Please see Part 1 for disclaimers and archiving information.

"From The Top", Part 32/33
By Clotho (clothomoerae@hotmail.com) and Cathy (huntersglenn@yahoo.com)

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

The game didn't go well.  About two minutes after Dave got reinvolved with
the game after Carter's comment the Ravens scored a field goal.  Just like
that.  Bam.  One moment they had 7 points and the next 10.  It wasn't good
at all.  The burger had long since turned to ashes in Dave's mouth as he
stared at the half time show.  He did his best to cheer himself up -- after
all the Giants weren't just a good team, they were New Yorkers.  They could
do anything.  Anything at all.  And if the Ravens had got 10 points up in
the first half there was nothing to say that the Giants couldn't go 20 up
in the second half.  Nothing at all.

It finally quieted down enough for John to fall asleep, but then he was
awakened abruptly by shouting.  Specifically, by Jerry shouting, "No, no,
no."

"I gotta see this," John muttered to himself as he got to his feet and put
on his gear.  He was rubbing his eyes as he walked out toward the desk.
"What's going on?"

"Raven's just scored another touchdown, man.  It's Seventeen to nothing,"
Malik crowed.

John looked up at the TV, then at Dave's sour expression.  "Cheer up,
Malucci.  Sometimes the losers get pretty good prizes."

Dave didn't get it.  He didn't get why Carter was talking double meanings
in front of everyone.  He was sure that they'd get it.  They weren't
stupid.  And he didn't get why the Giants didn't kick the Ravens' ass.  And
he didn't see how a game that should have been fun to watch had become so
horrible.  Then he looked up.  The Giants had the ball.  They were running,
running.  "Touchdown!"  Dave leapt to his feet in celebration.   Everything
would turn out all right

John couldn't help but smile as he watched Dave celebrate the touchdown.
He didn't want to ruin the moment by pointing out that the Ravens still had
a pretty big lead and that it would be very difficult for the Giants to
win.  He could let Dave celebrate.  The door to Exam 1 opened and Luka
stepped out, blinking in the light.

"Game over yet?"  he asked as he headed toward the lounge.

"Not yet," John replied.  "They're in the third quarter."   John was lucky
enough to have heard the announcer say that.

"Mmmm."  Luka said and then he disappeared behind the lounge door.
Probably going for coffee, John thought.  "Anyone want a cup of coffee?"
John asked as he watched the Giants kick off the ball, and then his heart
leapt into his throat as he saw a Ravens player catch it and run all the
way to the goal line, scoring yet again.

"Yes!"  Malik shouted, jumping up and down, then hugging Chuny and Lydia.
"Yes, yes, yes."  He spotted Carter.  "Carter, my man, you are going to be
one hundred dollars richer in about an hour from now!  Twenty-four to
seven, there is *no* way the Giants can come back from that. No way."

John looked over at Dave and smiled, then he settled into one of the
wheelchairs. "Might as well watch them earn me some money," he said.

"Course they can."  Dave scoffed.  "That's only three touchdowns.
Giants'll be able to do that real easy now they've got started.  Cheating
ref just put them off their stride that's all."

"That was back in the first quarter, Dave.  If it takes them that long to
recover then the game will be over by the time they're ready to make
another touchdown."  John said, laughing.

Dave made a face.  "They're on their way now.  Go Giants.  Go.   Go.  Go."

John laughed.  "I'm telling you, they'll never make it."  And by the time
the players flooded the field as the clock reached '0', John was proved
right.  Not only did the Giants *not* make another score, but they had been
unable to prevent the Ravens from scoring twice more, with a final score of
34 - 7.

John clapped Dave on the shoulder.  "Cheer up, Malucci, it's only money
after all."  John grinned as he held his hand out.  "So pay up."

"Who won the pool?"  Lydia asked as she looked at her numbers.

Jerry groaned.  "I don't believe it.  It can't be."

"Who?"  Malik asked. "Weaver?"

"Kovac."

John laughed.  "I think he fell back to sleep on the couch in the lounge.
Someone should go and wake him with the good news."

Dave stared at the TV screen.  He couldn't believe it.  The Giants had
lost.  They'd lost big time.  He pulled his wallet out of his pocket and
stared at it.  He had to pay up -- but he didn't have the money.  Not in
his wallet anyway.  "The Giants were going to win."

