Shawn pulled out a hundred dollar bill, waving it over the table before placing it back in his stash. “Nope. Sorry. Can't do it.”

“Yes, you can,” Gus replied, kicking Shawn's leg beneath the table. He rolled back his shoulders, forcing himself to sit properly if only to stay awake.

“I'm not staying in that hotel, Gus. I still have scars from the last time.”

“You have to pay, Shawn.”

“Not when there are bed bugs in the sheets.”

Gus glared angrily at his friend, but his expression softened when he caught sight of the overhead clock. 5 am and still no news.

“There are no bed bugs, Shawn. Melinda happens to be a very good house cleaner.”

“Melinda? Seriously? I fired her from Baltic Avenue for spitting in the glasses.”

Gus watched as Shawn's eyes darted from the clock to the board and back to the clock again. His shirt was cleanly ripped at the shoulder, revealing a red laceration forced closed by butterfly bandages. Gus tried to ignore the wound as though it were nothing more than a scratch, but in reality it was a constant reminder of the night's events. He really wished Shawn would change his shirt.

Gus shrugged the thought away. “Whatever. You stay, you pay. Now cough up.”

“Fine, then I won't stay. I'll go to the nearest bench and sleep there. And when I keel over from pneumonia it will be all your fault!”

“Don't talk about keeling over, Shawn. It's not funny.”

Gus didn't mean to snap. Taking another glance at the clock, he took a sip of water and leaned back.

It'd been hours since Juliet was raced to the hospital with a bullet wound in the side. Shawn had almost managed to push her out of the way, but was a split second too late. They'd watched, helpless, as she fell to the ground.

“Sorry, man. That was...”

“Whatever. Just pay up already.”

Shawn didn't reach for his stack. Instead he made a show of straightening his cards and eating chips.

As Gus searched for a response, a new figure entered the room.

“Lassiefish! You're back. We skipped your last three turns. I knew you wouldn't mind.”

“Of course you did,” Lassiter answered in a resigned tone. He slunk into the chair and immediately began counting his money. Seemingly satisfied it was all there, he began organizing his properties. “Whose turn is it?”

“That would be mine,” Gus replied, nudging Shawn angrily with his arm. He reached for the dice, throwing them hard enough to knock the horse off the board.

“You are such a child,” Shawn exclaimed, replacing his piece.

“Now that's what I'm talking about. Boardwalk.”

“Let me guess, you're going to buy it?”

“It is Boardwalk.” Gus reached over and grabbed the appropriate card, happily adding it to his pile. He turned to Lassiter, speaking in as dignified a voice as he could manage. “Your turn, Detective.”

“You didn't pay for the property,” Lassiter said flatly.

“That's right.”

“You have to pay.”

“Oh, I don't think so. I'm taking Boardwalk for free. Apparently that's how the game works.” He glared angrily at his friend who shrugged innocently then immediately winced from the action.

“Hey, I had a legitimate complaint about bed bugs. You're just cheating.”

“Yeah, Shawn, because you NEVER cheat!”

“We were ten! You have to let that go.”

Around them, a few faces turned and a few sleeping figures stirred.

Lassiter watched all of this with surprising calm. “So it's my turn?”

Gus shrugged passively, glancing again at the clock. Beside him, Shawn sulked, hugging his arms to his chest and pushing back into his chair.

“Good.” Lassiter smiled lightly as he reached over and grabbed the iron and horse and placed them in jail.

“Hey!”

“You're sleeping on a park bench,” he answered pointing at Shawn, then he turned to Gus, “and you're holding a property hostage. I'm fairly sure you just go to jail at this point.”

Before either could respond he rolled the dice. “Eleven, huh, that would put me on Boardwalk as well. And seeing as Guster's assets were seized when he went to jail, I'm just going to take that card.”

He ignored Gus and Shawn's complaints as he calmly placed his money in the bank.

“Now then, your turn.”

“You know, some people just have no respect for hygiene. If any crime was committed...”

“Your turn,” Lassiter interrupted calmly.

“Fine.”

Shawn continued pouting as he picked up the dice and passively threw them on the board. Before Gus could read the numbers, a figure clad in blue scrubs entered the room.

The game was immediately forgotten as all three stood up. “Please, sit,” the doctor said, pulling a chair up to their table.

“How is she?” Lassiter asked in his interrogation voice, but Gus could hear his fear.

“She's reacting to the antibiotics. We managed to bring her fever down to a manageable 103 and there doesn't appear to be any further complications from the surgery. At this points, were optimistic, but we won't know more for a few hours.”

It felt as though Gus was breathing for the first time since the accident. Beside him, his companions also drew deep breaths.

“Go home,” the doctor told them. “Take a shower, eat something. We won't have anything more to say for a few hours and you won't be able to see her for at least five. Take this time to rest.”

When the doctor left, Gus looked toward his companions. Shawn dug his fists within his pocket and Lassiter glanced back at the clock. After a moment of awkward silence, Shawn fell back into his seat. Gus and Lassiter immediately followed suit.

Taking a sip of his water, Shawn moved his piece to the “just visiting” area of jail. “Gus, Gus, I always knew you had an evil side, but a hardened criminal? Really?”

“You drove me to it. There's no denying that.”

“Sure, everything is my fault.”

“You got that right.” Gus counted the seconds as he reached for the dice. Soon Juliet would wake up and they'd be able to visit her. They'd see for themselves that she was okay. Until then, there was always Monopoly.