Thanks to everyone's "team effort," Penny's furniture was finally assembled—
Ethan and Penny handled the TV stand itself, while the four tech guys tackled "spatial optimization" and "thermal management."
They unanimously agreed that "wasted space" is humanity's greatest shame.
Consequently, the speakers were stashed behind the flat-screen, the cables rerouted, extra cooling modules added, and Sheldon even installed a "sound-wave reflection-angle module."
Penny had assumed it was just a useless plank; after Sheldon lectured her for twenty minutes, she realized—she should never have asked.
"Gotta say, the place looks… really good now." Penny leaned back on the couch, surprised. "That TV stand is awesome!"
"Of course," Ethan said, sipping his drink. "It only took me three solid hours."
Sheldon corrected, "You merely followed the instruction manual—anyone with hands could do that. Spatial design is the soul; that's our masterpiece."
Before Penny could retort, Leonard eagerly changed the subject: "Hey, now that the TV and speakers are set up, let's test them. Three-on-three halo? This time Ethan won't be stuck watching."
"I'm actually not bored at all," Ethan smiled, "but if Penny wants in, I'm game."
"If you're short a player, count me in!" Penny straightened up.
"Great idea!" Leonard clapped.
"No," Sheldon said flatly.
Everyone turned to him.
"The wheel was a good idea. Relativity was a good idea," Sheldon folded his arms. "Letting Penny play is simply a terrible one."
"Why?" Penny raised an eyebrow.
"Why? Oh, Penny, Penny, Penny."
"What, what, what?"
"halo is a complex combat-simulation game with steep learning curves: countless weapons, vehicles, strategies, and an intricate storyline."
"Sounds cool."
Ignoring their bickering, Leonard and the guys set up the console.
Minutes later they had it running and tested the surround sound.
"Now that's true immersion," Howard boasted. "Gunfire—like bullets whizzing past your ears!"
They loaded their avatars; Leonard showed Penny the basics, and she picked it up quickly.
A flash of light streaked across the screen.
"Whose head just exploded?"
Sheldon's eyes went wide. "Mine."
"Got it!" Penny cheered. "Lock and load, boys!"
At Leonard and Sheldon's insistence, the teams became Leonard-Penny-Ethan versus Sheldon-Howard-Rajesh.
"Three-on-three, perfectly fair," Ethan judged.
"But she lacks experience; you and Leonard will be handicapped," Sheldon persisted. "Not to mention she—"
"Pop—"
"Your head's gone again!" Penny chirped.
"Spawn-killing violates the spirit of the game! You have to give people a chance…" Sheldon began, then dived for his controller as the screen exploded again.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Rajesh! Rajesh! She's got me cornered—cover me!"
"Cover yourself!" Penny squeezed the trigger. "Taste this!"
Sheldon's avatar dissolved into light once more.
He yanked off his headset, exasperated. "I'm done! I don't know how, but she's cheating! A girl can't be this good!" He stormed toward the door.
"Wait, Sheldon, come back!" Penny called.
He hesitated and looked back.
"You forgot something."
"What?"
"BOOM!" A Plasma Grenade detonated on his respawn point, and Sheldon's character burst into flames again.
Penny laughed. "Plasma Grenade. See? He's helping you put out the fire."
Sheldon frowned at her for a moment. "Laugh all you want… may you develop carpal tunnel soon." He stalked back to his apartment.
The door shut, Penny's laughter still echoing.
"Geez, he's such a sore loser?"
Ethan set down his controller. "Frankly, he wouldn't be happy even if he won."
"I like this game—fun stuff," Penny leaned back. "At least I beat the doctor."
"Nice job!" Ethan grinned, and the two high-fived again.
"Yeah, we work so well together—maybe we should enter the Halo Tournament," Leonard suggested.
"Or," Penny rolled her eyes, "we could just get a life."
"I guess that's always an option for you," Leonard said with a sheepish smile.
---
Every fun weekend is followed by a painful Monday.
Even if you're the 'boss' who owns his own Clinic.
The road is long and winding; today is Monday.
Ethan leaned back in the Clinic's swivel chair, eyes on the wall clock: 9:57.
Outside it was overcast, the air damp, the streets nearly empty.
Ethan propped his chin on his hand, staring out blankly—gloomy weather plus Monday felt like a stacked debuff.
With no Patients in sight, Ethan sighed in boredom: "Looks like even illness avoids Mondays."
"You seem out of it—rough weekend?"
Mary pushed the door open, two iced coffees in hand.
"Thanks."
Ethan took one and knocked back a huge gulp; the cold slid down his throat, sweeping away most of his lethargy.
"Back among the living," he exhaled. "It wasn't rough, just packed. How about you? Holding the fort alone these two days—okay?"
Mary's expression flickered. "Um… so-so."
"Doesn't sound like it," Ethan said, studying her. "What happened?"
Mary hesitated two beats, then mustered her courage. "I need to confess something."
"Sounds ominous." Ethan leaned back. "Spill it."
Mary bit her lip and whispered, "I took on a surgery without your permission."
Ethan's brows snapped together. "Surgery? Mary, you're not licensed to practice independently; any invasive procedure has to be supervised by me."
"I know, but the Clinic needs revenue," Mary said, voice dropping. "The situation was special—the Patient accepted full liability, so I…"
Ethan set his coffee down, tone softening. "What kind of surgery?"
Mary hesitated, choosing her words. "Just… a minor repair, technically cosmetic. Small incision and sutures, local anesthesia."
"Cosmetic?" Ethan frowned. "Aesthetic surgery?"
"Pretty much." She avoided elaborating, gaze drifting.
Silence hung for seconds, the only sound ice cubes clinking in their cups.
"You know I hate 'pretty much' answers."
"I know." Mary drew a breath. "But I'll take full responsibility. If anything goes wrong, it's on me."
Ethan studied her a moment, eyes tinged with resignation.
"Mary, should I even ask who the Patient was—and exactly what you did?"
"Better if you don't." She looked away, voice calm again.
Ethan sighed. "I'm guessing you weren't re-attaching a finger or fishing out a bullet."
"Let me guess… some kind of 'removal' or 'modification'?"
Mary stayed silent, eyes lowered.
Ethan rubbed his brow. "All right. If the Clinic's not in trouble, we'll leave it there. Next time, at least give me a heads-up."
Mary nodded. "I've already wired part of that surgery's fee into the Clinic account. It'll show up as a general surgical service."
Ethan raised an eyebrow. "How much?"
"Ten thousand U.S. dollars. I sent half to the Clinic, same as our first partnership." Mary answered softly. "I just want you to know… I wasn't being reckless."
"Oh my god!" Ethan exclaimed. "That number makes me even more worried!"
Mary pressed her lips together, saying nothing more.
A gust of wind brushed past; the Clinic door creaked faintly.
Ethan set his coffee aside and leaned back, gaze drifting through the window at the gloomy sky.
He knew perfectly well—Mary's surgery had been anything but 'cosmetic'.
For now, he asked no further questions.