Author's Notes: And just when I though I was done writing DM fics. This is a response to a challenge by Annie- write a crossover including all your favorite fandoms. And here they are: Supernatural, The Sentinel, Stargate SG1, Starsky and Hutch, and Numb3rs. Beta'd by Annie. Very light slash.
"You're following me."
"You are too," Dr. Jesse Travis replied, exasperation creeping into his voice. "You haven't left my side in twenty four hours."
"And that's a bad thing?" Steve grinned, following Jesse closely as the young doctor jogged up the steps of Community General Hospital.
Jesse tried to hide his smile - and more importantly, his blush. "I didn't say it was bad," he muttered just loud enough for the detective to hear. "But in half an hour, you have to report for duty and rid the city of its evil doers. You're gonna be late."
"Can't a guy say hi to his father once in a while?"
The glass doors parted and Jesse didn't even break his stride as he moved through them and into the hospital. "You live with your father, Steve."
"Well yeah, but I spend a lot of time at your place too."
"I'm out of milk, by the way. You owe me a gallon."
Steve caught up with the shorter, quicker doctor and walked beside him through the halls. "Well, if we're keeping score, then you owe Dad three Thanksgiving turkeys, four hams, and an entire truck load of Oreos and Pop-Tarts."
Jesse glanced at Steve quickly. "You serious?"
"What do you think?"
Jesse was cursing his gullibility when Mark's frantic shout interrupted. "Jesse! We need you in the ER right now!"
Jesse swung to face the older Sloan like a faithful hound to his master's whistle. "What happened?"
"Major car accident on the freeway. All our rooms are filled, and some of the victims were sent south. We have every available staff here as it is. Can you cover triage?"
"Yeah," Jesse answered automatically, feeling a rush of adrenaline as he slung the stethoscope around his neck. "What a way to start the day, huh?"
Mark was already heading back down the hall as Steve said, "Looks like my shift just started as well. I'll see if I can talk to these people as you treat them - try to get an idea of what happened."
Jesse nodded, already following Mark's trail. The banter between them was lost as each man slipped into work mode. Steve's walk became stiffer, Jesse's more hurried. The sounds of distress grew louder as they neared the emergency wing. The halls became more populated. A general sense of chaos hung in the air like a plague, and it spurred Jesse on.
They reached the lobby and skidded to a halt, shocked. People were everywhere- in every chair, leaning against every wall, pacing over every inch of floor and the noise… Children were crying, babies screaming, husbands and wives yelling and arguing over the medical truths that they couldn't bear to hear.
Jesse took a deep breath, rolled up his proverbial sleeves, and dove in.
As he picked his way across the lobby, Jesse snagged a nurse and ducked into the first curtained room, Steve following close behind.
"Good morning, I'm Doctor Travis," Jesse said, the words sounding like a worn-out catch phrase in his mind as he studied the two men before him.
The one on the gurney, presumably the injured of the two, sat tall and lanky in loose jeans and layered shirts, his arms wrapped around himself. His dark hair had some length to it, hanging over his forehead and into his green eyes. He was young- probably only twenty-something, though his eyes looked haunted, like he had seen a lot in his lifetime.
The other, so similar in appearance that Jesse pegged them as brothers, stopped his pacing to pin Jesse with an eager look. His hair was shorter and his eyes more hardened, more difficult to read. Though not much older, this guy was a little shorter and stockier than his companion.
"It's about time," the older guy said, approaching Jesse.
"Sorry about the wait," Jesse replied, noticing as the nurse readied her pen and folder. "We're a little short-handed. Can I get your name?" he asked the guy on the gurney.
"Sam Winchester," he replied, then quickly looked to the other with a hint of uncertainty in his eyes.
After a heartbeat, the older guy nodded once. "I'm Dean, his brother. Look, we already filled out the paperwork-"
Jesse pulled out his penlight and approached Sam. "Can you tell me what happened?"
The muscles in Sam's neck tensed as he stilled and allowed Jesse to shine the light in his eyes. "We were in the wreck. I broke my arm when I tried to catch myself."
"Did you see what caused the wreck?" Steve asked, writing at the same speed as the nurse standing beside him.
"No," they replied together, and the quick denial sounded odd even to Jesse.
Dean grinned somewhat embarrassingly, then said, "It looked like a freak bolt of lightening, or something."