John looked from the wallet in Dave's hand to Dave's face and heard the
tone of his voice.  He slowly grinned.  "You don't have the money, do you,
Malucci?  Hey, guys, Malucci went and bet me a hundred dollars and now he
doesn't have the money." John shook his head.  "Now, let's see, when I lost
my playoff bets to him, *I* paid up in a timely manner.  I didn't even
argue when I had to do his scut work, did I, Chuny?"

She laughed.  "You didn't.  He put the screws to you big time, Carter."

"Yes, he did," John agreed, locking his eyes on Dave's.

"Well, I think that turn about is fair play," Malik said.  "If he doesn't
have the money to honor the bet, then he'll have to find another way to pay
you, won't he?"  Malik walked over to Dave, shaking his head.  "What do you
say, Dr. Dave?  Are you willing to work off your debt?"

John nodded his eyes still on Dave's.  "Yeah, Dave.  Are you willing to
work off your debt?  *All* of it?"

Dave turned his face toward Carter's.  Carter's words penetrated his mind
slowly, then he understood them.  He owed Carter twenty-four hours of
anything.  Anything.  Anything Carter asked for.  And Carter wanted it to
start right here right now.  Dave felt his face turn bright, bright red.
Carter couldn't want him to kiss him right here right now in front of all
these people he couldn't.  Dave felt frozen to the spot.  He'd promised
Carter *anything*.

John watched as Dave's cheeks, his entire face even, turned red.  "I think
we should give him time to think about it.  In the meantime," John looked
at Malik and grinned.  "Maybe you, Jerry and Chuny could think of some
things Dave could do for me.  That is, *if* he can't come through with the
money."

Malik and Jerry high-fived each other and Chuny smiled wickedly.  She was
the one who spoke.  "Oh, I'm sure we can find a long list of things for Dr.
Dave to do."

Dave found himself able to breathe as Carter's words sunk in.  It wouldn't
be right here, right now he was safe.  Safe.  Dave looked away from
Carter.  "It's fine.  I've got it.  Just need to get to the bank."

"Yeah, right.  The bank. It's Sunday night, my man.  What kind of bank is
open now?"  Malik asked.  "I think if you're going to make Carter wait
until tomorrow for his money then you owe him some kind of interest."

John nodded. "I think Malik's right.  You owe me *some* interest for making
me wait, Dave."

"Interest?"  Dave stood up.  He was in control here.

"Yes, Dave, interest.  And I think it starts accruing right *now*," John
said, still grinning.

"Oh come off it, Carter."  Dave hoped he could bluff his way out of this
one.

"No, I think it's only fair." John reached into his right front pocket and
pulled out a wad of bills.  "One hundred dollars, in twenties.  *I* was
prepared to pay you if the Giants had won.  *I* didn't expect you to wait
for payment, so why should I be inconvenienced by having to wait?"

"Carter's right, Dr. D., interest is only fair," Jerry said.

Dave looked around the gathered group.  There didn't seem to be anyone on
his side.  "Fine.  Interest.  But without that call the Giants *would* have
won."  He just hoped that Carter wouldn't ask for anything awful.  Carter
couldn't.  He just couldn't.  He'd been hinting enough though.

John laughed.  "Dave, they lost, THIRTY-FOUR to seven.  They still would
have lost if it had been thirty-four to fourteen.  So quit your whining.
Be a man, suck it up and admit that you got too cocky."

Dave stared at Carter.  Cocky -- what did he mean by cocky?  Why was he
saying these things in front of everyone?  It just wasn't right.
"Whatever.  So what's the interest?"

John looked over at his support group.  "I don't know. What do you all
think?  Should it be money or labor?  Maybe I should have him come out to
the house to scrub our bathrooms?  We've only got about ten of them."

Chuny laughed.  "Labour.  You've got enough cash Carter.  Besides you can't
put a price on Malucci scrubbing a toilet bowl."

Malik laughed too.  "Labour.  But here.  Can't watch him at your place."

Dave looked over at Jerry, hoping for help.  "You bet on the Giants, too."

Jerry grinned.  "I paid up. Labour."

John looked thoughtful.  "I guess labor, done here, would be good.  But how
much?  One hour of labor for every day he's late paying?"

"I'm not late.  It's in the bank."

