at Bobby, "We should do this 
more often. We hardly ever go out anymore...I miss that."

"Me too."

"Promise me we won't put our personal lives second to our 
professional ones anymore."

"I promise."

She smiles and tilts her head back to kiss him. He pulls her around to 
make the kissing easier and they settle down on the blanket, making 
out like teenagers.

 

9:00 pm...

 

It is Bobby's yell that makes Lindsay pull back, startled, "What!?"

"Something just bit me."

"What was it?"

"I don't know what it was. You might have noticed that it is dark and I 
was kissing you."

"Where did it get you?"

He reddens, "It got my...uh...butt."

"Let me see," she rolls him over, business like.

He struggles out of her iron like grip, "Not here!"

"Bobby, it might be serious."

"So you're a doctor now? First mechanic, now MD. I never knew you 
were so talented."

"Bobbeeeeee-"

He moves out of her reach, worried that she might make him strip, but 
suddenly feels odd. "I'll be fine," he replies weakly.

"We should at least go home."

"I'll be fine," he repeats adamantly. But he knows that the romantic 
night is over – she will insist on taking him home. 

Lindsay gets to her feet and begins to pack up their belongings. Bobby 
also stands and wavers a little. He steadies himself before attempting 
to help her. They make it back to the street and Lindsay notices how 
pale he has become, with beads of sweat on his forehead. With alarm 
she supports him and looks helplessly for a taxi. There are none in 
sight. Bobby says quietly, "I don't feel very well."

"You look awful," she whips out her cell phone and debates whether it 
is serious enough to warrant calling for an ambulance. She decides that 
it is not and calls instead for a cab. It comes shortly and she bundles 
Bobby into it, "Mass general," she orders.

 

Part two: Batten down the hatches

 

"Lindsay, I'll be okay."

"You're going to the emergency room, no arguments."

His head lolls back and Lindsay suddenly regrets not calling an 
ambulance. She can see that his face and neck are beginning to swell 
and his breathing comes as an irregular rasp. They finally pull up at the 
emergency entrance and Lindsay throws money at the driver, not 
bothering to count it. The driver grins and helps her walk Bobby to the 
ER, before returning to count his money. 

 

Lindsay dumps Bobby onto a spare chair and looks around the 
teeming ER. People cover every available space and there isn't a 
doctor or nurse in sight. Finally, a doctor appears at the nurse's station, 
calmly reading a file. She approaches him at a run, trying to make it to 
him before the other patients see him.

"Can you look at my husband? He's been bitten by something and he's 
having trouble breathing," she tells him breathlessly.

The doctor looks up and takes in Lindsay's panic stricken state, "Sure, 
I'll have a look at him. Where is he?"

She leads him to Bobby, who is now slumped in a semi conscious 
state and watches helplessly as the doctor calls urgently for some help. 
Once safely in an exam room, he turns to Lindsay, "What bit him?"

"We were in a park and he didn't see what it was. It got him on his 
butt."

They strip his trousers off and roll him over, searching for the bite, "I've 
found it!" a nurse exclaims triumphantly. The medical staff crowds 
around her to see it, and Lindsay can't help but smile at the situation. If 
Bobby were more awake, his face would be very red right about now. 
The doctor exclaims, "Bee sting!" and grabs a pair of tweezers, gently 
removing the offending sting, while another jabs Bobby with an 
antihistamine injection.

"Did he know he was allergic to bee stings?" the doctor asks Lindsay, 
who shakes her head numbly.

"It's a hypersensitivity reaction. The body overreacts to an antigen and 
produces too much histamine. So it's not the sting that causes the 
problems, but the body's response. It can be fatal."

Lindsay nods, only half understanding the explanation.

"We can make him less sensitive in the future by injecting him with 
small amounts of the antigen. But we can talk about that later. I want 
to keep him over night for observation; we'll transfer him out of the ER 
soon. In the meantime, I have some forms I need you to fill out."

Lindsay squeezes Bobby's hand and follows the doctor out.

He hands her countless forms and she fumbles in her handbag for her 
favourite pen.

 

10:30 pm...

