Should auld acquaintance be forgot
<mumble mumble mumble>
<mumble mumble mumble mumble>
And auld lang syne!
--by Robbie Burns, as performed by the average drunk New Years
reveller
Kerry tried to hide under the afghan as the alarm went off. Carol had sent them the colorful, oversized blanket as a slightly belated Christmas present, and it was a good size for the two of them to be able to snuggle together under it... or an even better size for her to huddle underneath it by herself when she was trying to avoid getting up as Luka harangued her.
"C’mon! Time to get up," Luka ordered her, as he tried to wrestle the afghan away from her. This had become a ritual of sorts between them lately, of him nagging and cajoling and working up to the ultimate step.
"Don' wanna," she whined, and let out a sudden yipe when she found herself scooped up, blanket covering and all. "Nnnn... 'm tired!"
"Mm-hm. And what would you tell a resident who complained that she was tired because she'd been up late watching soft-core movies with her boyfriend... again?" She grumbled at the ill-disguised amusement in his voice, and struggled free of the blanket to stare at him imperiously. Of course, an imperious stare just wasn't the same, she thought, when she was in the middle of a pile of afghan in her fiance's arms, and completely naked to boot.
"I'd tell her that 'the Chief' is always right, of course," she informed him loftily; he choked back laughter and hugged her before setting her down in an untidy heap on the bed. Then he snatched the afghan away from her before she could regroup and pull it back around herself, and she harrumphed indignantly.
"Seriously, though... how are you feeling today?" he asked her, as he sat next to her on the bed and put his arm around her.
"Better than I have lately," she hedged, as she leaned against him. "But I have an appointment today."
"Oh. Who are you seeing on New Year's Eve? I didn't think most of the doctors in the hospital would be around on a Sunday - and a holiday, at that - if they could possibly help it."
"Mm. It may be nothing... I don't want to say anything until I know more. I don't want you to worry." She didn't feel right about holding out on him, but she'd have a final answer either way, soon enough.
"And yet, you have me worrying about a lot of possibilities, when you could maybe narrow down the possibilities a little...?" She shook her head firmly, and he sighed. "All right. Maybe you're just tired because you're a little anemic, huh? Make sure your doctor spins a--" She put a hand on his lips to silence him, and smiled at him.
"Luka. My doctor is competent enough to know which tests to order. I'm competent enough to know which tests need to be ordered."
"Okay, okay. But can't I worry about you a little?" She pretended to think about it, and smiled again.
"Hmmmm... okay." She nuzzled against him for a moment. "You know, we do have time for a quickie. How about it, zhdrebac?" She surprised herself with the aggressive question, but was even more surprised when he turned to her and suddenly stretched her out on the bed, and poised himself over her with one hand holding her hands just above her head. There was a gleam in his eye that indicated his approval of the general idea.
"A quickie, eh? So you'd like me to take you right here, right now? Maybe... maybe kiss and suck on your pretty breasts, winding each nipple to a rosy point, and trailing my way down your tummy," his free hand indicated each idea, as though he were acting as his own Lovely Assistant on a game show, "until you're wriggling very prettily under me, begging for me to give you release. Like that idea?" He waited for her quick, eager nod as he inspected her from head to toe, then smiled. "No. With you, never a quickie. Always a longie," he whispered in her ear, before letting go of her wrists and sitting up. "Remember? Now hurry up and get ready to go!" He left the room - Kerry noticed with some satisfaction that he was walking a little stiffly - but turned for a moment.
"Anyway, we'll have plenty of time after work. Fool around, maybe some slivovic at some point, to see the new year in a little late, and see if we can get all the way upstairs this time before it kicks in. Oh, and you can tell me how your doctor's appointment went?"
"I'll let you know after I know something for sure," she promised. It wasn't a complete lie, after all - she had a pretty good idea by now of what was going on with her, but she wanted to get a second opinion from a specialist.
