Medical Center. Morning.
After Adam finished treating that poor guy who got an arrow shot into the back of his head, he stepped out of the exam room. He made a quick round through the ER and then headed to the surgical ward.
As soon as he got there, he caught sight of a classic scene unfolding. Meredith was standing at the nurses' station, holding a patient chart, while a tall, handsome guy flirted with her. Her eyes sparkled, and she giggled like a schoolgirl. Anyone with half a brain could tell she was into him. 😏
But Adam, with his sharp eye, took it a step further. He could tell this guy wasn't just charming—he was a top-tier predator in the game.
Right then, a blur of white zoomed past. In three quick strides, someone merged into two steps and landed a solid punch on the handsome guy's cheek. And who else could it be but Dr. Shepherd?! That punch was so hard that even Dr. Shepherd shook his hand afterward, wincing in pain. Ouch! 😬
"What the hell are you doing?!" Meredith snapped, glaring at her ex, Dr. Shepherd.
Back in the day, she'd given him an ultimatum: her or his wife. He chose his wife. She'd been heartbroken but eventually moved on. Now, here was this good-looking guy chatting her up, and her ex comes in swinging? What's his deal?
"He's Mark," Dr. Shepherd said flatly, dropping the name of the guy he'd just decked.
"…" Meredith froze, turning to look at Mark.
Adam overheard it too. Having already gotten the scoop on Dr. Shepherd's messy love life from Cristina's gossip sessions, he knew exactly who this Mark was—the guy who'd turned Dr. Shepherd's marriage into a sprawling emotional grassland. Tsk tsk! 🌾
Soon enough, the other Dr. Shepherd—aka Montgomery, the "grassland" herself—and the surgical chief, Richard, who'd caught wind of the drama, rushed over. Chief Richard hauled the married couple into his office, while Meredith took the bruised Mark to patch him up.
Adam chuckled and shook his head as he walked off. For your average doctor, throwing punches in a hospital would be a one-way ticket to getting fired. But when it's the neurosurgery chief, the famous Dr. Shepherd? Whole different story. 😅
He caught a glimpse of Chief Richard roaring in his office. Couldn't hear the words, but reading his lips, it was something like: "My neurosurgery chief is throwing punches in my surgical ward?! Damn it, get an ice pack on that hand that makes you two million bucks a year!" Adam smirked. No way Dr. Shepherd was getting in trouble.
Forget the bromance between him and Chief Richard—Dr. Shepherd's annual earnings for the hospital alone were enough to keep him golden. Two million dollars in pure profit in 1999? That's no pocket change. And that's after his cut and all the other expenses. The total revenue had to be in the tens of millions.
Do the math: Joe's last brain surgery cost hundreds of thousands. Dr. Shepherd, being a neurosurgeon, handles complex, pricey procedures. Even if not every surgery hits that mark, they average out to at least $100,000 each. Ten million in revenue? That's just 100 surgeries. Even at one surgery a day, he'd rack up over 200 in a year. Plus, his reputation boosts the hospital's ranking, drawing in more patients like a magnet. 💰
Noon. Cafeteria.
"The chief's still got his back," George said, dishing out the gossip. "When he found out Mark was the other guy, he went from pissed to asking Dr. Shepherd if he'd thrown that punch with everything he had. When Shepherd said yes, the chief just patted his shoulder and walked off without another word."
"Totally normal," Cristina drawled. "Guys and their bro-code empathy. Lame."
"Oh, like women don't do it too?" George shot back. "You all are worse. Even if it's not your own rival, any other woman's a 'bitch' in your eyes unless she's you."
"Fair point," Cristina nodded, conceding with a grin. 😏
"So, you think Meredith's into this Mark guy?" Izzie chimed in, her gossip radar pinging. "I hear he's hot."
"Who knows?" Adam cut in. "Can we stop with the soap opera and talk shop instead? Izzie, didn't Dr. Montgomery take on a super weird case this morning?"
"Oh, yes!'" Izzie lit up, her eyes wide. "They say women don't need men to live, but I didn't think it could be that literal. Spontaneous, heart-pounding ecstasy out of nowhere! God, I'm jealous!" 😍
"Pfft!" George nearly choked. "Spontaneous ecstasy? That's a real thing?"
"Yup," Izzie said, smirking at George and Adam. "No guy, no tools, just boom—bliss anytime, anywhere. If every woman had that, what'd we need men for?"
"Uh, how would you get pregnant without us?" George huffed, indignant.
"That's all men are to you?" Adam teased. "I feel bad for your exes and future husband."
"Don't twist it," Izzie rolled her eyes. "We're talking basic needs here. Don't tell me you're clueless about how few guys actually deliver extreme happiness to women. And even then, half the time we're faking it to keep the peace. Honestly, men can't keep up. Like that saying from the East: 'No field gets worn out, only the ox drops dead.' Ten times a day, 365 days a year—could you handle that?"
"…" George turned red and clammed up. He couldn't.
Izzie grinned triumphantly and glanced at Adam.
"Heh," Adam met her gaze with a cool, confident smile.
"No way," Izzie blinked, stunned.
"For real?" Cristina leaned in, intrigued.
"Okay, enough of that," Adam said, dodging before they could push for proof. "What's Dr. Montgomery planning for treatment?"
"Not set yet," Izzie shook her head. "She got called away earlier, but it'll probably be surgery. Man, what a tough call. If it were me, I'm not sure I could give up a gift from God like that."
"Right?" Cristina nodded, totally getting it.
"Please," Adam shrugged. "If all you women are drooling over it, there's gotta be a huge catch. It's uncontrollable. Unless you're cool with staying home 24/7 to enjoy it, you really want to be randomly blissed out in public? That's not a gift—it's torture."
"Ugh," Izzie sighed. "That's the problem. If it were trigger-based, it'd be perfect. Guess how the patient got here? She took a cab, started losing it in the backseat, and the driver—clueless—stared so hard he crashed the car!"
"Pfft!" George sputtered again. "OMG, it's a life hazard! No wonder she's ditching this 'gift.'"
"Yeah," Izzie said, deflating. "She's from a single-parent home, just her dad. When she got to the hospital, we called her emergency contact—him. Then, right in front of her dad and all of us, she grabbed a pillow and hid her face… It wasn't her first time. You could tell she and her dad were mortified."
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