 

Bobby opens one eye to find that the room has stopped spinning. He 
opens the other and squints as the bright light blinds him. He notices 
immediately that they have moved him out of the ER and into a small 
room with three beds. There is a man lying in the bed next to him and 
Bobby glances at him curiously. He is short, fat and balding and is 
currently focussed intently on a Hustler magazine. Bobby grins with 
amusement and turns his attention to his surroundings. He finds a 
button next to his bed and gazes at it for a while, deciding that as he is 
not connected up to any life support type machinery, it wouldn't kill 
him to press it. Feeling brave he presses the button, silently hoping that 
it is somehow connected to an electric current going into the man lying 
next to him. A nurse appears before him as if by magic and Bobby 
grins, enjoying his newfound power.

"Are you okay, sir?" she asks kindly.

Bobby clears his throat, "Ummm...could I have a glass of water?"

"Sure." She disappears out of the room and comes back with water in 
hand.

"Is that all?"

"Yes. Thank you."

"No problem."

Bobby smiles. The nurses around here are so nice. He wishes Lindsay 
could be like that every so often. After drinking the water and 
analysing his surroundings for a few more minutes, he looks again at 
the tempting little button. He presses it with more confidence this time.

A different nurse appears, but with the same helpful smile, "Is 
something wrong?" she smoothes his blankets absentmindedly.

"No. I just...can I watch the TV?"

"Sure. I'll get you the remote," the shelf on which the remote control is 
placed is high and she reaches up, garnering appreciative sighs from 
the man in the other bed. "Here you go," she hands it to Bobby, 
unawares.

"Thanks."

"Call me if you want anything else."

"Okay," he decides that he could get used to this lifestyle.

 

The pervert looks at Bobby and grins, "She wasn't in the bathroom 
when God handed out the breasts, huh?"

"Excuse me?"

"The nurse. She was ripe enough to eat..." he sees Bobby's 
disapproving expression and coughs with embarrassment. "Never 
mind. I'm Peter Jacobs."

"Bobby Donnell."

"What are you in for?"

"Bee sting."

He laughs uproariously, "Bee sting!? Your kidding, right?"

Bobby frowns defensively, "No. What's wrong with you?"

"I’ve been having some plumbing problems.”

"Oh.”

"They’re threatening to give me an enema.”

Bobby swallows the lump that has suddenly developed in his throat, 
"I'm sorry."

He waves away the sympathy, "Hey. Shit happens...or in my case...it 
doesn’t.” He laughs at his joke and Bobby turns away in disgust. He 
prays quickly to God, asking that he be miles away from the hospital 
when the procedure happens. He wants to be out of hearing, seeing, 
and smelling range. He wrinkles his nose just thinking about it and 
switches on the TV. He flicks through the channels and soon becomes 
bored. He mutes the sound and looks for something else to do.

 

The little red button torments him. He tries to think of an excuse to call 
a nurse back in, but nothing comes to mind.

"Lindsay!" he exclaims suddenly, wondering where she is.

Peter looks over, "What?"

"Oh. My wife. Has she come in yet?"

Peter shakes his head, "Call the nurse."

Bobby grins, "That's exactly what I was thinking."

He presses the button and waits expectantly for the nurse to magically 
appear.

 

But the nurse that appears is not of the young, friendly type. She is 
fierce and glares at him with menace. "Yes?"

"I was wondering if you've...uh...seen my wife?" he asks in a small 
voice, not realising until too late that it is a stupid question.

"Your wife?" she responds coldly. Her eyes bore into his and he looks 
away, suddenly hating that he had pressed the tempting little button.

"Uh...never mind."

"Are you in pain?" she asks.

"I'm married...does that count?" he jokes feebly, regretting his words 
as soon as they are out of his mouth.

"Sir, I don't have time to play games. There are other patients that 
require my assistance." She looks over at the man in the next bed, 
instantly seeing the magazine, and rolls her eyes, "Oh for God's sake." 
She turns her eyes back to Bobby and brusquely examines his chart, 
"I'm authorised to give you some pain medication. It will also help you 
sleep." She leaves the room and returns seconds later with a syringe 
filled with an unidentifiable clear liquid, "I'm not in pain," Bobby 
hurriedly explains.

