After two nights sleeping sitting up in Efferton Manor, Elliot's bed felt like heaven. But she couldn't stay in it too long; she had to get back to the clinic to relieve Stark. After just a few hours rest, she made it back to the clinic and started flipping through charts to see which patients had stayed the night. It seemed like there were a lot
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He managed a pained smile. "Hi, Doctor Reid. You got a minute?"
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And, he's gonna hafta steal a crutch.
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He got up and looked around the room to make sure he wasn't leaving anything behind when he left.
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"What the fuck, Lunchbox? Fucking creepy-ass shit like that is fucking not cool!"
Bob tapped his head and then held up three fingers.
"My fucking head's fine. Three. What the fuck is that for? And what the fuck are we still doing here?"
Bob looked around shiftily and then jerked his thumb at the window, pursing his lips at Jay, who grinned and threw up the horns.
"Fuck yeah, fatass. Let's blow this joint. Heh. Blow. Joint. I made a fucking funny."
Bob just rolled his eyes. And then they left. Discreetly. Through the window.
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