:s
Disclaimer: I don't own Trauma Team
"Ah! Gabe! " Chief yelled loudly.
"What is it, Esha?" Gabe said, turning around.
"Can you check up on this patient?"
"I'm on my lunch bre-"
"Great! Thanks Gabe!" Chief said, shoving the chart into the doctor's hand.
"What? Esha!"
"He might seem a little grumpy, but that's okay! Ta ta!" Chief told him, darting down the hallway.
Gabe sighed loudly, making his way to the patient's room. He looked at the patient's chart.
"Hm. Forty-five year old male named Daniel Miller."
The doctor simply cleared his throat and entered the room.
"Yo. How are you feeling?"
The patient glared at him.
"Okay... You've had surgery recently, right?"
"I thought surgeons were suppose to know who they operated on." Daniel replied, annoyed.
"I wasn't the one who operated on you, old man." the diagnostician said, rolling his eyes.
"So why isn't the surgeon checking on me?" he asked, his voice gruff.
"He could, unless you want an awkward conversation." Gabe pointed out.
The patient stared at the doctor, not saying a word.
"How are you doing? You're not sore anywhere, are you?"
"Why should I tell you?"
"We don't want you getting worse, do we? ...And it's my job."
The patient glared at the doctor, crossing his arms.
"You doctors don't care."
"Well, some of us do."
"You expect me to buy that?"
"Actually, no. I know someone who can sell it to you, though." Gabe said, grinning.
"And who would that be?"
"A good friend of mine. She's known for her way of treating patients."
"Fine. Bring her in. "
"All right. Emma, can you get our friend in here? Tell her there's a patient waiting for her."
"Right away, Doctor Cunningham!"
"What do you want, Gabe?" Maria asked.
"Well, I've gotta grumpy, old patient in there. Think you can deal with him?"
The paramedic grinned. "Hell yeah!" she answered, running into the room.
"That ought to teach him." Gabe said, seeing Maria beat up the old man.
I wrote this around 2 A.M xD