"Sir, it will help you sleep."

"But I'm fine. Really. I won't bother you again."

"Roll over, Mr. Donnell."

He grimaces and rolls over obediently, he feels the cold sting of the 
needle as the nurse puts her weight behind it. He closes his eyes and 
wishes that the nurse hadn't enjoyed giving the injection as much as she 
obviously did. He finds himself thinking, not for the first time, that the 
night had been a disaster.

"Lindsay," he moans. "I just want to see my wife." His eyes feel heavy 
and he lets his head drop back onto the pillow.

The nurse nods with satisfaction and after glaring once at the pervert in 
the next bed, she leaves the room. She walks back to the nurse's 
station, "Well, I stopped that one from annoying us for a while," she 
tells the others.

"Thank God. He acted like a two year old," nurse number two 
complains. She puts on a voice that sounds incredibly like Bobby's, 
"'Ummm can I have some water?'" she mocks.

Lindsay approaches them and pauses, hearing the last sentence. She 
stops in time to hear another nurse reply, "Girls, he is a man. Of course 
he is going to test out all the little buttons. And of course he is going to 
want us to get him things. You should be used to it by now."

"Well, just because I'm used to it, doesn't mean I have to like it," 
Nurse number two declares

"Exactly," the third nurse agrees.

A buzzer sounds and they laugh. "It's that jerk in room 4, are we 
allowed to put him to sleep too?" nurse number one jokes.

"Unfortunately not. I'll go." Number two leaves as if she is meeting her 
death.

Lindsay pauses at the station, "Can you tell me which room Bobby 
Donnell is in?"

They stare at her in surprise and put on serious faces, "He's in room 
2." She points across the hall.

"Thanks," she walks into the room and watches her sleeping husband. 
She glances at the man in the next bed and whispers a disgusted, "Oh 
please." He leers at her in response and she gives him a tight smile. 

"You must be Lindsay," he begins.

She looks at him quizzically, wondering how he knows her name, 
"Yes."

"I'm Peter Jacobs."

"It's nice to meet you."

"Bobby mentioned you."

"Oh," she replies, glad that he had cleared that up. "He was awake?"

"Yeah, but he had a run in with one ugly nurse."

"Excuse me?"

"He pressed that button one too many times."

"Oh," she says again, suddenly understanding the nurse's conversation 
and smiling ruefully. She had rushed home to pack an overnight bag 
and she places it next to the bed. She stands next to Bobby and 
strokes his forehead gently, he seemed to be sleeping peacefully and 
with a kiss on the cheek, she leaves him to his dreams.

 

*          *          *

 

11:30 pm...

 

Lindsay is walking towards Bobby seductively. Her satin negligee 
swishes around her legs and she blows him a kiss, he doesn't have to 
second guess her intentions. Bobby walks towards her, intent on 
making hot passionate love to her. She begins to slide out of the 
nightgown. He walks faster. He helps her to remove it and begins to 
kiss her hungrily. "Lindsay," he moans. His lips travel from her throat to 
her elbows, where she shrieks with delight. He turns his attention to 
her mouth and feels her tongue massaging the inside of his throat, 
"Mmmmm....Lindsay."

 

He wakes up to a cacophony of noise as a nurse tries unsuccessfully to 
fight him off. His eyes widen in horror as he focuses on the stern face. 
He realises that the mole on her chin is frighteningly close to his mouth 
and leaps backwards, falling off the other side of the bed and tangling 
his feet in a blanket. He hits the floor with a heavy thud, landing on his 
arm. A sharp pain shoots up from his wrist and he unashamedly yells 
out, deafening another nurse who is now standing over him worriedly.

 

Bobby lies on the floor in a cold sweat and identifies the noises that he 
is hearing. There is the loud guffawing coming from Peter, who thinks 
that the whole scene is hilarious, his magazine slides from his hand 
unnoticed. A nurse is still screaming hysterically, her blouse half 
unbuttoned and her hair tousled. She is being comforted by another 
nurse, who provides soothing background noises.

