Chapter 16: Mary's Secret
Thanks to everyone's "collaborative engineering effort," Penny's furniture was finally assembled—
Ethan and Penny handled the actual TV stand construction, while the four tech nerds tackled "spatial optimization" and "thermal dynamics management."
They unanimously agreed that "wasted space is humanity's greatest engineering failure."
Consequently, the speakers were strategically positioned behind the flat-screen, the cables professionally rerouted, additional cooling fans installed, and Sheldon even engineered a "sound-wave acoustic reflection module."
Penny had assumed it was just a decorative panel; after Sheldon's twenty-minute lecture on acoustics, she realized—she should never have asked.
"I gotta say, the place actually looks... really great now." Penny settled back on the couch, genuinely impressed. "That TV stand is awesome!"
"Naturally," Ethan said, sipping his Coke. "It only took me three solid hours of manual labor."
Sheldon corrected him immediately, "You merely followed the IKEA pictographic instructions—anyone with opposable thumbs could accomplish that. The spatial design and acoustic engineering is our intellectual contribution."
Before Penny could respond, Leonard eagerly changed the subject. "Hey, now that the TV and surround sound are fully operational, we should test them properly. Three-on-three Halo deathmatch? This time Ethan won't be stuck spectating."
"I was genuinely fine just watching," Ethan smiled, "but if Penny wants to play, I'm definitely in."
"If you need another player, count me in!" Penny sat up enthusiastically.
"Excellent idea!" Leonard looked thrilled.
"Absolutely not," Sheldon said flatly.
Everyone turned to stare at him.
"The wheel was a good idea. Einstein's theory of relativity was a good idea," Sheldon crossed his arms. "Allowing Penny to participate in competitive Halo is objectively a terrible idea."
"Why not?" Penny raised an eyebrow challengingly.
"Why? Oh, Penny, Penny, Penny."
"What, what, what?"
"Halo is an extraordinarily complex first-person tactical combat simulation with exceptionally steep learning curves: dozens of weapons systems, multiple vehicle mechanics, intricate map strategies, and a rich narrative backstory spanning multiple games."
"Sounds fun."
Ignoring their escalating bickering, Leonard and the guys began setting up the Xbox 360.
Minutes later they had it running and tested the surround sound system.
"Now that's genuine audio immersion," Howard boasted proudly. "When the Battle Rifle fires—it's like bullets whizzing directly past your eardrums!"
They loaded their custom avatars and Spartan configurations. Leonard quickly showed Penny the basic controls, and she picked them up surprisingly fast.
A brilliant flash of light streaked across the split-screen.
"Wait, whose helmet just exploded?"
Sheldon's eyes went wide with shock. "Mine."
"Got one!" Penny cheered triumphantly. "Bring it on, boys!"
At Leonard and Sheldon's insistence, the teams became Leonard-Penny-Ethan versus Sheldon-Howard-Raj.
"Three-on-three, perfectly balanced," Ethan observed diplomatically.
"But she lacks fundamental experience and map knowledge; you and Leonard will be severely handicapped," Sheldon protested. "Not to mention her complete unfamiliarity with—"
Pop—
"Your head's gone again!" Penny chirped gleefully.
"Spawn-camping violates the fundamental spirit of competitive gaming! You have to allow opponents a fair chance to—" Sheldon began lecturing, then desperately lunged for his controller as his screen exploded again.
"Raj! Raj! She's got me pinned down in the corner—I need covering fire!"
"Cover yourself, dude!" Penny squeezed the trigger repeatedly. "Eat plasma!"
Sheldon's Spartan avatar dissolved into particle effects once more.
He yanked off his headset in complete exasperation. "I'm finished! I don't understand how, but she's somehow cheating! A casual female gamer cannot possibly be this proficient!" He stormed toward the door.
"Wait, Sheldon, come back!" Penny called out sweetly.
He hesitated and turned back. "What?"
"You forgot something important."
"What did I forget?"
"BOOM!" A perfectly timed Plasma Grenade detonated on his respawn point, and Sheldon's character erupted in digital flames yet again.
Penny burst out laughing. "Plasma grenade stick. See? I'm just helping extinguish the fire on your armor."
Sheldon glared at her for a long moment. "Laugh while you can... I sincerely hope you develop severe carpal tunnel syndrome very soon." He stalked back across the hall to his apartment.
The door slammed shut, Penny's victorious laughter still echoing.
"Geez, talk about a sore loser."
Ethan set down his controller. "Honestly, he wouldn't be satisfied even if he'd won convincingly."
"I really like this game—that was genuinely fun," Penny leaned back contentedly. "At least I thoroughly dominated the doctor here."