* * *
Dave helped the paramedics get the man and his son out of the wrecked car, strapped carefully into the c-collars and shifted onto backboards, loaded into the rig. Watching the guy, with his obvious love and concern for his son... that was more than he'd ever gotten at that age. As he checked the guy's-- er, Dan Harris's vitals, he thought about how it would've been, if that had been him and Leo in that car wreck. Leo screaming at him for the latest thing he'd done wrong, no doubt. And wouldn't the old man just love what Dave was up to, these days.... "Paul," Harris said quietly. "How is he?"
"Don't worry, Mr Harris. We'll be at the hospital in no time, and they'll fix you guys right up." That was the cue for them to pull into the ambulance bay. Carter and Cleo met them as the back doors swung open, and Dave handed off Mr Harris to Carter (Cleo was heading for Paul, as Pickman rattled off the bullet for the kid).
"Decided to become a paramedic, Dave?" Dan looked around, the best he could, and saw a tall, thin man approaching... well, he assumed it was a man, anyway. Looked like a kid, really. The guy who'd first peered into the wreck of the car and asked him and Paul how they were doing, before introducing himself as "Dr Dave", grinned and shrugged.
"Nah. I'm doin' my ridealong. Part of the residency requirement, remember?" Dave had no idea what he'd said, that Hoss suddenly looked like that... like somebody'd pissed in his Cheerios. Oh well.
"Yeah. Have fun."
"You know I always do," Dave quipped, and turned back toward the rig. Dan noticed the movement in his peripheral vision.
"Wait! You're leaving?!?" Dave was startled by the near-desperation in the man's voice.
"Yeah. But you're in real good hands, now. Take care, huh?" He clapped Mr Harris's shoulder, and joined Pickman and Zadro.
Carter shook his head, and got Dan to Trauma 1. He could see that the boy who'd been brought in with Mr Harris was being worked on by Cleo in Trauma 2. A quick check later, he was able to remove the c-collar, allowing Dan to look around at the unfamiliar surroundings; he hadn't been in a hospital since Paul was born, 15 years ago!
Kerry came through the adjoining door, having checked on Cleo's progress. "Carter, are you all right in here - do you need any help?"
"Sure, Kerry. Can you grab me a chest tube tray? His lung's collapsed." She got the requested materials, and watched him work for a while before she was satisfied that he had everything well in hand. Meanwhile, Dan was giving Lydia contact information for his wife.
"Her name is Debra Harris, and she teaches at Our Lady of Perpetual Hope."
"Our Lady of Perpetual Hope... that's a Sunday school?"
"Yeah. Well, and regular school, too."
"Okay. Don't worry. We'll try to get hold of her as soon as possible.".
"I've got it, Lydia," Kerry said. "I'll call them, you stay here and help Carter." Lydia shrugged.
"Sure thing, Dr Weaver." Dan weakly put out a hand to touch her sleeve.
"Paul... how is he? I saw him in the other room - can I see him?"
"I'll ask Dr Finch," Kerry promised, and headed into the other room. Dan gasped out a nearly-hysterical little laugh.
"Finch, huh? Where's Dr Sparrow and Nurse Canary?"
"Oh, they don't come on duty till tomorrow," Lydia deadpanned as Kerry came back through and propped the door open before leaving. Dan could see that Paul was awake, although obviously in pain.
"Hey, Paul! How ya doin' in there?"
"Oh, just great, Dad," Paul responded sarcastically. "I feel like I've been hit by a garbage truck!" They shared a nervous laugh at that, then fell silent.
"You're gonna be just fine, I know it! Hang in there, son."
* * *
Abby bustled into... hm... curtain area 2. Yeah. There was the guy she was supposed to take up to Radiology for a head CT. Dan Harris. And hey... there was the other guy she was looking for.
Carter had just given Dan a clipboard with a consent form, to authorize treatment for Paul who, it seemed, had a badly broken leg. He scribbled his signature on the indicated line, then handed it back and looked curiously at the young woman who'd come in the room. Kinda short, average looking - though she might be prettier if she smiled more - maybe a doctor, since she was wearing one of those white coats.