"He just started...tearing at my clothes and he was...it was so 
gross...he was kissing me. And...oh my god...he tried...who the hell 
likes that kind of thing...he was...sucking my elbows. I've never felt 
anything so disgusting in my life...it was sick...his tongue...I'm going to 
throw up." She puts her head onto the other nurse's shoulder, who 
gives Bobby a disgusted look. Bobby tries to look contrite, but finds 
his face twisting with pain. 

"I think I hurt my arm," he tells no one in particular.

"The doctor's on his way," a female voice informs him. She offers a 
hand, "Here, let me help you get up."

"Thanks," he peers through sleep heavy eyelids at her. She 
disentangles his feet from the blanket and gently takes his undamaged 
arm, helping him to stand. "Are you okay?" she asks.

"I think so," he tenderly touches his wrist and feels the nerves jump.

"I'll go and see what's keeping Doctor Morrison."

"Thanks."

She returns moments later with the doctor in tow, "Mr. Donnell. I hear 
that you've been harassing out nurses."

Bobby blushes furiously, "I'm sorry...I thought...I was dreaming..." he 
stammers.

The doctor grins, "Let me look at that arm."

Bobby holds out his arm, and the doctor inspects it, "I think we need 
to X-Ray it."

"You're kidding me."

"I'm not. Let's get you to out of here." 

Bobby stands, but stops indecisively by the nurse, "I'm sorry. I was 
dreaming...my wife..." he trails off, realising that he has sent the tough 
looking nurse back into hysterics. The doctor pushes him towards the 
door and he leaves the chaos behind him.

 

12:30 am...

 

Bobby returns to the hospital room with a bandage on his arm. The 
doctor had decided that his arm was badly bruised, but not broken 
and had sent him back with a bandage and a prescription for 
painkillers. He had laughed off the incident, but Bobby harbours more 
serious concerns. The friendly nurse helps him back into bed, tucking 
him in tightly. She is so maternal that he almost expects her to kiss him 
goodnight, but alas she does not.

"Sweet dreams," she says instead, her words chosen carefully and her 
amusement obvious.

"I think sweet dreams have gotten me into enough trouble for one 
night," he answers ruefully.

She laughs and closes the door, enshrouding him in darkness. It is only 
when he lies back that he realises that Peter has fallen asleep and the 
noise that fills the room is not coming from the AC as he first 
suspected. The snoring is intolerable. Bobby buries his head in his 
pillow, trying to shut out the noise. It doesn't work. It sounds like a 
freight train, complete with foghorn, whistles, alarms and screams from 
the passengers. No...the screams are in his mind. He groans and rolls 
over with frustration, angling his head to reduce the impact of the 
snores on his eardrum.

 

1:30 am...

 

Bobby grits his teeth, unable to bear the noise any longer. He picks up 
his pillow and aims carefully, throwing it at he head of the fat man. It 
hits its target and Bobby proudly flexes his arm. Still got it, he thinks to 
himself. The snoring has stopped and although now pillowless, Bobby 
thinks the discomfort will be worth it.  He closes his eyes blissfully, 
only to have them open, startled, as the noise begins again.

"Noooooo!" he groans in despair. This has been the worst night of his 
life. To amuse himself until morning, he recaps his evening, wishing that 
he had a pen and paper to record the disasters for posterity.

 

It started, he realises, with the annoying phone call from Brian. He 
wishes that he had been more assertive with the man. Then the car 
wouldn't start; the restaurant couldn't find their reservation, he had 
been bitten by a bee, he had committed sexual assault, sprained his 
arm and now this. It was just too much. He almost wished the nurse 
had put him out of his misery. An idea strikes him and he slaps his 
forehead, chastising himself for not coming up with the idea earlier. He 
scowls at Peter, blaming him for the slow thinking and without further 
thought, he presses the red button.

 

A nurse, not one that he recognises, opens the door and looks at him 
expectantly. 

"I'm in pain," he lies.

The nurse is seemingly oblivious to the snoring and checks his chart, 
"You've already been administered with the maximum dose of codeine. 
I can't give you any more."

"But I'm in pain."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Donnell. But I can't give you anything." She smiles 
sympathetically and begins to walk away.

"Wait!" he begs.

She pauses and turns to face him.

"Can you get me my pillow?"

