Spoilers: Not at the moment. Possibly a slight one later on for that episode where Mr. Cross is framed for a senator's murder. Nothing major anyway.
Summary: Cassie, Shane, and DD take care of Mr. Cross after a mission gone wrong.
Disclaimer: I don't own She Spies. Hmph!
Hello again! Here is another She Spies story. Hope you enjoy it!
The wide doors of the emergency room swung open as the three high-heeled spies rushed in.
"I can't believe this is happening," DD wrung her hands in front of her. "Why wouldn't they tell us anything? It must be bad."
Cassie put an arm around her friend's shoulder.
"Don't worry, DD. I'm sure it's nothing. Not sharing information over the phone is just their policy."
"Yeah, well I for one think it's a stupid policy," Shane exclaimed. "It's a miracle we got here in one piece with the two of you screaming at me to go faster."
"Oh, don't worry, Shane. I checked in the mirror. That little old lady made it across the street just fine. Not so sure about the kid on the bike..."
"Yeah well, no thanks to the two of you."
"Hey, here's the front desk," DD broke in. "Hello, we were called in for Quentin Cross. He was brought in a couple hours ago. They wouldn't tell us why."
The nurse behind the desk flipped through the files in front of her until she found the appropriate name.
"Ah, yes. If you would please take a seat right over there, I'll have the doctor speak with you in just a moment," she said while pointing to a seating area in the corner.
Grudgingly, they took their seats and waited, watching as patients and hospital staff walked to and fro.
"Sure is busy in here tonight."
"Yeah, you'd think people would have better things to do on a Saturday night."
"Like going to a baseball game."
"Or having a family night at home."
"Or watching a documentary."
Shane and Cassie leaned over to look at DD.
"What? The endangered species of the Galapagos Island is something we should all care about."
"Miss McBain, Miss Phillips, Miss Cummings?"
They looked up to see a grey-haired, tired looking doctor in front of them. Hurriedly, they rose to their feet.
"Yes, we were called in for Mr. Cross."
"How is he?"
"My name is Dr. Reynolds. I'm afraid Mr. Cross was admitted with a gunshot wound to his right shoulder."
"Oh my word," DD reached a hand to her mouth.
"Please don't be alarmed. The bullet exited clean through his back. There was minimal damage. Painful, yes, but he should be better in no time. You can see him now if you'd like. A Mr. Barret is with him. He wanted to stay with Mr. Cross until you got here."
They nodded and followed as the doctor led them to a hallway on the other side of the room.
Mr. Cross had been on a routine surveillance mission with Agent Barret and his men. It was supposed to be a simple, cut and dry mission. Something obviously went wrong.
"I do caution you, we've given him plenty of pain medication. He should be pretty out of it."
Dr. Reynolds opened the first door on their left and entered the room.
"Here we are."
The girls quickly made their way to the head of his bed and stared down at his sleeping form.
"Oh, he looks so sweet when he's sleeping. Just like a little boy," DD said, taking hold of his hand.
Mr. Cross's eyes cracked open, gazing unfocused at the faces above him.
"Ladies?" his voice cracked out groggily.
"Hey, Mr. Cross, we're all here," Cassie, the closest to his head, informed him while brushing her fingers lightly through his hair.
"That's nice," he smiled blearily up at her.
"Hey, guys," Agent Barret got up from his seat in the corner. "Sorry you had to come down here. I would stay longer, but my wife was expecting me home hours ago."
"That's okay. We understand," DD sympathized. "Can you tell us what happened?"
"We were just supposed to be watching..." he glanced over at the doctor. "... someone's house. We needed video footage of an actual transaction occurring before we could get an arrest warrant. We shouldn't have even needed to leave the van, but we were discovered. Some of his men started taking shots at us. They hit the tires before we could more, so we had to leave the van and make a run for it. Quentin was shot while covering us."
"Yeah. And it's all my fault too. He wasn't even supposed to be there. We were heading out, and I thought he looked a little bored, so I asked him if he'd like to join us, get away from the office for a while."
"Hey, don't blame yourself. You couldn't have know what was going to happen," Cassie assured him.
"Yeah," Shane added. "In a way, it's probably a good thing he was there. More people could have gotten hurt if he wasn't there to provide back up."
"Well, I definitely owe him one." Barret glanced at his watch. "Look, I've got to go. Let me know how he's doing?"
He walked over to the bed.
"All right, buddy. I'm going home now. The girls are here now. They'll take good care of you." He turned to the girls while pulling on his jacket. "I'll see you guys around. If you need anything..."
"Don't worry. We'll be fine."
"Ladies, I'm afraid I have more to tell you," Dr. Reynolds spoke up after Agent Barret left. "As you may have noticed, we are very swamped for space tonight. Since Mr. Cross's injuries are not life threatening, we'll need to discharge him."
"What?" Shane couldn't believe her ears.
"Are you kidding?"
"I'm afraid not. But I assure you, Mr. Cross will be perfectly fine. As long as someone stays with him for the next forty-eight hours and changes his bandages every six hours, there should be no problem."
"But – "
"Please, ladies, I really need to get back to work. I'll send a nurse in with a wheelchair."
They watched helplessly as the doctor left the room.
"I don't believe this. How can they send someone home with a gunshot wound?"
"Someone's been shot?" Mr. Cross mumbled from his bed.
"Where do you think we should take him, his apartment or our place?"
"He'd probably be more comfortable in his own bed."
"Yeah, and he has a couple couches two of us can sleep on while one of us keeps an eye on him."
"Sounds good to me."
The door opened, and they turned to see a nurse guiding a wheelchair into the room, a bag of bandages on the seat.
"Nurse, we've got a man bleeding out here!" a shout came from outside the room. She glanced uncertainly over her shoulder.
"Don't worry," Cassie quickly assured her. "We've got everything under control."
The nurse nodded her thanks and rushed out.
"We get him in this chair and get him home, I guess," Cassie decided as she made her way to the side of the bed with the wheelchair in tow, then slipped the brakes on.
"Mr. Cross, can you hear me?" she leaned in close to his face and put her hand on his cheek.
"Cassie? Is that you?"
"The one and only. We're going to take you home now, but we need to get you out of this bed first, okay?"
"We're going for a ride?"
She put her arm around his waist, careful not to bump his injured shoulder, as she guided him to the edge of the bed and into the chair. DD and Shane stood guard on either side.
"Easy does it. That's right. Now just stay with us a little bit longer so you don't fall out of that chair."
They got a list of instructions from the front desk, then made their way to the parking lot.
"I think we should put him in the back seat. That way one of us can keep him steady on the way home."
"All right. DD, you mind keeping an eye on him?"
"Okay, Mr. Cross, you're gonna have to help us get you into the car. This isn't going to be easy."
It took some doing, but eventually they had Mr. Cross and DD comfortably positioned for the ride home. Cassie and Shane climbed into the front, and they started on their way.
"Hey, have any of you ever taken care of a sick person before?" Shane questioned.
"I had a hamster once," DD said after a moment of silence.
To be continued shortly. So what did you think? I hope you liked.
Oh, and just to warn you, my medical knowledge is limited to what I've run into in my family and reruns of ER. I know nothing about gunshot wounds or proper hospital procedures. So if I'm completely wrong, we'll just use our imaginations )
Lots of love!