Jerry nodded.  "Coffee mugs in the lounge'll take a while.  Better make it
two."

John ignored Dave as he listened to Jerry.  "Two hours for every day he's
late then?  Sounds reasonable."  He turned to Dave.  "I think that should
do it.  After all, Dave, a little hard work never hurt anyone, did it?"

Dave made a face.  "Fine."  At least Carter was focussing on this and not
on making him do...other stuff here.  That would be far worse.  It was a
sad day though when something was far worse than being made to clean out
the slime in the bottom of the ER fridge -- or whatever it was that Carter
would pick for him.

John laughed again.  "You are such a sore loser.  It's going to be such a
joy to redeem this bet."

Carter was just teasing him.  Dave knew that.  "I'm gonna pay.  The money's
in the bank."

John quit laughing and looked directly at Dave.  "I wasn't talking about
the money, Dave.  I was talking about just how sweet it's going to be to
collect on the rest of it."

Why couldn't Carter just get to setting him some tasks instead of this
taunting?  If Dave'd won, he wouldn't have mentioned it at work -- not
once.  He was sure he wouldn't have.  He hadn't *once* threatened to make
Carter do *that* stuff at work when he'd won. Not once.

Patients began to filter in, some from bar fights, some from fights at
private homes or apartments.  But all were due to the Super Bowl.  The
staff worked steadily until midnight, and then gratefully turned over the
reins to the next shift.  John stood at his locker and glanced down the row
at Dave. He wished they were alone in the lounge, but Luka was in there,
happily counting out his money and bragging to Abby about how he'd won the
big football pool while asleep.

"Hey, Malucci, since it's so late, how about if I drop you off on my way
home?  It's not out of the way and that way you don't have to ride your
bike through the snow."  John said as he put away his lab coat and grabbed
his suit jacket.  He grinned.  "Besides, I have to protect my investment.
I can't risk having you spin out on the ice, can I?"

Dave looked at Carter.  The guy had been anything but kind to him since the
game finished.  He'd kept on hearing about the list that Chuny was making
with disgusting tasks.  And hearing double-edged references to the *other*
part of the bet.  And here was another one.  Dave glanced nervously over at
Kovac and Abby, trying to guess if they'd heard and understood.

Luka merely nodded at him.  "Good idea, Carter."

Dave turned away.  Didn't Carter get how dangerous this all was?  All the
same a warm jeep ride did seem a better than a snowy ride on a cold night
-- especially as he'd have to go off his direct route to get to a money
machine.  "Sure.  Okay."

John nodded, then he reached for his overcoat.  "Great."  He grabbed his
bag and shut the locker door.  "So, Luka, what are you going to do with all
your winnings?"

"He'd better be taking me out to dinner," Abby said with a smile.

"But Abby, you didn't have anything to do with the bet.  *I* picked out the
numbers," Luka said.  Abby stared back at him and he started to laugh.   "It
was a joke, Abby.  I already had thought of taking you out someplace
special."

John laughed.  "I think you're making an excellent choice there, Luka.  An
excellent choice."  He looked over at Dave.  "You ready to go?"

"Sure.  Just gotta get my bike.  Where're you parked?"  Dave pulled his
jacket on as he headed for the door.

"So John, what will you do with your hundred dollars -- when you get it?"
Abby asked.

"I don't know," John said, momentarily ignoring Dave's question.  "I was
thinking maybe some massage oil or something like that.  But then I'll have
to find someone to apply it.  Got any suggestions?"  He asked as he, too
headed for the door.

Dave walked through the door.  Carter had just fucking done it again.  It
wasn't right.  Not right at all.  He almost didn't care if he got the ride
home or not.  His bike was chained up in the ambulance bay.  He'd go there,
and if Carter hadn't bothered to say anything by then he'd just leave.
Just leave.

Abby laughed. "Well, I think there's this x-ray tech that has a crush on
you."

"Really?" John grinned.  "Who?"

"Angela."

"No way."

Abby nodded.  "I think she does."

"Well, that's a surprise.  I'll keep her in mind.  Thanks."  John left the
lounge and saw that Dave had left.  He wasn't really upset was he?  After
all, Dave had ridden him mercilessly when *he* had won his bets.  Payback
was only fair.  "There you are," John said as he saw Dave at his bike.
"Want me to bring the Jeep over to you or do you just want to walk it to
the car?"