"Did it fall off your bed?"

"No. It's...uh...over there," he points to Peter's bed.

The nurse frowns, puzzled, and collects the pillow, "Were you having a 
pillow fight?"

Bobby is embarrassed, "No. He was snoring...I..."

The nurse looks at him, the disapproval obvious, "Mr. Donnell. This is 
not a place for games. Now please, go to sleep."

Bobby bites his tongue to keep back the retort that he was 'trying' to 
get to sleep. "I'm sorry," he replies meekly.

She closes the door and Bobby sighs again. The snoring is louder and 
even more disturbing this time, but he is determined not to let it bother 
him. He closes his eyes and decides that he will never ever try to be 
romantic again. He will take boring indifference to this any day.

 

6:00 am...

 

Bobby wakes up surprised that he had actually managed to get some 
sleep. He looks up to find that a nurse is nervously hovering over him. 
She leaps back when he wakes and smiles apologetically.

"I was warned that you molest nurses," she laughs.

"It was a mistake," he explains inadequately.

"That's what they all say. How are you feeling?"

"Fine. Can I go home today?"

"It's up to the doctor. Dr. Morrison should be here in about an hour."

"Okay. Thanks."

"I can bring you breakfast if you like?"

He nods, "Yes, please."

While waiting for his breakfast, he looks over at Peter, who is now 
breathing quietly, and sends a few hate vibes his way. That done he is 
ready to concentrate on his meal.

 

7:00 am...

 

"Mr. Jacobs," the nurse shakes Peter to wake him. Bobby watches as 
the man stirs and eventually wakes.

"Mr. Jacobs? The doctor says that today is the day."

"Wha-?" the man mumbles unintelligibly.

"I'm afraid, as you have had no bowel movements...the doctor told 
you this would happen"

Bobby turns away, nauseated. He wishes that he hadn't just finished 
his breakfast.

Peter grins at Bobby, "I guess this is it. Good luck, man." 

"You too."

Peter gets out of bed and follows the nurse. "Oh wait!" he exclaims 
and picks up his Hustler magazine, handing it to Bobby, "You may as 
well have this."

"Oh...thanks." Bobby mutters.

Bored, he flicks through the magazine. He hears a laugh from the 
doorway and looks up to find Lindsay standing there. He looks from 
Lindsay to the magazine and back to Lindsay again, "It's not what you 
think," he begins.

 

Part 3: Taking stock of the damage

 

She holds up her hands, "I don't want to know Bobby. I just didn't 
realise that you liked that kind of thing."

"It was Peter's," he explains inadequately, throwing the magazine in the 
direction of Peter's bed.

"I see," she replies, with an amused smile, sitting on the edge of his 
bed.

Bobby can see that she clearly does 'not' see, "He loaned it to 
me...he's having an...uh...procedure. So he offered it to me," he stops, 
frustrated that he can't get the words out right. 

"So you two became friends?"

"No! It was just an impulse on his part. I didn't want it...he just gave it 
to me."

"Oh. So that was why you were focussing intently on the centre page? 
Who is it? Miss January?"

Bobby remains silent, realising that no words could salvage him from 
this situation.

Lindsay grins, enjoying his discomfort, but, deciding that she has 
tormented him enough, changes the subject, "How are you feeling?"

Bobby is surprised at the sympathy in her expression, "I'm fine."

"What happened to your arm?" she asks, seeing the bandage for the 
first time.

He looks at his arm, remembering the horrors of the night. "Nothing," 
he replies stonily.

She is puzzled and tries to find the right tone of voice for the situation, 
"Bobby..." she warns.

"Lindsay, it is nothing. Nothing happened....can we go?" he asks 
hurriedly.

She hides her frustration at his reluctance to talk about it and replies, "I 
want to talk to the doctor."

"That's really not necessary."

"Bobby. We are not leaving. Why don't you go and shower and I'll 
wait here."

He frowns with worry. He doesn't want Lindsay to be alone with the 
doctor, but sees that she has one of those "don't argue" expressions on 
her face. An expression he knows well.  He sighs and meekly takes 
the overnight bag into the adjoining bathroom. 