"Did you tell Weaver yet?" She knew she shouldn't be discussing this in front of the patient, in even the veiled way she was, but she was anxious to hear how Dr Weaver had reacted to news of John's slip. She certainly hoped that the older woman wouldn’t punish him too harshly, considering that he'd at least come straight to her with the vomited pills, instead of concealing what he'd done.
"It's one of my resolutions," Carter assured her blithely, as he got Mr Harris ready to go up for his head CT. Dan watched them chit-chat about what the man had or hadn't told this 'Weaver' person - he wasn't sure what that something might be, and maybe he'd just seen too many of those sinister dramas set in hospitals, but he had a feeling that he probably didn't want to know what Dr Carter was supposed to tell 'Weaver'. Maybe that he was stealing internal organs from patients?
* * *
"John, you have to tell her." Abby kept at him relentlessly as they headed for Radiology, steering Mr Harris's gurney between them. "The longer you put it off, the worse it'll be for you when she does find out."
"And how will she find out? Are you going to tell her?"
"I’m your sponsor, not your mother," she snapped at him. "And you came to me as your sponsor - it wouldn't be ethical for me to tell her."
"Surely not just my sponsor?" He tried to kid with her, but she wasn't having any of it.
"If you don't tell her soon, you're gonna have to look for a new sponsor." She shook her head at his puppy-dog eyes routine. "You knew from the start that I was only there as your sponsor temporarily, but it's been three and a half months. I've tried introducing you to people at the meetings, but you've always found a reason not to ask them."
"You know... for someone who isn't my mother, you're sure doing a damn good imitation of it!"
"Asshole!" she hissed at him, and yanked the gurney along.
* * *
Dave took advantage of a break in his shift to grab some coffee from the lounge and check on how Mr Harris was doing. "So he didn't have any broken bones or anything?"
"Just a collapsed lung, Dave. Sorry to disappoint you," Carter informed him sarcastically, and he held up his hands in surrender.
"Hey, I was just wondering how he was doing. That's all." He checked his watch quickly, and wondered if he had time to make a call.
"Oh, Dr Weaver said the blood bank's running low - she wants everybody to donate before the end of their shift."
"I always do, man. Makes it easier and cheaper to get drunk, when I'm a pint low."
"Malucci! Are you coming, or not?!?" Dave rolled his eyes at Pickman's sharp summons, and drained the last of the coffee from his cup before throwing it away.
"Gotta roll, man. Catch ya later."
* * *
Dan sat in a wheelchair by the side of Paul's bed in the trauma room, and watched him... sleep? It had been scary earlier, seeing those doctors rushing into the trauma room, with nobody stopping to answer his questions about what was happening. "What's wrong with him? Why isn't he waking up?" The red-headed doctor he'd seen earlier, the one with the crutch, came over to speak with him quietly.
"Mr Harris, your son is unconscious, but he has no skull fracture or blood clots in his brain. He can probably hear you, if you talk to him."
"Uh... thanks, doctor." She nodded, and left the room. Dan took hold of Paul's hand a little awkwardly; he hadn't held the boy's hand in years. Last time was... geez... probably back when Paul had needed his hand held to cross the street.
"Hey, Paul. Ready to go home, kiddo? Open your eyes, huh? You're missin' a lot, being out of it, you know. You should have seen it - the one doctor was tellin' another doctor about a guy who'd stuck his pager in his ass! Imagine that! You don't suppose he had somebody calling the number over and over, do ya?" He laughed unsteadily and kissed Paul's hand, then held it to his face. He remembered when he'd done that every morning, to get Paul up for school.
He sobered suddenly, as he thought of the "cat scan" he'd had earlier today. The doctor - or rather, the med student - had helped him get past his panic at being in such a closed-in place, though overall she'd seemed a little cool towards him. Maybe it was just that he'd depressed her by talking about Nathan's death... there were so few people he could talk to about it, though, he supposed he'd figured that there wasn't any harm in it, since he'd never see her again. She'd looked... bored? Exasperated? Dan wasn't sure what to call the woman's reaction.