"Lightening?" Steve questioned.
Jesse returned the pen light to his pocket, pulled on the latex gloves the nurse had handed him, and reached for Sam's hand. "Let me see what's going on here," he said, gently prying the bloodied arm away from the young man's body.
"Yeah, lightening," Dean replied in a tone that signaled he would not elaborate.
Jesse's gaze immediately fell to the open wound where the ulna was protruding through the skin. He took a breath, knowing the pain had to be miserable for the young man. The nurse stepped closer, and Jesse rattled off dosages for pain control.
Sam tensed and looked away but did not cry out, save for a small whimper as Jesse pinpointed the location of the break. As Jesse relayed further instructions to the nurse, Steve - pointedly not looking at the younger brother, or more specifically, his arm - asked, "Look, can either of you tell me exactly what happened? After the 'lightening', I mean."
Dean stepped forward, tearing his concerned gaze from Sam. "Yeah, we were just heading south on 5... Then all of a sudden, there was the lightening and this idiot in a Suburban cut over into the oncoming lane. I laid on the brakes. We were rear-ended by this big Explorer and now my baby is a wreck! It was a classic, man!"
Jesse raised an eyebrow at Dean's enthusiasm as he let go of Sam's arm, and Sam immediately held it against himself once more.
Behind him, Steve must have worn a curious expression as well, because Dean stated, "Black 1967 Impala. Mint. She purred like a kitten." He turned towards Jesse and Sam. "Is he gonna be okay?"
Jesse nodded. "We'll send him upstairs to get his arm taken care of. It looks nasty, but he'll be fine." He finished with a smile to Sam.
"Good," Dean replied, sounding relieved and tense all together, and another unreadable look passed between the brothers.
"You in a hurry to leave?" Steve asked, then looked over the nurse's shoulder to copy down the boy's address and phone numbers from her chart.
"Just road trippin'," Dean replied nonchalantly, shoving his hands in the pockets of his worn leather jacket. "Seein' the sights of California."
Steve stopped writing. "You're not from around here?"
Dean shook his head, causing the gold pendant around his neck to roll across his chest. "Kansas."
"Your paperwork says San Jose."
It was Sam who spoke up. "We're staying with relatives right now."
Steve didn't look satisfied, but he nodded and continued taking down information.
Jesse double-checked the nurse's notes then moved to the curtain. "Nurse Davis will take you upstairs to radiology now. You two take it easy for a while. You're lucky there's only one broken arm between you."
Steve had his game face on. "And stay in town for a few days."
Surprisingly, Dean returned the cold look. "Of course."
Jesse left the brothers, feeling slightly uneasy as he peeled off the gloves. There was something more going on here than they were willing to let on. But what? They were only in their twenties and they didn't seem old enough or cold-hearted enough to be serial killers or baby-stealers or anything like that. Still something told Jesse that those boys had no problems handling themselves.
Steve was on his heels once again. "I hope your next patients are more forthcoming, and not as crazy," he murmured near Jesse's ear. "Otherwise I'm gonna be here all day sorting this mess out."
Jesse snorted and waved over another nurse. "You mean there's somewhere else you'd rather be?"
The nurse joined them as Jesse gripped the curtain of the next room. Steve gave him a lopsided grin. "It's not that I don't love you, or dad, but I'd rather take my chances capturing the scum out on the streets. Did you see that kid's arm?" Steve grimaced. "Bones are supposed to be underneath your skin."
Jesse smiled and shook his head, pulling open the curtain. "Good morning, I'm Dr. Travis-"
"It's about time! We've been sitting here for nearly 45 minutes!"
"What kind of a hospital is this anyway? These kids," he said, jabbing an index finger to the right, "are talking about ghosts and demons, while those guys," his large hand swept to the left, "are arguing over gates and snakes-"
Jesse agilely stepped around the tall, muscular man and went towards the shorter one on the gurney. This one was pale and in obvious pain, and his long dark curly hair bleached his features exaggeratedly. Bold blue eyes studied Jesse as he reached towards the torn and bloody denim covering the stranger's right leg. "What's your name?" Jesse asked, the stethoscope around his neck dangling as he bent forward.
"His name is Blair Sandburg," the taller man replied, pressing into Jesse's personal space in an attempt to monitor Jesse's ministrations. "I'm Detective Jim Ellison, Cascade PD."