His shower is taken at light speed, and he is dressed and clean and by 
her side within a matter of minutes. Lindsay is even more puzzled by 
this but says nothing.

The doctor appears and grins when he sees Bobby, "Had any more 
dreams?" he jokes.

Lindsay looks at him as though he is crazy. She sees the hustler 
magazine and wonders if the "dreams" have anything to do with that. 
Maybe Bobby was reading it with the doctor? No. Bobby isn't that 
type of man. She frowns...or is he? She turns to him curiously to see 
that he is pulling faces at the doctor. He stops when Lindsay turns his 
way and replies casually, "Are you going to discharge me, doc?"

"Yes. Clean bill of health. Don't forget to get that prescription filled and 
follow the directions."

"No problem," Bobby jumps up and grabs the bag. "Thanks," he calls 
out on his way out the door.

Dr. Morrison looks seriously at Lindsay, but she can see a hint of a 
smile. “A caution with the medication...” he begins. “It had a strange 
effect on him last night. If I were you, I’d stay out of touching range.” 
His now broad smile contrasts with what Lindsay sees as serious 
advice. 

“Okay.” she tucks the advice in a ‘think-about-later’ neuron.

“You must have quite a relationship,” he comments innocently.

"Yes we do. Although half the time, I have no idea what is going on," 
she frowns again.

"It was certainly an interesting night," he tells her cryptically. "Good 
luck."

He is gone before Lindsay can ask why she needs luck.

"Lindsay! C'mon!" Bobby whines from outside.

She meets him in the corridor, arms crossed, “Bobby. What is going 
on?”

“Nothing at all, Lindsay. I just want to get out of here.”

“Fine,” she mumbles.

As they walk through the hospital, passers-by whisper and point and 
Bobby hopes that Lindsay’s powers of observation are low. Lindsay 
sees the strange looks and giggles from the nurses and a frown once 
again mars her face. She has no idea what happened the night before, 
but she is certain that she will get it out of him somehow. They make it 
to Lindsay’s car and Bobby sees it, “Where’s my car?” he complains.

She gives him a frosty look, “Its at the office...remember?”

“Oh. Yeah...” he walks around to the drivers side, “Where are the 
keys?”

She holds them up. “You’re not driving.”

“What...because of my arm? I can drive.”

“You are apparently on pain medication...I don’t know ‘why’ you are 
on pain medication, but since you are, it is not safe for you to drive.” 
She stands her ground and he stomps moodily around to the other 
side.

Once seated, she begins, “What happened?”

Bobby broods over his answer, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You are going to talk to me now, or else-“

“Or else...what?”

She smiles sweetly, “I take you home and stop you from working for a 
week.”

“You wouldn’t”

“I would.”

“It’s just...embarrassing. You'll laugh.”

“Tell me,” she urges.

"The nurse put me to sleep..."

Lindsay chuckles, “You sound as though you’re a dog and she 
euthanased you.”

He gives her a dirty look, “Can I continue please?”

“Sure. Sorry.”

“Well I had a very vivid dream.”

Lindsay remembers the doctor’s comments and feels a twinge of 
concern. She waits for Bobby to continue, seeing that he is struggling 
to find the right words.

“The dream was about you.”

Lindsay looks at him suddenly...this she hadn’t expected.

“Watch the road.” he warns.

She turns her gaze back to the road in front of her, “About me?”

“Yes. It was...er...erotic.”

She continues to gaze steadily ahead, not sure whether she wants to 
hear what happened next.

“You know how I sometimes have the tendency to act out my dreams 
as they are happening?” he begins.

Lindsay nods, his dreamtime theatrics were once amusing, but she had 
been kicked one too many times for it to be funny any longer.

“Well, there was a nurse standing over me at the time. I think she was 
checking my pulse...or something...I don’t know...But I thought she 
was you....I thought you were moaning with delight...but it was the 
nurse...um...screaming.” he mumbles something at the end and looks to 
Lindsay for a reaction. She is steadfastly staring at the road, but on 
closer observation, he can see that her shoulders are shaking in an 
effort to control the laughter.

“It’s not funny,” he tells her hotly.

“I’m sorry...” the mirth bubbles over again. “I missed the ending.”

