| There are
dates and then there are dates! |
By:
M. J. Cogburn and C. E. Krawiec
|
The
rest of the afternoon was uneventful, but for Quinton Sylvane, that was
fine enough for him. By the time that his shift was over when Tony Shelby
showed back up to relieve him for the night, he nodded to Tony then slowly
made his way toward the bank of elevators. He
met up with Stuart again at the elevators and couldn't help but stifle a
yawn as he stepped on. Unlike
this afternoon when the pair had met up, Quinton turned to Stuart when he
asked, "So, are you doing anything tonight or not?" Quinton
remembered the question that the man had asked him when they were on their
way down to the chambers and his response.
"Not tonight," Quint said as another yawn crept up on
him. "But..." "Oh,
come on, Quint. I know that
Steve and Bob have a pool game that they are going to be playing tonight
and I need a partner. I know
that you like..." "I
would love to play some pool, Stuart, but man, even though I just had to
stand there, I should have the energy to do something, but at the moment,
I'm... I'm exhausted. You'll
have to...” Another yawn came and Quinton slightly moaned through it,
"... find someone else to help you out." At
level five, Quinton stepped out of the elevator and gave a short wave of
goodbye to Stuart then headed down the hallway toward his quarters.
PART
ONE Wending
his way to his quarters and stifling a few more yawns, it occurred to the
security guard that only a few weeks ago he would have laughed at any of
his friends who might have pleaded off because of being tired. Now, as he
entered the unlocking code for his door, that attitude had changed
radically. His view point,
after two weeks at the business end of a whip and Lothos' wrath, was
definitely altered. Opening
the door he went in and relocked it then just stood still.
Another yawn assaulted him and he went with it, stretching his arms
widely. Glancing around the
room, his gaze fell on the small answering machine near the phone and he
went to check the messages. There were only three, two from a couple of
buddies and the other from Shannon Halliwell.
Listening to her kittenish message came close to getting him to
ignore his fatigue and pick up the phone. Almost. "Sorry,
Shannon," Quint said as he reset the machine before going into his
small kitchen to see what he had in the fridge to satisfy his growling
stomach. Opening the
refrigerator door, he rolled his eyes and pulled a face at the sight of
the several cans of protein shakes clustered on the top shelf.
Grabbing one he shook it vigorously for several seconds then popped
the top on it. Three or four
long swallows was all that was needed to empty the can. "Well,
so much for dinner," he quipped, tossing the empty can in the trash
on his way out of the kitchen. Having
finished his dinner, such as it was, and obeying the fatigue, Quint made
short work of showering before crawling into bed.
The last thing he did before his head made contact with the pillow,
was to set his alarm clock for a half hour earlier than usual.
He had his next to last appointment with Dr. Hugen to determine how
much longer he had to go without real food.
Sliding under the covers, he punched his pillow a couple of times,
sighing softly, "When Hugen finally says I can eat again, if anybody
gets between me and the cafeteria, well... they hadn't better. That's
all." The
night passed quietly and even in the depths of slumber, some part of
Quinton Sylvane's mind reminded him again of how good it felt to be free.
Even when the alarm clock sounded off, the soft exasperated huff
vanished quickly as he sat up then got out of bed.
An alarm clock was a heck of a lot easier to deal with than a row
walker hitting a light switch before yelling for the men in the cells to
get up. Slapping the button on
top of the clock to shut it off, he told it, "At least when I slap
you, I don't have to worry about getting an extra five minutes in a
cell." Having
allowed an extra hour for the trip to the infirmary - invariably, no
matter how he timed it, Quint had discovered there was almost always one
or two people ahead of him, even at the very early hours he kept to for
his appointments--he dressed in his uniform and downed another shake for
breakfast. A cup of hot coffee
such as he longed for was out of the question for several more days, so
Quint settled for a can of cola for his morning caffeine fix.
After carefully brushing his teeth and taking precautions not to
use the brush on his almost healed tongue, he headed out the door. As
he and several of the other single men who lived along the same hall were
heading off to start the new day, there were a fair number of others
trudging past them, heading to their quarters after a long night's work.
While some small talk was exchanged on the elevator ride down
further into the complex, most of the guys just kept to themselves. On
the infirmary level, Quinton followed a couple of other guys out, knowing
by their uniforms that they worked this level, and made a beeline for the
check-in desk. Glancing around
the waiting room and not seeing anyone, he was sure that this time he was going to be at the top of the list. "Good
morning, Mr. Sylvane," the nurse behind the desk greeted him with a
smile as he signed in. "Just take a seat. Dr. Hugen will be with you
shortly." Quint’s
expression changed to one of surprise. "Shortly?