Steve jumped on the opening. "You're a bit out of your jurisdiction, aren't you? What brings you all the way down here?"
Jim backed away from Jesse and Blair. "And who are you?"
"Detective Steve Sloan, LAPD."
Jim's demeanor changed as Jesse continued to assess Blair's condition. As the detectives talked behind him, Jesse accepted the gloves and scissors from the nurse. He looked up at Blair. "I'm going to have to cut the material away to have a better look," he said softly, knowing the action would probably cause further pain.
Blair swallowed and nodded, turning his crystalline gaze to the opposite corner of the room.
The two deep voices behind him continued to rumble as Jesse pulled on the gloves and slid the cold metal blade between denim and flesh. "What happened?" he asked as he started to cut.
"I don't know," Blair said, his eyes large. "There was this bright light, then the next thing we knew, this old black car was stopped in front of us." He used his hands to show Jesse the positions of the cars. "Jim tried to avoid it, but we were sandwiched and broad-sided by this bright red car." He swallowed again. "My side."
Jesse made a sound of sympathy. "Nice," he said, cutting down the length of Blair's thigh. "Anything else hurt?"
"My shoulder, a little," Blair said quietly. "I think it's just bruised."
"You let the doctor be the judge of that," Jim interrupted, and Jesse actually jumped slightly in surprise. He hadn't been aware that the detective was listening.
Jesse handed the blood-smeared scissors back to the nurse in an effort to cover his reaction. "Thanks," he murmured to her, then turned back to Blair's leg and peeled back the bloody denim. Blair tensed, and behind him, Jim did too.
The blood appeared to be coming from a mass of superficial cuts on Blair's thigh. More troubling, though, was the swelling and bruising that worried Jesse enough to order x-rays. It was very likely that the femur was broken, but the level of severity would have to be determined upstairs.
"First we need to make sure these cuts are clean," he said, straightening. "Nurse Brown will remove any glass or other debris, then we'll get you up to radiology to take a look at what's going on inside."
"It's broken, I can tell you that," Jim said, pinning Jesse with a belittling glare.
Steve took one step forward.
"We need to see just how bad the break is," Jesse replied, lifting his chin. He was short - he'd had years of being talked down to and wouldn't be cowed that easily.
Jim suddenly looked at Blair and the tension visibly drained from his face "Okay," he conceded. "Thank you, doctor."
Jesse didn't quite understand the cause for the larger man's mood swing, but he returned the smile anyway. "You're welcome."
The nurse stepped forward and Jesse headed for the curtain. "I'll check up on you later, Blair," he said, waving.
Blair gave a nervous smile and nodded in agreement, and Jesse left the nurse to her duties, removing his gloves as he went.
"Finally, I get a straight story," Steve murmured as he followed Jesse.
"Takes one to know one?" Jesse quipped, flagging down a young, blonde nurse as she entered the lobby.
"Funny boy," Steve replied. "Ellison had some great information. He must have been in the center of it all - I got three plate numbers. Looks like I got some work for the folks down in vehicle registration."
"He know anything about the 'bright light'?"
"Just that it definitely wasn't lightening."
Jesse shook his head as the nurse finally caught up with them. "Well something sure happened out there. Everyone seems a little paranoid to me," Jesse replied, then pulled open the curtain to the next room. "Good morning," he started, feeling like a broken record, "My name is Dr. Travis."
Two well-muscled, no-nonsense men stared back at him as if they had been interrupted from a very serious meeting. The man on the gurney wore glasses and appeared to be in his thirties, while his companion was showing his age with graying hair and a stern look. They each wore military issue battle dress uniforms, complete with handguns strapped to their right thighs. The older man squared his shoulders upon Jesse's entrance, and while the man on the gurney mimicked the action, it seemed much less threatening.
Jesse wondered if this collection of ER patients could get any stranger.
The older man opened his mouth and Jesse held up a hand. "I know, 'it's about time'. Can I get your names?" he asked, moving towards the man on the bed.
"Yes, I'm Daniel Jackson and this is Colonel Jack O'Neill. We are p-"
"Hey, Daniel," Jack cut in, raising his eyebrows as he made a show of looking around the room.
Jesse tore his gaze away from the wad of bloody gauze Daniel was pressing to his head in order to send Steve a questioning look. Steve, however, was still caught up on other things.
"Colonel?" he asked, readying his pen and paper.