"Outstanding performance!" Ethan grinned, and the two exchanged an enthusiastic high-five.
"Yeah, we make a pretty solid team—maybe we should enter the MLG Halo Championship," Leonard suggested hopefully.
"Or," Penny rolled her eyes dramatically, "we could just get actual lives outside video games."
"I suppose that's always technically an option," Leonard said with a sheepish, self-deprecating smile.
---
Every fun weekend is inevitably followed by a soul-crushing Monday.
Even if you're technically the 'boss' who owns your own medical practice.
The struggle is real; today is Monday.
Ethan leaned back in the clinic's worn leather swivel chair, eyes fixed on the wall clock: 9:57 AM.
Outside the sky was overcast and threatening, the air heavy with moisture, the streets nearly deserted.
Ethan propped his chin on his hand, staring out the window blankly—gloomy weather combined with Monday morning felt like suffering multiple status debuffs simultaneously.
With absolutely no patients in sight, Ethan sighed with profound boredom. "Looks like even illness itself avoids Mondays."
"You seem completely out of it—rough weekend?"
Mary pushed through the door carrying two iced Starbucks coffees.
"Lifesaver."
Ethan accepted one gratefully and took a massive gulp; the cold liquid slid down his throat, instantly sweeping away most of his mental fog.
"Back among the living," he exhaled with relief. "It wasn't particularly rough, just incredibly packed with activity. How about you? Holding down the fort solo these past two days—everything go okay?"
Mary's expression flickered briefly. "Um... more or less."
"That doesn't sound convincing," Ethan said, studying her face carefully. "What happened?"
Mary hesitated for several beats, then gathered her courage. "I need to confess something to you."
"That sounds ominous." Ethan leaned back in his chair. "Let's hear it."
Mary bit her lower lip and said quietly, "I performed a surgical procedure without your authorization."
Ethan's eyebrows shot up sharply. "Surgery? Mary, you're not licensed to practice medicine independently yet; any invasive procedure absolutely has to be supervised directly by me."
"I know, but the clinic desperately needs revenue," Mary's voice dropped. "The circumstances were unusual—the patient signed a comprehensive liability waiver, so I decided to proceed..."
Ethan set his coffee down firmly, his tone softening slightly. "What kind of surgery are we talking about?"
Mary hesitated, carefully choosing her words. "Just... a minor corrective procedure, technically classified as cosmetic. Small incision with sutures, performed under local anesthesia only."
"Cosmetic?" Ethan frowned deeply. "You mean aesthetic surgery?"
"Essentially, yes." She deliberately avoided elaborating further, her gaze drifting away.
Silence hung heavily for several seconds, the only sound being ice cubes shifting in their plastic cups.
"You know I absolutely hate vague 'essentially' answers, Mary."
"I know." She drew a steadying breath. "But I'll accept full responsibility for this. If anything goes wrong legally or medically, it's entirely on me."
Ethan studied her intently for a long moment, his eyes reflecting quiet resignation.
"Mary, should I even bother asking who the patient was—and exactly what body modification you performed?"
"Probably better if you don't know the details." She looked away, her voice becoming calm and clinical again.
Ethan sighed heavily. "I'm guessing you weren't reattaching a severed finger or extracting a bullet from a gunshot wound."
"Let me take a wild guess... some kind of voluntary 'removal' or 'modification' procedure?"
Mary remained completely silent, eyes lowered to the floor.
Ethan rubbed his temples wearily. "Alright. If the clinic isn't facing immediate legal trouble, we'll drop the subject for now. But next time, at minimum give me advance notice before you operate."
Mary nodded quickly. "I've already transferred a portion of the surgical fee into the clinic's business account. It'll appear on the books as a general elective surgical service."
Ethan raised an eyebrow with concern. "How much are we talking about?"
"Ten thousand dollars. I sent half to the clinic account, same revenue split as our first partnership arrangement." Mary answered softly. "I just wanted you to understand... I wasn't being reckless or irresponsible."
"Jesus Christ!" Ethan exclaimed. "That dollar amount makes me exponentially more worried about what you actually did!"
Mary pressed her lips together tightly, saying nothing more.
A cold gust of wind rattled past outside; the clinic's front door creaked faintly on its hinges.
Ethan set his iced coffee aside and leaned back fully, his gaze drifting through the window at the threatening gray sky.
He knew perfectly well—Mary's weekend surgery had been anything but conventional 'cosmetic work.'
The procedures she was performing were from American Mary—extreme body modifications for the underground community.
For now, he chose to ask no further questions.
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