But... there's no one here but me," he pointed out, keeping
his tone and manner well tempered. The
nurse gave him a knowing look and her lips twitched a bit as she answered
him. "He's with another
patient that came in about twenty minutes ago.
So, just have a seat, Mr. Sylvane." "Oh,"
Quinton said simply before he smiled at her and made his way
over to the rows of chairs along the wall.
As it turned out, Quinton didn't have to wait too much longer.
When the nurse called him back, Quinton thanked her nicely then
went back to Room 10 and sat down on the examination table and waited
patiently for Doctor Hugen to
see him. When
Dr. Hugen finally came into the room, Quint sat up a bit straighter and
nodded his head at his greeting. "So,
how does the tongue actually feel?" Peter Hugen asked him
thoughtfully as he started over toward him.
"It's
still tender, but it's better than it was before." "Let
me take a look at it." Quinton
opened his mouth as Dr. Hugen had asked of him and closed his eyes more
aware of the doctor before him than he intended to be.
He felt Dr. Hugen's gloved finger
applying mild pressure to his tongue and was surprised when it
didn't hurt as it had previously. In
fact, he was more relieved than anything else.
He had been through so much that he just wanted for everything to
be as it was before; or at least as close as it was to get back to that
point. "You've
been drinking those shakes, haven't you?" Quinton
leaned back from Dr. Hugen, swallowed then answered adamantly.
"Oh, yes sir, I have. They
are the nastiest things that have ever crossed my lips, but I have drunk
every one of them." "I
can tell," Dr. Hugen replied simply.
"How
so, sir?" Quinton asked curiously.
"Those
shakes are slammed full of medicine for you, Quinton.
That's why it doesn't taste particularly good.
Each and every shake that you ordered, I made sure that an
antibiotic was in each one, and the only way that you have gotten as well
as you have is because of those shakes."
Dr. Hugen patted his patient on his shoulder.
"At least you can follow orders, Quinton." Quinton
slightly blushed at the kind words. "Yes
sir. It's a curse,"
he said softly. Peter
chuckled. "Well then,
let's see if you can handle one more order."
Inside, he grinned as he saw the fleeting "now what"
expression cross Quinton's face. "Whatever
it is, doc," Quinton said resolutely, mentally preparing himself for
another week of the nastiest tasting protein shakes he'd ever put in his
mouth, "consider it already carried out." Flipping
Quinton's medical file closed and slipping his pen into the breast pocket
of his white lab coat, Peter fixed the younger man with a certain look.
"I want you to..." 'Here
it comes,'
Quint thought but didn't blink as he watched the doctor's eyes. "Have
a shake for lunch today," Peter said evenly then paused a couple of
beats. "That's
it?" Quint asked, a vague frown creasing his forehead. "And
then," Peter said, a slow grin starting across his face.
"I want you to resume your normal eating habits."
He chuckled aloud when the security guard leaped off the
examination table with a whooped, "Really, doc?
You're not pulling my leg?"
The look on Quinton Sylvane's face reminded him of a kid turned
loose in a candy store. "I'm
quite serious, Quint," Peter confirmed his instructions.
"The only thing I will suggest is that you don't eat anything
extremely hot for a few more days. You're
tongue is healing very well but, as you, yourself, know, it's still going
to be a bit sensitive to heat for a short while longer. Otherwise, the
sky's the limit." Quint
grabbed Peter Hugen's hand and pumped it vigorously.
"Doctor Hugen, you don't know how many dreams I've had in the
last week about you saying those very words.
Well, something close to them."
Releasing the doctor's hand, Quint went to the door then hesitated,
looking back. "I can go now... right?" Peter
just nodded, saying, "Just sign out at the front desk and you're on
your own again." Quinton
Sylvane didn't need telling twice as he hurried along the hallway lined
with examination rooms. Pushing
through the swinging doors, he glanced around then went to the sign-in
desk. The
nurse looked up at him. Seeing
the grin plastered on Quinton's face, she asked, "Does Dr. Hugen want
you to make another appointment, Mr. Sylvane?" Taking
the clipboard handed to him, Quint signed his name with a flourish at the
bottom of the page then handed it back to her.
"Nope," he told her expansively.
"You're looking at a free man." The
nurse understood all too well what he meant.
Removing the signed sheet from the clipboard and putting it into
the patient's file, she asked, "So, Mr. "Free Man", what
are you going to do with all this new found freedom?" Once
more, Quinton didn't miss a beat. "I just acquired a date for this
evening." Shannon
Halliwell’s lips twitched as she asked, "Must be someone very
special," to which Quinton's grin broadened as he said, "Ma'am,
I have been dreaming about this particular date for over a week!
