~The Izzy Cam~

"Hurry up! Before she gets back!" Duff was giggling like a madman, rummaging wildly through the drawer. "This is what she gets for telling everyone I had the fucking clap, she deserves this." Duff's grin was slightly sinister as he withdrew a lacy red pair of panties from the mess of unfolded scrubs inside of her dresser.

"Ha, jackpot!" Steven giggled like a mad man. Izzy-who was holding the camera- looked back and forth nerously, "Guys, this isn't right, invading her privacy like this! She's at MJ's wedding, she's probably super depressed right now."

"It's called a 'panty raid,' idiot, it's not invading her privacy, she won't miss these. She's not hitting anything these days." "That's fuckin' sad, only a freaky chick would own a pair of these. Think we should ask Axl what we're missing?" Steven inquired perversely, earning a smack on the back of the head from Duff. "No, you idiot! We get to visualize it ourselves, using these-" he held up the underwear, "and our hands."

"Oh, right," Steven agreed. "Good plan."

"No, it isn't! What if she-"

"Izzy, for the last time, she'll never be into you! If anyone it'll be Slash."

Duff rolls his eyes, "He's been complaining about her 'blindness' for weeks. She doesn't want Izzy, she doesn't want Slash."

"My hands are getting super itchy, let's just go."

"Wait a second," Izzy muttered, "I thought you both had girlfriends?" The two blondes exchanged a glance, and stared at their black-haired friend. "So? She's hot, in an 'I'm too intelligent for you' way."

"I know," Izzy sighed dreamily, and Duff smacked him on the back of the head.

****

Skipper' POV

Hypnosis. That's all surgery is, really.

You're mindlessly following a set of instructions. Clip this, cauterize that, resect here, dissect there. Pretty soon you're completely in the zone, nothing matters except for the bleeder hiding in the Temporal Lobe, the cyst forming on the brain stem. When I'm really focused, you could ask me my name and I would draw a blank.

Perfect for forgetting about this weekend, and the fact that I've managed to alienate everyone in my life. The O.R has been my home for the past 36 hours, a comfortable one too, free of best friends and exes, and men who tell you they love you and then turn around less than an hour later to marry another woman.

Speaking of this, Michael showed up to work bright and early on Monday. I was lucky enough to spot him before he laid eyes on me, on my way out of the O.R, and turned around just in time to escape any contact. I've been in the O.R since.

Unfortunately I've run out of brain tumors now, so I'll have to make a break for my office. I poke my head from the O.R like a turtle from it's shell. Back and forth I peer, looking for signs of anyone I know. When I determine that the coast is clear, I slip out the door, and speed walk across the bridge between the east and west wings of the hospital.

I'm just about home free when someone calls my name behind me. Groaning, I stop in my tracks, and turn on my heel. Two women in formal clothing approach me, one wearing a visitor's sticker on her blouse. "Okay, um, whatever you're selling just leave me a pamphlet on my desk and I'll get back to you, I'm extremely busy."

"I'm not selling anything," the woman says, tucking a dirt brown lock of hair behind her ear. The woman next to her-who seems vaguely familiar- gives a plastered on smile. "Chief Nelson, This is Lara Kramer. Miss Kramer, this is our esteemed Chief of Surgery, Skipper Nelson." Lara holds out a hand, her seemingly dull eyes brightening at the mention of my name.

"It's a great honor to be meeting you, Chief. I'm Lara, as she said, an advisor to Larry Kramer." I stare at her blankly, without a word.

"Um... the creater of The Aids Coalition to Unleash Power?" I nod once, "Oh, well, give Mr. Kramer my gratitude. I appreciate the support."

"No, we appreciate you. We heard about your recent FDA approval of the first drug ever to treat AIDS?" My eyes widen, and I look at the woman next to her. "The FDA responded to my request?" "They did," the second woman smiles at me warmly. "Congratulations Chief, on behalf of the Board of Rose Memorial Hospital." So that's where she's from.

"I thought I had a nurse to deliver the confirmation papers to you earlier-" "I've been in the O.R. All day." Lara nods, gazing at me adoringly. "Look, all of us owe our lives to you. Without you, people would still be dying from the disease, undiagnosed and untreated. It's why ACT UP is deciding to throw you your very own benefit! We're gonna raise money for your research." Her grin is toothy, and shows a bit too much gum.

My smile falters a little. A benefit, which means meeting people. Talking to people, interacting with people. All the things I hate to do.

"Oh, well... um, that's... thoughtful." I tell her, nodding slowly.

"We're calling it the 'AIDS International Benefit Conference.' We researched you and booked some of your favorite musicians, they're gonna perform, and... we'll charge people money for tickets and food. The profit is expected to be in the thousands! We'd be so happy if you'd RSVP to be our guest of honor," Lara says excitedly, wringing her hands.

"Sure," I smile through gritted teeth, swallowing the urge to throw up.

"Oh, thank you!" I'm crushed into an extremely uncomfortable hug, pressed her her slightly pointy bosom. "And thanks again." She sighs, turning on her heel and speeding away.

"Wait! When is it?"