Jesse heard the smile in Steve's voice. "Flyboy."
Jesse rolled his eyes. Turning his attention back to the matter at hand, he approached Daniel while accepting a new pair of latex gloves from the nurse. He pulled them on and reached towards the blood, noticing Daniel's clear and watchful gaze, and said, "I'm just going to look. Can you tell me how this happened?"
Daniel licked his lips quickly, flinching as the gauze was peeled away from the deep, bloody gash on his forehead. Jesse couldn't hide his own wince as the wound began trickling. "This is definitely going to need stitches." He pulled out his pen light. "Follow the light with my eyes. Are you dizzy at all? Nauseous?"
Daniel's blue eyes followed the light steadily. "I was a little dizzy, but not anymore."
"Can you tell me what happened?"
"Uh, yeah, we were heading south on 5, when out of nowhere, this - uh - bright light hit the ground right in front of us."
Jesse took note of Daniel's trouble recounting the accident and murmured to the nurse that extra scans would be warranted.
"Jack swerved to the right and we had a head-on collision with another SUV."
"Can you tell me what day it is?" Jesse asked, clicking off the light and putting it in the pocket of his lab coat.
Jesse noticed how Daniel kept glancing to the colonel, as if the older man would come to his rescue. "I'm gonna have the nurse take you up for some scans, to be sure there's no swelling inside your skull. Then we'll get you stitched up and back in the sky."
"Sky?" Daniel questioned, furrowing his brows behind the rims of his glasses. His gaze flickered to Jack and back. "Oh, I'm just a civilian. Doctor, actually, of archeology."
The nurse held out some new gauze and Jesse pressed it to Daniel's wound. "I wasn't aware that the Air Force dealt with archeology."
Daniel's hand came up to hold the gauze in place. Jack was still talking to the detective, unaware of Daniel's predicament. "Yeah, um," he started, licking his lips in what Jesse presumed was a nervous gesture. "I'm also a linguist, so I uh, help with the overseas stuff."
"23 different languages."
Jesse was impressed, but still a little confused. He opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Colonel O'Neill. "So, Doc, is he gonna make it or what?"
Jesse couldn't help but notice how Daniel seemed relieved when Jack rejoined them. What was it with all his patients keeping secrets? "Yeah, he'll be fine," Jesse replied. "I want to check out that head wound- it's a pretty deep gash- then we'll put in some stitches and get you some prescriptions for the pain."
"Aw, Danny's used to a little headache now and then, aren't ya?" Jack smiled, but the friendly barb fell flat. "Tough crowd."
Jesse pulled off his gloves. "Our nurses will take excellent care of you, Dr. Jackson. You'll be good as new in no time."
"Thank you," Daniel replied, and Jesse was once again caught up in those expressive blue eyes. He smiled a goodbye and turned, nearly colliding with Steve as the two left the cubicle.
"I'm glad you're getting some normal patients now," Steve observed as he followed Jesse. "This certainly makes my job a lot easier."
"Well, compared to the first kid, these past two are wellsprings of information."
"Yeah," Jesse said distractedly, trying not to think about how much sense his previous conversation didn't make. A red-haired nurse had just stepped away from the front desk and he snatched her before another approaching doctor could. He had to stay focused on the task at hand - seeing to all of these people as quickly and efficiently as possible.
He'd worry about the incongruously unbelievable alibis later.
Jesse paused outside the next curtain, taking a deep, steeling breath for whatever might be on the other side.
"You okay?" Steve asked. "You look a little frazzled."
"I'm fine. You're getting all the info you need, right?"
Jesse put on a smile and before Steve could vocalize his concern further, he pushed into the next room. "Good morning, I'm Dr. Travis."
Two lean, casually dressed men stared back at him. One was blond and blue-eyed and holding his arm very close to his ribs as he stood face to face with his curly-haired, brunet counterpart. Tight, flared jeans and form-fitting turtlenecks screamed of the 1970s. Jesse fought the urge to laugh hysterically.
Apparently, behind curtain number 4 was a time warp.
This just got better and better.
A gentle nudge from behind told him that he was making a scene. Jesse stepped forward, shaking off his insanity. "And what's your name?"
The brunet spoke first. He was shorter than the blond, but his animation made up for what he lacked in stature. "I'm Detective Starsky, and this is my partner, Hutch."