“I said, she was going to sue me for sexual assault.”

Lindsay imagines the scene and with amusement asks, “What else did 
you do?”

“In my dream, I was...undressing you...and sucking your elbows...” he 
pales, just thinking about it.

Although she feels a twinge of jealousy at him sucking someone else’s 
elbows, she tells herself that she has missed the point, “That’s all?”

He covers his eyes, “Isn’t that enough?”

Lindsay takes a deep breath to stop the giggles, “Why isn’t she suing? 
What changed her mind?

“The doctor convinced her that I hadn’t intended to molest her. I 
apparently called out your name while I had my tongue down her 
throat.”

The laughter begins again and Bobby waits for it to die down.

“It really isn’t funny,” he protests grumpily.

“How...” she hiccups “...how could she understand you if you had 
your tongue down her throat?”

“I don’t know. It’s not something I dwelled on.”

Lindsay looks at him, his serious expression dulls her laughter briefly, 
“Oh Bobby. I wish I had been there...with a video camera,” she begins 
to laugh again. “We could have played it on our fiftieth wedding 
anniversary.”

“Sure. Laugh at my expense.”

Lindsay tries to control the laughter but finds that she sounds like she is 
choking, “I’m sorry. So how did you hurt your arm?”

He reddens and mumbles something.

“What?”

“I fell off the bed.”

“You fell off the bed?!” she wants to ask how, but she is now shrieking 
with laughter and the tears are beginning to well in her eyes.

Bobby remains in a stony silence.

“Why? How?” Lindsay chokes out.

“I was so surprised...I kind of leapt backwards...my foot tangled in the 
blanket...”

Lindsay pictures the scene and Bobby sees her desperate attempts to 
look serious.

“Go ahead and laugh.”

She does and when they stop at the next set of traffic lights, she leans 
over and kisses him. “Thank you. I haven’t laughed this much in a long 
time.”

“I’m glad that I can make your day brighter,” he replies grumpily.

“Oh Bobby. I’m sorry. But surely you see that it’s funny?”

“No. I don’t like to laugh at another person’s misfortunes.”

"I'm not laughing at you, I'm laughing with you."

"I'm not laughing, Lindsay. I have just survived the worst night of my 
life. On top of the sexual assault, my 'good friend' Peter wouldn't stop 
snoring. I got no sleep."

"It was a disastrous night," she concedes with amusement. Who would 
have thought so much could go wrong? "Are you feeling up to going to 
work?" she asks, knowing the answer. Bobby would have to be in a 
coma to decide not to go to work.

"Of course."

"Have you had some painkillers today?"

"Yes. This morning," he thinks about the horrid little pills that had been 
forced down his throat by a nurse reminiscent of nazi torturers.

"Well..." she pauses for effect. "...in that case, maybe you should stay 
away from clients today." She laughs at her joke but receives only a 
glare from Bobby. "I'm sorry. I won't laugh again. I'll get your 
prescription filled this afternoon, okay?"

"Thanks." He is glad that she seems to have finally developed some 
sensitivity for his situation. They pull into the office garage and Lindsay 
parks next to Bobby's car. He looks at it longingly, "I'll call Tony 
today," he says to Lindsay.

She rolls her eyes. 'Well, at least he has forgotten the previous night' 
she consoles herself.

They make their way up to the office. Everyone sees the bandage 
immediately and ask in varying tones of concern, "What happened?"

Bobby reddens, "Nothing."

"Bobby had a run in with an angry bee and a horny nurse," she giggles 
and turns to Bobby, "Or did I mix that up?"

Bobby groans, "I thought you weren't going to laugh anymore."

"Oh Bobby. You should be glad that you're making me laugh."

"Yeah. Being married to you can't be much fun," Lucy jumps in.

"Lucy!" Lindsay admonishes with a grin.

The others look on in amusement, but realise that nothing has been 
explained.

"What happened?" Ellenor asks again, a broad smile covering her face. 
If Lindsay's giggles are anything to go by, it sounds like it could be a 
laugh.

"I'll let Bobby explain," Lindsay replies mysteriously.

"Yes, you've said enough," he agrees.

