FADE IN: INT. TOM'S HOSPITAL OFFICE (TAKE IT UP IMMEDIATELY BETWEEN TOM AND BILL)
TOM: I'm sorry, Bill. I don't know what to tell you.
BILL: Word got around when I walked out on Amanda's surgery.
TOM: You did the only thing you could do.
BILL: I was afraid I'd slip up, Dad.
TOM: The surgery was too critical to take that risk.
BILL: What's going to happen next time?
TOM: Are you working on your therapy?
BILL: Yeah, I'm working with the rubber ball every chance I get.
TOM: What about the numbness in your fingers?
BILL: It comes and goes. Are you going to talk to the Chief of Staff about me?
TOM: Don't ask me to do that, Bill.
BILL: I am asking, Dad.
TOM: Wait and see if your name comes up in rotation.
BILL: It won't and you know it. Why doesn't he have the guts to at least have it out with me face to face?
TOM: He's trying to give you time for your arm to heal. He can't afford to take any risks...
BILL: Dammit, Dad. I've got as big a load as I can handle, what with Mike and his attitude toward Laura...
TOM: She hasn't talked to me again about what happened with Mike.
BILL: She won't talk to anyone about it, not even me. All she'll say is that she might as well be dead as far as Mike is concerned. And you know what happened when I tried to talk some sense into him.
TOM: We can't pressure the boy, you know that.
BILL: And I can't take any more pressure either. I'm not going to let my career as a surgeon go to hell without trying to prove I can hack it.
TOM: We're talking about patients' lives, Bill.
BILL: I'm asking for your support, Dad. When I go before the Chief of Staff.
TOM: I can't promise I'll give it to you.
BILL: You've got to.
TOM: Not unless I'm certain you're fit to operate.
BILL: Routine surgery, that's all I'm asking.
TOM: There's no such thing as routine surgery and you know it.
BILL: Dad, I'm begging you.
TOM (struggling with emotions): You think it's easy for me? Knowing that Mickey may have destroyed your career as a surgeon?
BILL: It isn't going to happen!
TOM: I pray to God it won't! But I can't support you if you go to the Chief of Staff. Not when you're asking me to put a patient's life on the line. You know I can't do it, Bill. So don't ask me.
SLOWLY DISSOLVE TO: INT. DOCTOR POWELL'S OFFICE AT THE SANITARIUM.
INT. DOCTOR POWELL'S OFFICE AT THE SANITARIUM. (SCENE IN PROGRESS BETWEEN POWELL AND MARLENA, WHO IS STUDYING MICKEY'S FILE)
MARLENA: He really tried to kill his own brother.
POWELL: A gunshot wound in the arm. If he wanted to kill him, he wouldn't have missed. Not at such close range.
MARLENA: Unless he was too deranged to be able to see clearly.
POWELL: The physical violence is gone now.
MARLENA: This obsession he has about blonde hair...
POWELL: His ex, wife, Dr. Laura Horton, has blonde hair.
MARLENA: I'm surprised you ever let her try to treat the man.
POWELL: He was withdrawing completely.
MARLENA: You were afraid of catatonia.
POWELL: Of course. And Mickey kept asking for Laura.
MARLENA: Because he wanted to hurt her?
POWELL: He never tried to touch her.
MARLENA: Interesting case.
POWELL: Want to take it on?
MARLENA: If he agrees. I told him at least it would give him a chance at beating me at chess.
POWELL: Don't underestimate the man. He's a brilliant lawyer. Or rather he was.
MARLENA: You think he's found a home here.
POWELL: I think he's afraid of the outside world, yes.
MARLENA: I'll want him on out-patient therapy as soon as possible, doctor.
POWELL: That's your decision, when the time is right. But you'll have to take the responsibility of any further violence.
MARLENA: First, I have to get his trust. Then we'll see. Let me know what he decides.
(MARLENA STARTS TOWARD THE DOOR, IS STOPPED BY POWELL'S VOICE)
POWELL: Dr. Evans...
POWELL: It's no joke, you know. About the blonde hair. He tried to strangle Judy Carter.
MARLENA (with a grin): Don't worry about me. Like Mr. Horton pointed out, I'm not a real blonde.
(MARLENA LEAVES. HOLD ON POWELL'S FACE, THEN DISSOLVE TO:)
INT. DAYROOM (MICKEY, AS A MEDICATION NURSE TRIES TO GIVE HIM A PILL AND A PAPER CUP OF WATER)
MICKEY: Sorry, but I don't need it today.
(MICKEY PUSHES THE PILL ASIDE)
MICKEY: Tell Doctor Powell he promised...no more sedation.
(THE MEDICATION NURSE GLANCES AT HIM NERVOUSLY, BUT MICKEY HAS ALREADY GONE BACK TO THE CHESS GAME)
(FADE TO BLACK FOR BUMPER: HOUR GLASS INSERT (11 seconds) AND STATION BREAK (1 minute, 21 seconds)
INT. MICKEY'S SANITARIUM DAYROOM (A SHORT TIME LATER. MICKEY IS ALONE IN THE DAYROOM. BRING DOCTOR POWELL INTO THE ROOM. HE CROSSES TO THE TABLE, WATCHES MICKEY MAKE A MOVE. MICKEY FINALLY LOOKS UP AT POWELL).
MICKEY: Too bad you don't play.
