The water wasn't warm. In fact, it was down right chilly. James shivered in spite of himself, reached down and turned off the water. Pushing aside the shower curtain, he shook himself off, stepping onto the cold tile floor. Grabbing a fluffy white towel off the rack, he patted himself dry. He shook his head side to side like a dog, getting rid of the excess water in his hair. Wrapping the towel loosely around his waist, he stepped out of the bathroom into the adjoining bedroom he and Jessie shared.
It was quiet in Team Rocket Headquarters. Jessie was on a solo mission, James not having fully recovered from his leg injury. Meowth had been called away for some reason or another. Very rarely did Meowth let them in on all of his plans. Arbok and Wheezing were in the backyard sunning themselves. James was alone.
With a sigh of satisfaction, he threw the towel into the hamper and flopped down of the bed, his hands behind his head. Aside from the pokémon, James had the whole place to himself for at least four days, maybe more. He could walk a fair distance before his leg would give out and he was pretty certain he would be back in action with a clean bill of health within the week. James studied the ceiling for a while. A smile slowly made its way across his face. He knew what he could do. With a grin, he hopped off the bed and went to Jessie's closet.
The orderly looked up to see a nice looking young woman enter the hospital. She had long brown hair; the back tied up in a low ponytail with two long strands hanging down over her shoulders in front of her ears. She was well dressed in a pair of khaki pants, boots, and a dark blue tee shirt loosely tucked in. From her ears hung modest gold hoops. Her red lips pursed in concentration and her bright green eyes sparkled as she looked around the lobby. She held a large green gift bag by its handles with both hands in front of her body. She looked a little lost. Noticing the orderly staring at her, she smiled shyly and walked up to him. She was only a little shorter than him.
"Can I help you, miss?" asked the orderly, his voice oozing with charm. This was one hot chick.
"Um, yes. Things have been rearranged since the last time I came here."
"Oh, yes, miss. We did some renovations just last fall," replied the orderly. The girl's voice was sort of low and sensuous - very beautiful. He began calculating how much it would cost to take her on a date.
"I was wondering if you could tell me where somebody is," she said. She held the package up with both hands in front of the orderly's face and grinned impishly. "I have a gift for someone very special." The orderly nodded and took her arm, leading her over to a terminal in an information booth. He sat down and began typing with an air of importance about him, as if he was manning a space shuttle or arming a nuclear device.
"What's the name of this 'special person,' miss?" asked the orderly, hoping and praying for all he was worth that it was a female.
"Michael Roquet. R - O - Q - U - E - T."
The orderly cursed his luck and entered the name, but brightened significantly when he saw that Michael was a patient in the pediatrics ward. That meant she was his older sister. He eyed her critically - hopefully not his mother.
"Room 42A, pediatrics. I can show you there, if you'd like, miss."
The young woman smiled sweetly at him, but shook her head. "It's alright. I wouldn't want to distract you from your work. I can find it." She turned and started to leave, but looked back at the orderly. She blew him a kiss from a distance. "Thanks for your help!" she called over her shoulder and disappeared around the corner. The orderly stood up and ran his fingers through his hair. Still got it, he thought, walking back toward the emergency ward.
As soon as she was out of sight of the orderly, the young woman visibly gagged. What a jerk! Making so many moves at her. Michael better appreciate this, she thought hotly, but smiled anyway. It was going to be a great day. She walked through the pediatric ward, finally finding his room. Peaking in, she saw only an older doctor in the room. He stood up and started to walk out, nearly running into the young woman.
"Oh! Excuse me, miss..." He stopped and looked at her. His eyebrows came together. Suddenly, he laughed and rolled his eyes. Grabbing the young woman by the forearm, he pulled her into Michael's room and shut the door.
Twisting out of the doctor's arm hold, she stalked over to a chair next to the bed and sat down, putting her package gently on the floor next to her. She glared daggers at the doctor. He just grinned back.
"That's no way to treat a lady," she said indignantly.
The doctor only shook his head. "You're no lady, James. I delivered you, remember? You can't fool me. Although I must admit," he looked him up and down a few times, "you almost did. Probably would freak out some of my staff if they found out the truth. You in trouble with the law again?" The doctor walked over to the sink and wetted down a towel, tossing it to the cross-dresser.
James said nothing and pulled off the wig and the earrings. He untucked the shirt and wiped the makeup off his face with the towel. Glancing at the mirror, satisfied that he appeared male again, he finally deigned to answer the doctor.
"You're only in trouble if you get caught, Doc."
The doctor only shook his head and leaned against the door. He watched James as he stood up and walked over to toss the towel into the sink. The doctor's eyes narrowed.
"When did you get injured?"
James sighed. Doc caught everything. That's why he trusted him so much. He knew it was useless to try to deceive him.
"Almost two months ago. I got shot." James sat back down in the chair, crossing his legs in a lotus position. "But I'm not here to debate my health. Where's Michael? How's he doing?"
"Out at a program that's being hosted by an Entertainment Troupe. Some kind of pokémon show, or something." The doctor walked over and sat across from James on Michael's bed. "I'm not going to lie to you James. Your brother's health hasn't been improving. Of course, it hasn't gotten any worse either, which is nice. The physical therapy and the medication aren't giving us the results we need. I just wish I knew what else I could do to help him."
James shook his head. "I can try to scrape up more money for different treatments, if that's what it's gonna take, but-"
The doctor cut him off by holding up his hand. "It isn't a matter of money James. We're already trying some of the most high-tech and modern health care we have. Besides," the doctor frowned, "I really don't want to know where your money is coming from, because I know it isn't from your parents."
James bit his bottom lip, but said nothing. The doctor sighed and ran his hand through his white, thinning hair. He knew why James didn't want to go home, but he wished he could do something to help. Best not to get into an argument over that now. The intercom dinged, breaking the silence that had fallen between them.
"Doctor Docker, please report to emergency room 5. Doctor Docker to emergency 5, please."
"That's my cue," began Doc, standing up. "All it's going to take is time, James. Time and patience. Michael is a strong kid. He'll get well. You'll see." The doctor patted James on the shoulder and walked out of the room. James sighed and stretched out his legs, rubbing the soreness out of his right one. Doc poked his head back in the room.
"And take it easy on that leg," he said, disappearing again almost instantly. James stared after him in dumbfounded silence.
"How does he do that?" he asked aloud to no one in particular, shaking his head. With a sigh, he stretched his body again and closed his eyes, planning to catch a few winks while he waited for Michael to return.