"Whatever.  Where is it?"

"In the parking garage.  I got lucky this morning."  John said.   It had
been great to pull into the parking garage and actually find a free spot
for a change.

Carter just couldn't stop it -- could he?  All shift it had been like
that.  So many comments.  Dave finished unlocking his bike, and nearly got
on it then and there to ride away, but he didn't.  He turned it in the
direction of the parking garage and started walking.  *He* could be an
adult -- or something -- even if Carter couldn't.

John fell into step behind Dave.  "I can't remember the last time I was
lucky enough to get a spot in the garage.  It seems that most of the time
I'm stuck out on the street.  Hey, I think Chuny and them are just about
finished with your list, but I think that if you play nice tonight, I won't
make you do the worst of the things on it."  John said.

Dave scowled as Carter spoke.  Play nice?  He couldn't believe Carter was
blackmailing him over this, had been ever since the game ended.  It just
wasn't right.  He speeded up his pace a little, and soon turned into the
parking garage and peered around looking for the Jeep.

The outside lights were bright enough for John to see it when Dave
scowled.  Why was he in such a foul mood?  Was he truly that upset over the
Giants losing the Super Bowl?  It just didn't make any sense to John.  "I'm
parked over there," John said when he saw Dave looking around.  "Perk up,
Dave, maybe the Giants will make it to the Super Bowl next year and even
win."

"Yeah.  Maybe."  Dave stood by the boot and waited for Carter to open it so
he could lift his bike in.

John frowned as he opened the back window, then lowered the tailgate.
"When's your next day off?"  He wanted to collect on the rest of the bet at
a time when they were both away from work.  When they had those twenty-four
hours to themselves and didn't have to share them with anyone else.

"Thursday again."  Dave lifted the bike into the back, then slammed it
shut, and trotted around to wait by his door.  He could do this.  He could
wait.  He didn't need to tell
every-fucking-single-person-in-the-entire-Chicago-area what they'd been
doing.  He could wait.  And he would.

John thought for a moment, then went around to open the passenger door.
"I'm not off then, but I think I can trade off with someone.  I want our
twenty-four hours to be spent at your place, and not a single bit of it at
work, if I can arrange it, that is."

Dave scowled at Carter, then looked around the garage to try and see if
anyone had heard.  He couldn't *see* anyone, but that didn't mean
anything.  For all he knew the entire ER staff was trailing them to try and
find out why Carter had been saying all those things for hours.  Dave
opened the door and got in, and slammed it shut.

John sighed as Dave practically slammed the door in his face.  He walked
around to his side and got in, wondering just what it would take to get
Dave into a good mood.  As he pulled out of the parking lot and into the
street an idea popped into John's head.  He smiled.  "I was thinking of
maybe wearing what I wore last Thursday.  What do you think?"

Dave turned to Carter.  They were moving now.  Even if someone outside the
Jeep heard they wouldn't know who it was and they'd be going too fast for
anyone to hear much anyway.  It was safe.  "What the fuck do you mean by
all that stuff?  Getting lucky?  Playing nice?  Protecting your fucking
investment?  Massage oil?"  Dave's memory ran out.  "They're not stupid you
know."

John's mouth dropped open as he listened to Dave's rant.  After all he had
to put up with when he lost his bets to Dave -- washing out bedpans for
Christ's sake.  That had been horrible.  But had John complained?  Hell,
no.  He had done it and he had listened to Dave picking on him without
striking back.  "You know what, Malucci?  You're a sore loser.  A very sore
loser.  And you owe me one hundred dollars and twenty-four hours of
anything and everything I want, so yeah, I guess that does make you my
'fucking investment', because there's going to be as much of that as I can
get away with come Thursday.  You were all ready to lord it over me if the
Giants won, well, here's a news flash, they lost.  They lost big time.
They sucked rotten eggs out there on the football field.  And you, Dave
Malucci will finally pay for all the humiliation you put me through when
you won all those other bets."

"That's a load of fucking bullshit.  I never told anyone about that stuff
that happened.  Not once.  Never pretended to either.  Just got you to do
crap.  And the Giants did NOT suck rotten eggs."

"I never said anything in there about sex, Dave.  Never.  Your problem is
that...that you...you..." John bit off his remark, not wanting to argue
with Dave.