"Tomorrow night," the second woman says, patting my shoulder stiffly. "And also, the Board is expecting you to publish about AZT in the International Medical Journal by the end of the month, so... get on that!" She follows Lara across the bridge. I flip off her back, "'So get on that,'" I mimick her, and storm to my office, slamming the door behind me.

My exhaustion hits me all at once as I plop down behind my desk, sigh, and examine the new load of papers that have been dropped here. Sure enough, the FDA confirmation letter is here, buried amongst other things, including the guest list for tomorrow night. "Perfect, just perfect."

There's a hard knock on the door, and slowly but surely, the wooden thing creaks open. "Um, Skip?"

My heart nearly stops beating altogether. Michael stands before my desk, dressed awkwardly in salmon covered scrubs that must be a size too small. "I was wondering where to get the surgeon's scrubs, you know, the blue ones? I tried to ask around, but the other residents are a bit... disappointed that I got signed on so quickly."

I stare up at him, hard, as if I'm trying to use The Force to levitate him somewhere else. He doesn't move, he just stands there with the pleasant expression you would use on a colleague. Nothing more, nothing less. There's no warmth behind his eyes, no affection. It's like someone replaced his heart with an glacier.

I stand slowly, and gather up my things, before I simply walk around him and leave the office.

****

I don't know why Daddy bothered to have a pool installed, he's too short to swim and I've never seen him do it. That's okay, the crystal clear blue waters are a perfect calming agent, pushing and pulling against the side of the pool.

It's a fancy pool too, the hot tub sending a stream of steaming water into the ice cold liquid below it. It's in the shape of a pericardium, too, or at least to a surgeon it is. I set up a lawn chair right beside the refreshing oasis, decked out in my best bikini, pull up a lawn chair, and set out to bask in the light. I brought a pencil and paper to start drafting my article, but nothing comes to mind, so I just doodle.

"I just got a call from the hospital," says a voice as footsteps approach on the hot concrete. Daddy stand over me, looking disapproving as usual. "That's funny, I thought you weren't-"

"They said that you were nowhere to be found, and that the O.R board was a mess. They called your apartment building, even your 'friends' at their hotel to see where you were, no luck. And then they called me. I told them I'd be damned if I found you at my place, and, well... I did. Half naked and wasting time, which isn't like you. The last part, at least."

I scoff with irritation, "This is a pool, Dad. I'm supposed to be half-naked." "Sure," he responds sarcastically, and sits on the edge of my lawn chair. "I also heard about your recent accomplishment. Congratulations." He plants a soft kiss on my forehead and runs a hand over my curls, smiling a bit. I stare at him as if he's the bogeyman. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing, I just... when you do stuff like develop a medication for a disease of your own invention, it just reminds me that you're not completely throwing your life away."

"I didn't invent AIDS, I just exposed it to the world." I return to my doodling, and realize with a bitter taste in my mouth that all my doodles either have something to do with Slash, Michael and Rosie, or surgical tools.

"Is something going on? I imagined that if you wanted to waste some time you'd be with your friends." I blow away the breath I was holding, and set the pencil and paper to the side. "No, I'm not. I'm alone today, which is perfectly okay."

"Do you want me to call Carleigh? She's dying to talk to you." I shake my head once. I completely forgot about her, maybe I'll go catch up with her later on.

"No."

"Then what's going on?" I feel that he has the urge to say 'I told you so,' and I'm definitely not giving him the pleasure. "Nothing, just... sometimes, I... I don't know... think Slash might be slightly jealous of Rosie and Michael?" Daddy blinks, and squints at me for a few seconds. I blink back.

"Oh, you're serious?" He says with a slightly chuckle. "Yes!" I slap his arm with embarrassment, crossing mine tightly over my chest.

"Well of course! You didn't see that coming? He's human! I mean, look at you."

"What is that supposed to mean? I can't just... have a male best friend that I can do everything with? It doesn't always have to be sexual."

His lips tighten, and he lets out a sigh. "Slash is a man, and you... you are an extraordinarily beautiful girl. Sure, in the beginning maybe he could tell himself he wasn't attracted to you, but... I did well, genetically speaking. You're going to encounter many men in your life who will feel this way about you, Slash is not the last."

"So! Things were going well before, so... maybe if we just act like it never happened, then... it never happened." The more I think it over in my head, the more appealing it sounds. I mean, if we just go back to the way things were before, then it's like no one ever said anything at all! Perfect. Fool proof.

"That's not a good idea, Skipper. It'll only get worse if you-"

"Don't worry, Daddy. It's all taken care of." I straighten the aviators covering my eyes, grimacing when I realize they belong to Slash.

"Okay, well... who are you going to take to the benefit?"

"You know about that crap?" I groan, massaging my temples with quaking fingers. "Yes, the lady on the phone was very talkative. I think you should be greatful. You're practically a child genius." "I'm not a child, Dad, I'm eighteen."

"Still a child." He gives me another kiss, and stands, drifting toward the house. "Dad, I'm-"

"I suggest you make up with your 'best friend.' He's your best bet."

He's got that right.

Oh, Michael. WHY.

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