Third year Medical Student Phil Andrews looked around the waiting area of the Cascade General Emergency Room. It was almost time to start this rotation. He could barely control his disgust as his eyes swept over the people waiting in the chairs and pacing around the room. This wasn't the kind of medicine he was going to practice. All these sick people with God knows what in their blood. No, *he* was going to be a plastic surgeon. Only high class clients, who could pay. This was just a requirement to get there.

He had already gotten the general speech about what his duties would be, and was waiting with the other students for their first day to begin. Finally, a middle aged doctor in green scrubs and a long white coat approached.

"Good day, ladies and gentlemen," He began. "Welcome to the first day of the rest of your lives. I don't know what you are expecting to happen here today, but it will be far more intense than anything you have ever experienced before."

He turned and led them back to the work area to pause in front of the Nurse"s Station. "Before I give you your first assignments, I want to make sure you all know the unwritten rules of the ER. I'm sure you have all read the required reading, the rules and regulations and all that, now for the really important stuff. One: Never drink the nurses coffee, smoke their cigarettes, or steal their pens. A sleepy, nic- fitting nurse having to hunt for a pen is not a pretty picture." That comment brought some snickers from the other students as well as a couple of nurses, but Phil said nothing. He just wanted to get this over with. "Two: If you are near a phone and it rings... answer it. If you don't know the answer to the question, ask. And third: This is the most important for you students.... Never get between Ellison and Sandburg. Get someone more experienced in handling those two. If you don't know who they are, you'll find out, just ask the nurses." With that, he handed each of them a file and began to explain their day.

As he set about searching for some medicine an hour later, Phil overheard one of the nurses explain about Ellison and Sandburg. "Ellison's a cop and Sandburg is his partner, but he's only an observer or consultant or something. They are really protective of each other. They get really upset when one of them gets hurt. Getting in their way is like getting in the way of a speeding train." Phil listened and sneered. They shouldn't be allowed to run rampant though the department just because they were upset. They should learn some control.

A couple of hours later, Phil was filling out some information on one of his charts when a call came through on the emergency services radio. He listened with half an ear as the nurse took the information. A warehouse had exploded when the police had surrounded it to take down some drug manufacturers and some officers had gotten wounded.

As soon as the transmission ended the nurse who took the call announced in a loud voice to the other ER workers "Ellison alert! Ellison alert! Sandburg's coming on wheels!" The nearby nurses and doctors groaned and hurriedly began collecting supplies.

Phil snorted quietly, why all the fuss over a couple of cops? It didn't even sound like they were all that hurt, just a few lacerations. No big deal.

Moments later the Ambulance Bay doors opened and a stretcher was wheeled in by a couple of paramedics. One of them rattled off the patients vital signs as the other one argued with the man on the stretcher. It appeared that the man didn't want to be there. Phil wasn't surprised. By the looks of the guy, he was one of the one's the cops were after, probably strung out on something. His long hair was covered in mud and blood. He had several lacerations, some with pieces of wood still sticking out of them.

Phil sneered again and backed away from the group and wondered why the man wasn't cuffed to the stretcher. He was shocked when one of the nurses addressed him as Mr. Sandburg. So this is the infamous Sandburg. He wasn't impressed.

"Where's Ellison?" One of the nurses asked the paramedics, looking around nervously.

"Following. His Captain was driving, so you have a minute. Maybe." That was the last he heard as they rushed him into Trauma Room 1 to begin cleaning out his cuts.

Phil shrugged and continued with his notes until a disturbance in the waiting room got his attention. A large man was demanding to see Sandburg, and was practically being restrained by an even larger black man. This was exactly why he didn't want to do this kind of work. These people had no self control. No class.

Phil got up and stared towards the break room for a drink when a startled yelp came from the room that housed Sandburg. The loud man in the waiting room gave up on his tirade and simply charged into the exam area, in a beeline for Trauma 1.

Phil sneered openly at the brazen attitude of this man. No one was allowed in the Trauma rooms while the doctors were working so he stepped in front of the man to stop him.

"I'm sorry, sir. But you can't go in there." His tone made it quite clear that he wasn't sorry at all, and he used his best "Do as I say" look on the intruder. Behind him he could hear the patient babbling.

"Oh man, keep that away from me. You don't want to use that, man. Really. There has to be an alternative. I think you're rushing into this a little prematurely. Oh, man! Jim!"

The man in front of him looked like he would cheerfully break Phil in to a thousand pieces, but he held his ground. When Sandburg cried out for 'Jim', whoever that was, the man stared forwards again.

Phil blocked his way and put his hands on his chest to stop him. "Look, you can't . . ." Before he could finish the sentence he found himself slammed up against the wall with his feet dangling several inches off the floor. The man holding him said nothing, but a low growl escaped from the back of his throat, and his eyes seemed to boar a hole through his head.

Just when he thought he was going to pass out, another voice cut in.

"Detective Ellison, I would appreciate it if you wouldn't kill the med students. Bad press." The same doctor from that morning stood in the hall looking calmly at the pair in front of him.

Ellison snarled but released him and directed his attentions on his new prey. "I want to see Sandburg, now!"

"Of course, right this way." He opened the door for the detective and let him go in.

Out in the hall they could hear the relief in the patient's voice. "Jim, man! Am I glad to see you! Did you see the size of the tweezers they want to use on me, man. Looks mare like barbecue tongs only larger. You gotta talk some sense into them..."

Their voices drowned out as the door closed, leaving Phil alone in the hall with the doctor, whose name he had never bothered to learn. The doctor looked at him for a moment with a little smirk on his face. "That is what happens when you disregard Unspoken Rule Number Three." was all he said as he turned and walked off to check on another patient.

Phil glared at his retreating back. Who was he to mock him? That thug of a cop should be arrested, and his partner should be thrown into rehab. Well, he was only here for a single rotation. Then he would never have to deal with those two again.

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