"Not straight up you didn't.  But you said enough.  And you said it over
and over and over.  They'll figure it out.  They will.  And you started
talking about that stuff in the garage too.  People coulda heard."

"Dave, it's after midnight.  We were the only people in the garage.  And so
what if they heard?  Are you that ashamed of being with me?"  John pulled
to a stop at a red light and he looked over at Dave.  "I wish I could have
told everyone in there that we were a couple, that we were together, but I
know you're not ready for that.  And I didn't say anything that hasn't been
said by any of us in the ER before.  We joke like that all the time.  Don't
you think it would be *more* noticeable if I started to treat you
differently?"

"You said it over and over and over."  Dave stuck with what he knew. "And
over."

John threw his hands up in the air.  "Fine.  Have it your way.  It's just
like you say, Dave. I'm a horrible person.  I don't know why you even want
to spend any time with me.  But get this straight right now, I *am*
claiming my twenty-four hours, and you *will* deliver, as promised.  Or
doesn't your word mean anything to you?"

Dave turned away and looked out the window.  "There's a money machine
there."

"Yep," John said.  The light turned green and he accelerated.   "That's
exactly what it is."

"Stop.  Could get that cash."

"Nope."

"What?"

"I'm not stopping, Dave.  I said I'd drive you home and that's what I'm
doing.  If you want to go back to a money machine once there, then you can
get on your bike and pedal to it.  But I'm not stopping.  I'm some kind of
horrible person who treats you badly, making you look bad in front of your
co-workers.  Why would I be nice enough to stop so you can withdraw the
money that you should have already had?"

"What?  You're a bastard.  Thought you wanted me to pay up?"

"I do. But, as you pointed out, I like to torment you.  So just consider
this more torment.  After this is over you won't have to worry about any
more torment from me."

"Oh, go to Hell."  Dave slumped back against the seat.  He could have tried
jumping out -- but it wasn't worth breaking his leg to pay back a stupid
bet.

"You really *are* a sore loser, you know that?" John said.  They were
nearing Dave's building and John started to look for a place to park.

"There was *nothing* in that bet about telling everyone at work.  Nothing."

"I guess I missed the part where I stood in front of everyone and told them
that part of our bet involved the winner being able to fuck out the brains
of the loser.  Of course, I'd probably get in trouble for that, but only
because everyone knows you only have a few brains to begin with, and Weaver
wouldn't want me to make you lose them."  John finally found a spot about
halfway down the block and he stopped and parked the Jeep.

"Go to Hell."  Dave scrambled out of the Jepp, and headed round to the back
to get his bike out.  He half expected Carter to accelerate away as he was
fiddling with the handle.  He didn't get why he was being such a bastard.
Besides, the Chief had given him a *good* evaluation.  She had.

John walked around to the back of the Jeep and opened it up, then lifted
the bike out, setting it on the slick pavement.  He turned to close up the
back, busy thinking about what he was going to do with the hundred
dollars.  The massage oil had only been half a joke -- it was a good idea.
Maybe a book for Dave, one that John had found helpful  -- "The New Joy of
Gay Sex".  And perhaps a few toys?  He had also only been half-joking about
wanting a butt plug -- the idea of something like that to hold in Dave's
seed held a definite appeal for him.  And there were other things he could
buy for their pleasure.  Dave had to let him use them and John wasn't
thinking of getting anything *too* kinky.  And some of the stuff John knew
he wanted to make Dave use on *him*, so Dave certainly couldn't object to
that.

Dave took the bike and wheeled it into the building.  He wasn't going to
look to see if Carter followed.  He wasn't.  He didn't care.  Didn't care
at all.

When John turned back around, Dave was already through the front door and
he had to hurry to catch up to him at the elevator.  "So, what's it going
to take for me to get you out of this bad mood that you're in, Wombat?"

Dave stabbed at the button calling the elevator.  Carter had come.  He
didn't know if that was bad or good, but he was shaking a little.  "You
can't say stuff like that at work."

"Whatever," John muttered, looking away.  Then he looked around the lobby,
saw they were alone and grinned as he looked back at Dave.  "We're alone in
here."

Dave saw the grin on Carter's face and looked around.  It was a public
place they were in, and he looked....  Just then the elevator binged its
arrival, and Dave hurried inside it.