"I got stung by a bee," he begins.

Lindsay jumps in, "You should have seen him...he blew up like a 
balloon."

"I thought I was explaining."

"I'm just adding a visual element."

They stare each other down and Lindsay drops her eyes first, allowing 
him to continue. The rest of the firm still look confused and wish that 
'someone' would explain.

"How did you get bitten?" Jimmy asks with a puzzled frown. "It was 
cold outside. Why were you outside?"

"Can I finish?" Bobby complains.

"He's got a point," Rebecca interjects.

"We were outside..." he turns to Lindsay in desperation. 
"Lindsay...explain."

"You said that you wanted to tell the story," she retorts.

He gives her a dirty look. "I need some help here...and by the 
way...doesn't anybody have work to do?"

"I'm free." Rebecca assures him.

"Me too," Jimmy nods.

"I'm not due in court for an hour," Ellenor looks at her watch.

"I've got some time," Eugene adds.

"Hey...I'm always here," Lucy finishes brightly.

"We need to bring the drug dealers back...at least they kept 
everybody busy." Bobby mumbles to himself. Lindsay hears him and 
punches him lightly on the shoulder.

"Ouch," he winces.

"Oh! Sorry," she rubs the damaged arm.

"Is this going to take all day?" Rebecca asks.

Bobby makes a rash decision to leave the room. Lindsay can explain 
and he'll wait in his office until they finish laughing. He congratulates 
himself for his smart thinking and promptly disappears into his office.

"Wha-?" Lindsay laughs.

"Okay, Lindsay. Now that he's gone, you can tell us everything," 
Ellenor says eagerly 

Lindsay sees the expectant faces and decides to take the high road, 
"There's nothing really to tell."

"Ohhhhhhh. C'mon Lindsay. You can't make a comment about bees 
and nurses and leave it at that. We need details," Lucy whines.

"We were...eating pizza...in a park and Bobby was bitten by a bee. He 
swelled, I rushed him to the emergency room and they admitted him."

"Bobby was in hospital?" Rebecca interrupts with concern.

"It wasn't serious."

"So how did he hurt his arm."

Lindsay sighs, she desperately wants to tell them, but sees Bobby 
watching her from his office. "Here's what we're going to do..." she 
steps closer and turns her back to Bobby's stare

 

*          *          *

 

"Hey Linds. Here's that file that you wanted."

"Thanks Bec."

"I have some questions about it."

"Sure. We can talk now if you like," Lindsay smiles and they walk into 
the conference room and close the door.

"So what happened?" Rebecca asks eagerly.

 

*          *          *

 

Bobby hears an eruption of giggles coming from the conference room 
and looks at Lucy questioningly, "Who's in there?"

Lucy, who has already heard the gossip, says innocently, "Rebecca."

He hears an unmistakable laugh.

Lucy sees his look and adds quickly, "And Lindsay. They're discussing 
a case."

He strides to the door and opens it, "What's going on?"

Rebecca covers her mouth, "Nothing, Bobby. We were discussing a 
case. Actually it is a sexual assault case. Maybe you could share some 
of your experiences?"

"Lindsay..."

"Yes?"

"You'll pay for this."

She nods, accepting her fate, "It will be worth it."

 

*          *          *

 

Bobby walks into the living room of their apartment later that night. He 
sees Lindsay writing something in her diary and pauses, "Are you 
working?" 

She looks up with a sly smile and shakes her head, "No. Just writing a 
reminder for tomorrow."

He gives her a pained look, "A reminder for what?"

"I was thinking of organising a romantic night for the two of us. We'll 
start by getting ourselves thrown out of every restaurant in Boston and 
I was thinking of ending it with a trip to the ER...just for variety."

"I am never being romantic again," he moans.

She wraps her arms around him, "I loved last night."

He likes having her close and pulls her closer. "Really?"

She kisses his nose, "Really..." she considers him thoughtfully. "Have 
you taken your pills yet?"

"I just took them."

"When do you think they'll kick in?"

"Soon...why?"

"I want to be ready when they do," she pulls him into the bedroom.

He laughs. Maybe the night hadn't been a complete waste after all.

 

THE END