POWELL: I've tried to learn, but it's very difficult. The nurse tells me you refused your medication.
MICKEY: I don't like my reaction to it. I have better things to do than to sleep away my life.
POWELL: Alright, I'll think about reducing your medication. If you'll think about agreeing to therapy sessions with Dr. Evans. What do you think of her?
MICKEY: Does it matter?
POWELL: Very much. She won't take on your case unless you want her.
MICKEY: It doesn't matter one way or the other.
POWELL: Does that mean yes?
MICKEY: Why not? At least she can play chess.
POWELL: Don't play games with her, Mickey.
MICKEY: I want to beat her at chess.
POWELL: You know what I mean. The other kind of games you've been playing with the rest of the therapists on staff.
MICKEY: Nobody was compatible.
POWELL: Dr. Evans is a very good psychiatrist. Very sharp.
MICKEY: So it seems.
POWELL: She'll walk off your case before you know it if you give her any nonsense. And you can't afford that.
MICKEY: Why not?
POWELL: If you want to get out of here one day.
MICKEY: Of course I do.
POWELL: Not with the same old drive you used to have.
MICKEY: I was sick in the head. I was ready to kill anyone to escape.
POWELL: And now?
MICKEY: I plan on being a model patient. So that you won't have any choice but to release me.
POWELL: No games with Dr. Evans?
MICKEY: Why, Dr. Powell. I'm surprised at you. What kind of games can I play in the dayroom except ping-pong and chess?
(TAKE MICKEY, SMILING UP AT HIM, POWELL WATCHING HIM CLOSELY AND DISSOLVE TO: INT. HOSPITAL COFFEE SHOP)
INT. HOSPITAL COFFEE SHOP (SCENE IN PROGRESS BETWEEN BILL AND GREG)
BILL (bitterly): It feels pretty great when your own dad won't go to bat for you!
GREG: Bill, look...
BILL: Dammit, I want to operate.
GREG: We would have been in trouble if you hadn't walked out on Amanda, and you know it. And you were only assisting in that instance, Bill.
BILL: Thanks a lot, buddy.
GREG: You wanted it straight, didn't you?
BILL: Yeah, I guess I did.
GREG: What are you going to do?
BILL: I don't know.
GREG: How does Laura feel?
BILL: I've been keeping it from her. Because of Mike.
GREG: I'm sorry about all this. The way it happened, the mess with Mike.
BILL: Yeah, it's been a great year all around.
GREG: At least, you and Laura have each other. And the baby.
BILL: That's all I've got right now. Thank God for Jennifer Rose. She's the only thing keeping Laura and me sane...
(SLOWLY DISSOLVE TO: INT. LAURA'S DEN)
INT. LAURA'S DEN (CLOSE SHOT OF JENNIFER ROSE IN HER BASSINETTE. THEN CUT TO ROSIE LEANING OVER THE CRIB AS HANK MAKES A FOOL OF HIMSELF OVER THE BABY)
HANK: Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo...
ROSIE: Stop them dang-fool noises. Can't you see she's trying to sleep?
HANK: She loves to play peek-a-boo.
ROSIE: She's too young to know what all the fuss is about.
HANK: She likes the sound of my voice.
ROSIE: Oh, sure.
HANK: She does! Look at the way she's smiling!
ROSIE: Probably gas.
HANK: If you aren't the most aggravatin'...
(SOUND EFFECT: THE DOORBELL RINGS)
ROSIE: Keep your eye on the babe, will ya?
HANK: If you think you can trust me...
ROSIE: No further than I can throw you, Hank...
(SHE EXITS THE ROOM TO ANSWER THE DOOR, MUMBLING TO HERSELF ENROUTE)
ROSIE: Men. Think they know it all about younguns.
(SHE OPENS THE DOOR, AND THERE STANDS NATHAN CURTIS, DRESSED TO THE HILT, A CARNATION IN HIS BUTTONHOLE. ROSIE IS A LITTLE TAKEN ABACK AT HIS ELEGANCE).
NATHAN: I'm looking for Mrs. Rose Carlson.
ROSIE: I'm Rosie Carlson.
NATHAN: You can't be.
ROSIE: Beg pardon?
NATHAN: Dr. Horton told me you were a widow.
ROSIE: Well, he's right. I am.
NATHAN: Not someone as young and lovely as you.
(ROSIE'S HAND GOES TO HER HAIR)
ROSIE: I don't believe I caught your name.
NATHAN: Nathan Curtis, Esquire.
ROSIE: That's a pretty fancy moniker. Lands sake, come in, come on in. I plumb forgot my manners.
(AS THEY ENTER THE HALLWAY, BRING HANK IN FROM THE DEN. HE LOOKS AT NATHAN SUSPICIOUSLY)
HANK: What's all the commotion about?
ROSIE: No commotion, just a gentleman caller.
HANK: A what?
ROSIE: Hank, mind your manners. Mr. Esquire, this is Hank...
NATHAN (holding out his hand): Nathan Curtis, Esquire.
HANK (shaking hands): Pleased to meet you, I think. First time I ever met up with an Esquire.
(AND ON ROSIE'S FACE, LOOKING FROM ONE MAN TO THE OTHER, RATHER ENJOYING THE SITUATION...FADE TO BLACK FOR COMMERCIALS # 7 AND # 8 (2 minutes, 3 seconds)
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