Nothing... and I do mean 'nothing'... is going to get in the way of
this date." With that
said, he turned and walked out of the infirmary.
As he waited at the elevator, Quint glanced at his watch. "Lunch
time," he said aloud to no one in particular.
"I can handle that," he said to himself as he followed a
couple of people into the elevator. When
a middle-aged woman with a couple of kids in tow gave him an odd look,
Quint gave her a polite grin. "Lunch,"
he explained. "What
are you having for lunch that could make you talk to yourself in an
elevator?" the woman asked. The
elevator slowed to a stop just then and as the woman and her children
exited the car, Quint told her with a grin, "A chocolate protein
shake, ma'am." He and
another passenger chuckled at the face the woman pulled before continuing
on about her business. "Just
one more protein shake," Quint murmured to himself as the elevator
resumed its upward ascent. "After this one, I'm never gonna touch one
of those things again as long as I live!" Quinton
Sylvane quickly made his way to the cafeteria and smiled at the woman in
the line. "One chocolate
protein shake, please ma'am." Seeing
the odd look that passed over her features, Quint just grinned as he eyed
the menu for dinner tonight. He
wasn't sure what he was going to have between the choices that were
available: spaghetti,
meatloaf, and chicken fried steak. Quinton
couldn’t help but swallow, his mouth watering as he thought about the
meal ahead of him. A
moment later, he left with the shake in hand before he started toward
level two where he knew he would spend the rest of the day working his
shift. That at least could
keep his mind busy while his stomach urged him to go back to the cafeteria
and eat a good solid meal. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ By
the time that he was released from work, Quinton knew exactly where he was
going and what he was going to do. Even
when he heard Marlon Simms calling his name, Quinton turned, walking back
to regard his friend. "What
was that Marlon?" "Where
are you going in such a god-awful hurry, Quint?
I thought maybe we'd go to the pool hall and play a few.
It's early and..." "No
can do, Marlon. I already have
a prior commitment." Marlon
grinned and tilted his head to the side.
"Who is it? I can
warn her that you're in a mood, maybe?" Quinton
just smiled brightly at his friend before he turned and started down the
hallway, only one destination in mind... the cafeteria. On
his way to the cafeteria, Quinton entered several other friends, more than
one of whom invited him to join them for one activity or another. He
chatted and even laughed with all of them, but in the end, gave each one
the same enigmatic answer of, "Sorry, but I can't."
To the last one, as Quint parted ways with his friend, Ben, he
added with a cheesy grin, "I'm late, I'm late for a very important
date. No time to say hello, goodbye..." Ben
Grayson just rolled his eyes and flapped a hand dismissively at Quint.
"Go on Sylvane. Get outta here. And give As
the elevator doors opened on the bachelor men's level and Ben exited the
car along with three or four other men, Quint called out, "Trust me
when I say that I wouldn't stand *Alice* up for ANYTHING. Especially not
this evening." He was
still chuckling at Ben's parting crack as the elevator doors slid shut and
continued its downward journey. Thirty
or so seconds later, the elevator again slowed then stopped, that action
alone causing Quint's sensory anticipation of his first real meal in
nearly two weeks to grow by
leaps and bounds. He reined in the urge to push past the few other people
exiting the car ahead of him, However, once he was clear of the elevator,
the eager man quickly dodged past them and made a beeline for the
cafeteria. Quint just did
manage not to run... just. As
luck would have it, upon reaching one of the two entrances to the large
cafeteria, he was met by the sight of lines extending a short way out of
each door. His stomach chose
that moment to growl rather loudly and he grinned sheepishly when the
middle-age woman ahead of him in the line gave him a look. "It's
been a while since I ate last," he explained.
The explanation was met with a considering look before the woman
faced forward again. Fate,
it appeared, took mercy on the ravenous security guard as the line he was
in moved at a steady, if slow pace. As
he reached the beginning of the serving area, Quint grabbed a tray and
utensils. He didn't realize how obvious his anticipation was until, as he
filled two glasses -one with milk and the other with Coke- an older man in
line behind him commented drolly, "Gonna be a two-fisted drinker with
your dinner, huh?" Quint
took the teasing in stride as he set the glasses carefully on his tray.
"Something like that, sir, yes."
Continuing his much anticipated trek along the serving line, he
selected a small garden salad with bleu cheese dressing as well as a side
dish of french-style green beans with slivered almonds. "What
may I serve you, sir?" one of the servers behind the counter asked
when at last Quinton stood before the area that displayed the three
entrees offered this evening. She
waited more or less patiently for him to make his selection. Quint
had to swallow a couple of times he was salivating so intently in
anticipation, before he could answer.