This was too much. Jesse couldn't stop the smile that curved the left side of his mouth. He turned to Steve. "Maybe it's some kind of mass hysteria."
Steve snickered and Starsky took offence. "What? Hysteria? We're not crazy! My partner is hurt - are you really a doctor?"
Steve stepped forward. "I'll vouch for him. He is really a doctor. Are you really a detective?"
Anger flashed through Starsky's steel blue eyes. "Of course I am," he said, whipping out a badge before Steve could even flinch. "Bay City PD, see?"
Steve held up his hands. "I think they're serious, Jess."
"Of course we're serious!"
Sighing inwardly, Jesse stepped around the annoyed brunet and approached his quieter companion. "What happened?" he asked as Hutch straightened.
"We were just driving, then all of a sudden everyone in front of us stopped," Hutch replied. "There was nowhere to go and we plowed into a big SUV. Do you know if there were any casualties?"
"I'm still trying to gather all the facts," Steve spoke up, his tablet once again in hand.
Jesse motioned towards Hutch's arm, clarifying himself. "What happened to your arm?"
"It's just a sprain, I think. Tried to catch myself on the dashboard." Hutch obediently held out his arm as Jesse reached for it.
"You'd think after all these years of car chases, you woulda learned your lesson," Starsky scolded from the corner with his arms crossed.
"Yeah, especially considering who I have for a driver and what his method of transportation looks like."
"Ouch, Blintz, that really hurt."
Hutch merely sneered as Jesse turned the wrist gently, feeling for the damage. When he felt the scaphoid and lunate bones grinding together in an unnatural way, he looked up into the detective's now-pained face. "Well, it's not a sprain," Jesse announced. "It's broken."
"I told you!" Starsky exclaimed, pointing at Hutch. "What did I say? Aren't you glad I dragged you here now?"
Hutch rolled his eyes and Jesse got the feeling that he had to deal with Starsky's enthusiasm quite frequently. His blue eyes settled on Jesse and he jabbed a thumb in Starsky's direction, muttering, "He thinks he's a doctor."
Jesse smiled and jerked a thumb in Steve's direction. "So does he."
When Jesse glanced at his lover, he was met with two sets of scowls. Starsky's, of course, was directed at Hutch.
"I'm going to send you up to radiology," Jesse told Hutch, turning his back to the unhappy detectives. "My lovely nurse will see you up there now, unless you have any questions."
Hutch returned his hand to his sternum. "I guess not. Just one more injury to write home about, I suppose."
"Hey Hutch, what was Dobey saying about raising our insurance deductible if we wound up in the hospital one more time?"
Hutch glared at his partner. "Hey Starsk, what was the car insurance company saying about if you wrecked that tomato of yours one more time?"
The nurse shot Jesse a long-suffering look and Jesse took his cue to leave. "And on that note, I bid you farewell."
Steve joined him quickly. They exited the curtain, leaving the poor nurse to deal with the child-like bickering. "And that," Steve said, "Is why I don't have a partner."
"Okay," Jesse sighed, ignoring Steve and stopping just outside the next curtain. "So far we've seen a couple creepy kids, three out-of-town detectives, an Air Force colonel and a doctor of archeology. Care to take a gamble as to what's behind curtain number 5?"
"Why Jesse, I think you're flustered."
"I am not flustered," Jesse retorted indignantly. "This is just one of the strangest days I've ever had. I'd sorta like it to be over."
Steve looked skeptically at the lobby bustling with people.
"Hey, I said I'd like it to be over."
"Come on Jess, the sooner you heal everyone, the sooner I can get to the bottom of all this."
Jesse looked around the room for a nurse, and after not spotting one, decided to go ahead in. It would be a nice break to get out of the ER, even if only to deliver a patient to another floor. He took a deep breath, forced a grin on his face, and entered the cubicle.
"Good morning, I'm Dr. Travis."
The man on the gurney looked up at Jesse with dark, assessing eyes set deep under an unruly mop of dark curls. Not unlike Jesse's first patient, this man had an expressive, almost haunted look about him. The man beside the gurney wore a suit- a nice one- and sported the same basic features as his companion.
'Great,' Jesse sighed, 'more brothers.'
"Can you tell me your names and what happened?"
"I'm special agent Don Eppes and this is Professor Charlie Eppes."
Jesse looked from Don to Charlie and back.
