Two Punks In Love

Tadpoles

Trace

Leed leans against the wall and says with complete chill, "Trace, you are fucking up so bad right now. Matt at least made it til his twins were born before Marianne kicked him out the first time. Not to mention, you are in danger of getting arrested."

I look over at the security guards. Fuck. I hate it when Leed is right.

I release the doctor, who is too shocked to do much besides gape. Leed straightens his white coat for him and pats him gently.

"Sorry." Leed holds out a quelling hand to the security guards. "Let's take a beat. See if we can talk this out, alright? Dr. Davis, I know Trace is actin' like an asshole, but he responds with aggression when he's most afraid. And you just acted like it's no big deal that the love of his life might be having a miscarriage or be sick or even dying. It kind of pissed me off too, man. You do realize how bad your own people skills are, right?"

The doctor stares at Leed. "You are a very strange person."

Leed smiles like it's a compliment. "Yeah I know. I'm extra. But you're kind of the opposite."

Unbelievably, the doctor seems to accept Leed's assessment. He shrugs. "Surgical training doesn't really emphasize bedside manner, you know."

I snort. That's really no excuse. Kade is surgeon, and he's a decent human being.

Am I? This is the doctor trying to give Ellen a future, and I just jacked him up against the wall. Meanwhile Kat is probably wondering around wild with fear and anger.

I take a big step back and put my hands up in surrender. But the security guards remain tense, hands on tasers.

"The police are in route, Dr. Davis," one of them says.

Fuck. Where is Riley when I need damage control? In marriage counseling in Australia, of course.

Okay, time to man up.

"Look. I'm sorry. I apologize."

Leed grips my shoulder and smiles at me. "Yeah, yeah, you're always sorry." To Dr. Davis, he confides. "He has some childhood baggage that he's always battling, but he's really a great fucking guy," Leed crosses his arms and gives the doc an assessing gaze. "Let's get back to you, Dr. Davis. What fucked up your personality anyway?"

Dr. Davis blinks at Leed. Then he gives a short, barky laugh of disbelief. He shakes his head and holds out his right hand. "Well since you ask, this happened. Car accident." He's missing his pinkie finger and top of his ring finger. "I used to be a transplant surgeon giving people new hearts, now I'm a transplant physician managing their before and aftercare from behind a desk. It's critical work, but some days? It just... blows."

I look down at the hand. "Damn. My sister had a hand injury that cost her her musical career. I know how hard that is. I'm sorry about that."

"Well, I tell myself, I still save lives," he smiles grimly.

"Okay, yeah. Look, I'm sorry for...uhmmm..." I should not say the word assault right now... "I really am sorry for overreacting. There's no excuse for violence, I just lost it for a minute. Please don't let this effect your doctor-patient relationship with Ellen. They say you're the best at what you do."

"I am," he says evenly. "I'm damn good at keeping my patients alive and ruthless at advocating to find them life-saving organs. And to be frank, I don't suppose it's her fault that her daughters took up with...you two."

"That's true," I agree. "We are definitely not her first choices for her daughters."

"Yeah, she had a doctor picked out for my wife," Leed agrees.