Page 13 of The Doctor's No-Strings Deal

She swung the file she held with one hand and smacked him on the arm with it. “Don’t be disgusting.”

“Disgusting?” He grinned at her. “Do you always blush when things disgust you?”

She blushed even deeper at that. “This could qualify as harassment, you know.”

“Nah. I’ve only responded to your comment that I’m too childish by attempting to act more like an adult. You gave a valid criticism, so now I’m trying to address it. There’s nothing harassing about that.”

“It’s practically malicious compliance!” Now, not only were her cheeks bright red, but she was scowling, too. It was an expression she rarely wore, and Charlie rather liked it on her. That fire in her eyes peeking out from behind her glasses, her downturned lips just begging to be bitten. He wanted her to make that face every time she talked to him. She was like an angry bunny rabbit with her adorable, impotent rage.

He countered, “How can I maliciously comply when you have no authority over me?”

She stopped and whirled on him backing him into a wall. “Oh, you’d hate that, wouldn’t you? If I had any authority at all, it would really drive you crazy.”

He pushed forward but she wouldn’t let him past. “You seem to have a modicum of authority right now, Bright, and I can assure you, I do not hate it.” He smiled down at her, and her faced turned red again as she glared up at him.

Just then, Dr. Ralter passed them in the hall. “Break it up, kids,” he said. “We have a potential acute meningitis in room 202.”

Charlie looked down at Megan one last time. He wanted so badly to just grab her and kiss her hard. He wanted her to be furious with him. It took him until he was halfway to the exam room to figure out why. If she was furious with him, then she had to be thinking about him, and he wanted her to be thinking about him as often as possible. He wanted her to obsess over him, and if he had to get that through her anger, he would. It was far, far better than having her look over at him and feel nothing. He didn’t want to be just another fellow resident to her. He wanted to be someone special. And if she wasn’t going to fall in love with him, then at least, the two of them could be arch rivals. At least they would be something to each other that way.

They entered the exam room behind Dr. Ralter to find an attractive woman in her mid-twenties. Keith and Amy were already there. Dr. Ralter gave them all a rundown. “Ms. Philipps presented with a week of past illness that started out looking typical of upper respiratory viral infection. Days later, her headache became extreme. She does not usually get migraines, but this headache seems to be as bad if not worse than a typical migraine. Stabbing pain on both sides, and it does not respond to fluids or NSAIDs. Who’s my Sherlock for the day?”

“How are her vitals?” Charlie asked.

“Normal,” Dr. Ralter answered.

“Fever?” Megan asked.

Dr. Ralter shook his head. “All right, both of you are on this. You’re my Sherlock.” He pointed to Charlie and then Megan. “And you’re my Walton.”

“Watson,” Amy corrected.

“It’s Watson,” Keith agreed.

“Whatever.” Dr. Ralter’s patience was clearly faltering.

The patient groaned and held her head. They were not making things better, the room full of residents, that was for sure. Megan turned to her and asked, “What’s your pain level on a scale of one to ten — ten being the worst pain you’ve ever felt?”

The woman massaged both her temples for a moment, but then seemed to decide against it. “Seven or eight, I think,” she answered.

Megan glanced through the patient’s files. “All her labs are normal, too.” Then she turned to Charlie, of all people, and asked, “Do you think it really could be meningitis?”

Charlie had to hand it to her. “It could be. I think we should do a lumbar puncture. What do you think?”

“I think you might be right,” Megan said, and the others in the room nodded in agreement.

Ms. Philipps squirmed on the exam table, still holding a hand to her head. “Is meningitis bad?”

“It’s not great,” Charlie said.

“It’s going to be okay,” Megan reassured the woman. “We’ve got a great team and the most advanced equipment money can buy.”

And Charlie kicked himself a little for not thinking of reassuring the patient himself. Their attending was watching carefully, and he had just failed yet another bedside-manner test. He decided to ask one more question, just in case. “So you’ve been sick for a week, and you say the headache started a few days after that?”

The woman nodded.

“Do you… happen to drink caffeine every day?”

Again, she nodded. “Two or three times a day, usually, for work.”

---