Jesse held up a hand to cover the near-hysterical grin on his face. "Of course you are."
Don looked questioningly at Steve, who - behind Jesse's back - swirled his index finger around his right temple and shrugged.
"I'm sorry, what you say your name was?" Don asked, looking back towards Jesse as the doctor approached Charlie.
"It's okay," Steve intervened. "He really does know what he's doing."
Jesse rolled his eyes and pulled on a new pair of gloves.
"Can you tell me what you saw of the accident?" Steve asked Don.
Jesse reached up towards the bleeding cut and dark purple bruise on Charlie's forehead.
"It happened really fast," Don replied, sounding more flustered than an FBI agent should be. "We were heading north when there was this bright flash of light, kinda like lightening, that came down from the sky and hit the road in the southbound lane. A few cars jumped the median and we were hit head on."
Jesse clicked on his pen light with more force than necessary and shone it in Charlie's dark brown eyes.
"A light," Steve repeated, and Jesse knew from the distraction in his voice that the detective was writing the statement down.
"Yeah," Don said forcefully. "A light. I know it sounds like something from the Twilight Zone, but we both saw a light, right, Charlie?"
"Oh, I believe you," Steve replied. "Oddly enough, you weren't the only ones to see it."
Jesse taped a wad of gauze over Charlie's wound. "What's wrong with your arm?"
"It's dislocated," Don replied, stepping back to stand beside his brother. Now Jesse understood why the agent was so upset.
He had failed to keep his little brother safe.
"We'll need to get X-rays, then barring any complications, I'll give you some sedatives and we'll pop it back in place," Jesse said, looking at both brothers as he spoke. "We'll have you good as new in no time."
"Sedatives?" Charlie questioned.
"To relax the muscles," Jesse replied. "It'll make setting that a lot less painful."
"Dad's gonna kill me," Don said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I could have gotten you killed."
"There was nothing you could do," Charlie replied. "And statistically, only .5 of all car accidents end in fatalities. Most accidents result in property damage only."
"Speaking of property damage," Don groaned, turning away partly. "The bureau is going to stop giving me vehicles. And what are the odds of hitting another black Suburban?"
"Charlie - figure of speech."
Jesse smiled at the careful banter. "Well if you two are ready now."
The Eppes brothers refocused and Jesse had Steve snatch a wheelchair from the hallway. Don helped his little brother move into it, and together, the four started for radiology.
"So let me get this straight."
Jesse leaned back in the wooden deck chair, a cold can of soda in one hand and a hot, freshly barbequed hamburger in the other. Steve was sprawled out in the chair beside him, and Mark was moving towards his own chair, food in hand.
"There really was a bright light - that wasn't lightening - that caused all those people to wreck, but nobody knows what it was?"
Steve shook his head and swallowed the food he had been chewing. "We went to the weather services, the meteorologists, the atmospheric research departments- nobody can tell us what happened, other than it was a beam of highly concentrated energy. And that still doesn't tell us much."
Jesse took a long drink and stared at the ocean.
"Sounds like something worth looking into," Mark replied.
"We tried," Steve said, exasperated. "Guess what happened then?" Without waiting, he plowed on, "NID took it over. Said it was a top level security issue. Now tell me that's not strange."
"What's the National Intelligence Department want with a pile-up on the freeway?"
Steve shrugged, his eyebrows raised.
"I think the answer was right under our noses," Jesse spoke up. His eyes were glued to the brilliant orange sun sinking into the sparkling water, and it made him more tired than he already was.
Jesse could feel Steve looking at him. "Why do you say that?"
Jesse shrugged. "The two brothers-"
"The creepy ones?"
"Yeah. There was something about them. They're connected, just as much as the air force colonel and the archeologist."
It was Mark's turn to speak up. "Sounds like you had quite the group of patients, Jesse."
The young doctor huffed quietly and smiled. He thought back to this morning's arduous events and it's hodgepodge ensemble of characters, from the hyper-alert detective from Cascade to the pair of detectives who refused to believe that the 70's were dead and buried. How despite that their vast differences, all had been brought together this morning by a random act of God.
Or whoever was running the show up there. The nurses were gossiping about aliens, after all.
"Yeah," Jesse agreed at last as the sun slipped further into the horizon. He looked meaningfully at Steve. "But I wouldn't have traded this day for anything."