Mac was too quiet. Guy didn't like it when Mac was too quiet... It meant the little ginger freak was up to something.

He was in the staff room, with his feet propped up on the coffee-table - casually disregarding Martin's poor excuse for homework underneath his real Italian leather. And he was facing the wrong way, because all he could see was Mac pratting about like a tart in the kitchen. It was enough to put him off his lunch. His lunch - swiss cheese in a roll, made for him by one of the nurses he'd fucked into next Wednesday last Wednesday - was actually lying, forgotten and squidged in between the chair arm and his leg. He blamed Mac.

There was another crash as Mac lifted up a plate on the shelf to get to the one underneath. Guy snorted: for someone supposedly so go with his hands, Mac was just rubbish and clumsy. Perhaps he wasn't even a surgeon, probably just an imposter - Guy had seen how well Mac had gotten on with that working class chap downstairs. He was probably one of them. Git.

He sighed, and Mac spared him a glance before turning back to spreading his orange marmalade on his orange toast. Probably to make him feel better about being a rotten carrot-top. That was all Guy got now, just one look. Mac hadn't looked at him properly since the fight... Stupid Martin. What was the problem, even, anyway? Everyone knew the stupid little runt was never going to pass the exam, so why did Mac get so fucking superior and righteous about it? He'd been really cross, actually: he'd kneed Guy in the bollocks like a proper girl. Guy's stomach jumped suddenly, but that was because he hadn't eaten his swiss cheese roll. He didn't fancy it. That was Mac's fault, too, so he glared at him, wondering if he could make that plate in Mac's slow hands smash across his pointy face.

But fucking Mac had to look up, didn't he. Had to look up and flick his silly woman hair out of his eyes. Guy had to say something: they'd not had an argument since The Cornflake Affair because Mac had gone in a sulk like a tramp with that monthly thing. That's why Guy was feeling so restless; no one else was as good to wind up as Mac, because Mac was the most ridiculous person ever and needed making fun off. He had to say something.

"You have silly woman hair."

Mac didn't say anything, but kept watching Guy, gaze cool as if bored. Guy felt his temper flare, and he stood up. "I said, you have silly woman hair."

Mac cleared his throat, and looked away, but that wasn't right. Guy wanted more than that, even if it was another kneeing in the balls from a puny opponent. Using the coffee-table as a springboard, he jumped over it and rounded the corner of the kitchenette. Mac didn't look at him again, just took a bite of his ginger-covered toast and shuffled his clown feet. Guy reached out and grabbed a curl of hair, relishing the way Mac almost growled and pulled away with a wince. But he didn't tell Guy to piss off.

Frustrated by the lack of response, Guy grabbed hold of Mac's chin and made him look up, refusing to let go even as Mac struggled to step back and way from him.

"Oi, ginger. This is silly woman hair!"

The words came out louder than he wanted them to, but no one in the staff room spared them a glance. They didn't think it was anything out of the ordinary, they did this all the time. But they didn't realise that half of it was being a stupid poof and not working the way it should.

Guy mercilessly squeezed Mac's bony chin - he was a hard man like in the films where the hero makes the naff villain listen to him one final time before he kills him with a big gun. Mac's dull, murky coloured eyes - impossible to say what colour they are because Mac's an awkward thing and can't do anything right or properly - eventually latch onto his and Guy carries on glaring at him, feeling the anger in his chest simmering under his finely-pressed shirt.

But Mac was looking at him for the first time since the argument that morning and Guy suddenly couldn't think of anything to say - not having lunch sometimes did that to his brain, because he needed food to keep it working at such a high level. So he just repeated himself, because the words had been good in the first place and Mac needed to hear them and answer him.

"You have... silly woman hair."

Mac pulled away from him, Guy losing his grip of the slippery chin - entirely without stubble because Mac was a woman without a penis. Mac took a step back and Guy wanted to punch him, but he couldn't because his chest suddenly ached a bit: perhaps he was having a heart attack? He didn't want fucking Mac operating on his heart if he was: he'd ask for someone else. Should he ask now?

But then, something happened and he stopped having heart attack. Mac picked up his toast and bit into it again, before pointing it at Guy in accusation.

"Is silly woman hair different from mentally-average woman hair?"

It was a rubbish reply, and normally Guy would have been above such childish repartee - really, he'd have better conversations with a monkey... No, with Martin, than with the obnoxious surgeon - but it was his lunch break and he was bored with his free time. And Mac was crawling back to him after the argument and it was all okay again. So he answered back and won.

"I don't know, why don't you ask your mum?"