When he did though, the server heard him clearly.
"I'll have a double portion of the chicken-fried steak, if you
please, ma'am," he told her. "With the mashed potatoes and could
you add just a little more gravy, please?" The
woman never batted an eye as she filled a plate with the requested entree
then carefully slid it across the partition to Quinton.
Shifting her gaze to the next person in line she asked, "What
may I serve you, sir?" Quickly,
Quinton added a couple of the fresh hot biscuits that had just been
brought to the serving line to his tray, as well as a generous serving of
cornbread. Finally, as he was
approaching the checkout, he carefully placed two servings of chocolate
cream pie on his tray. The
man at the cash register did a bit of a double take at the sight of the
heavily laden tray. "Where
you gonna put it all?" he asked plainly as he started ringing up the
charge for the meal. Quint
just grinned broadly as he handed over payment for the food. "Don't
you worry, pal," he answered as he pocketed the bit of change he
received back. "Not a single bite of food on this tray will go to
waste. You can bet the farm on
that!" So saying, Quint
carefully lifted his tray and moved away from the line and paused to look
around for a place to sit. It took a moment for him to see a free table on
the other side of the room then carefully, but quickly headed for it. As
always happened at the usual hours of mealtimes, the cafeteria was more
than two-thirds full, a lot of them families enjoying a meal together.
Very few people spared him more than a quick glance as he passed
them. However, when he was
within about ten or twelve feet of the empty table he'd spied a moment
earlier, as he glanced to his right, Quint stopped in his steps when he
found himself looking at a familiar face... Tala's.
For a split second his thoughts were diverted utterly from the meal
on the tray he carried as he took in the fact that she was having dinner
with three of her girlfriends. Something
in her eyes ticked something in the back of his mind and it was that
'something' that caused him to nod slightly at her, smiling slightly then
start again for the empty table. He
stopped again when he heard a feminine voice call out to him,
"Quinton!" Turning
the direction of the voice that had called to him, he saw that it was one
of Tala's companions; he recognized that it was Amy Carlton. "Why
don't you join us?" Amy invited Quint. Glancing at the other women at
the table she grinned conspiratorially. "We can always make room for
a good looking man." Quinton
smiled at the obvious compliment and ducked his head a moment then looked
up again. Glancing at each of the table's occupants, his gaze again met
Tala's blue eyes, and again he glimpsed that 'something' in them. It was
that 'something' that decided for him. "Well,
thank you for the offer, ladies," he said diplomatically.
"Perhaps another time. Right
now I have an important date... a very important date to keep." Amy
Carlton shot a look to her friends before she perked up and answered back,
"Oh? Just who do you have
a date with, Mr. Sylvane? Who's
the lucky girl this evening?" Quinton
smiled, ducking his head slightly before he looked back up and met each
woman's eyes, the last one being Tala Lothoman.
Only then did he answer with a motion toward his plate as he lifted
the tray slightly. "I
have a date with my plate," he said as he looked back up toward the
girls, his eyes once more meeting Tala's. "What...
a... a date with your plate?" Amy echoed back at him.
Tala
leaned over at that point toward her friend and said, "He's been
drinking protein shakes for the past two weeks, Amy."
She met Quinton's eyes as she said, "He deserves every bite
after putting up with those shakes." Quinton
nodded slightly then shifted his stance slightly before he said,
"Well, ladies, you have a wonderful evening.
My date and I are going to... well... one of us is going to meet
its demise." Smiling
broadly, he took a step, stopped, turned back and said, "And I doubt
that it'll be me." Chuckling,
he went toward the empty table and sat down the tray before he seated
himself and began to eat, unable to stop himself from humming softly at
the food as he put it in his mouth. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Tala
watched the man who had narrowly escaped eating dinner with her and her
friends and couldn't help but feel appreciative after dealing with Andy
and Max throughout the day. He
had known, somehow, and had steered away.
That in of itself was something.
As Amy, Sharla and Karen stood and started to where Quinton was sitting, Tala bit her lip, wondering if her friends were going to bother Quinton during his first meal. When they didn't, just walking by, Tala slid a look toward him as he took a bite of the chicken fried steak and looked up at her. Seeing him nod with a slight grin, Tala smiled back at him and nodded back to him. As she turned to follow her friends, she turned back to look at Quinton to see him take another bite of his dinner and closing his eyes to savor the taste. 'Thank you,' she thought to him gratefully as she followed her friends out of the cafeteria.
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