* * *
Dr Flint was quizzing Abby on the x-rays; she answered his questions as she stared at the lightbox, trying not to think about Dan Harris and what he'd told her. As long ago as it had been for her, she still thought about it sometimes... about the choice that she'd made. Harris and his wife hadn't been given that choice, though - he'd sent his wife out to have some time to herself after a hard night with the baby, he'd fallen asleep, and his wife had come home to a dead baby in the crib. Simple as that.
She, on the other hand... she'd made her choice all on her own. She'd been the only one who knew, except for the workers at the clinic down in Champaign (a safe two and a half hours by train) - and she hadn't used her real name, anyway. She didn't think she was the only woman who hadn't used her real name there... or at least the nurse hadn't batted an eye at having "Mary Jane Watson" as a patient. She'd never told Richard about it because she'd never considered it any of his business... it was her body, after all....
* * *
Kerry was looking up some records on the computer when the distraught woman came up to her. "Excuse me, I'm Debra Harris. Somebody called me, and said that my husband and my son had been in an accident?"
"Yes, Mrs Harris. Paul's scheduled for orthopedic surgery soon - his leg was broken in the accident - but he's still down here. I'll take you in to see them." She led the woman to the trauma room, where Dan Harris had fallen asleep with his head resting on Paul's chest. "Mr Harris? Mr Harris! Your wife is here." He awoke with a start, and looked around until he saw his wife.
"Deb, honey." She crossed the room, and stood on the opposite side of the bed from her husband... just staring down at Paul's unconscious body. "God... he looks so big just lying there like that. I remember when he was small enough for me to rock him to sleep in my arms." He could see that she was crying at the sight, and he felt awful.
"What happened, Dan?!?" He sighed.
"The cop said I ran a red light. I don't know, I don't really remember... I guess the radio was too loud, and we were arguing. Honey..." he began, reaching for her hand, but she pulled away angrily. He grimaced as the pain began in his chest again - that doctor had said that it was just the chest tube, and had promised to readjust it, but it was killin' him now. The redhead rushed over to him and began asking him questions about the pain, then went to the door of the room and yelled for someone named "Malik" to get in there.
"No!" he gasped, as the large black man in pink came around behind his wheelchair and began to move it. "I wanna stay with Paul! Please!"
* * *
The young-looking doctor - Dr Carter, it seemed - listened to Dan's chest again, and wrote something in the chart. "You've responded very well to the nitro, Mr Harris. We want to admit you overnight for observation and keep you monitored, since you're at risk for a heart attack." Dan looked up and saw a very tall, somewhat swarthy man in a labcoat approaching.
"What d'you have, Carter?" Dan was startled by the man's accent - it reminded him a little of Gurshy Duraku's - and stared at him wide-eyed.
"Angina, relieved by two rounds of nitro. Head CT was normal, ruling out intracranial bleed after an MVA." Carter rattled on as Dan watched him in bewilderment.
"Wait... what's all that mean? What's going on?"
"This is Dr Kovac," Carter said breezily, ignoring Dan's questions. "I'm going off shift now, and he's going to take over - you'll be in excellent hands, Mr Harris." Dan watched Carter leave, then turned to the new face.
"So what's going on?" he asked plaintively. Luka smiled, and took a seat by the bed.
"Your EKG," he indicated one of the machines that had been hooked up to Dan's chest, "shows some irregularities in your heartbeat. This is what could have caused the accident - decreased blood flow to your brain may have caused you to black out for a short time."
"So you mean it wasn't my fault? That I ran the red light?"
"Probably not." He smiled again, and Dan answered it with a relieved grin.
"Then it's not my fault! I gotta tell Debra that--nngh!" He groaned, as the pain blossomed once again and snaked its way up through his jaw and down his left arm, and the monitors began clamoring for attention.
"Mr Harris? You're having a heart attack - your coronary artery is blocked, and you must undergo angioplasty immediately!"
* * *
Helluva way to get to assist on an angioplasty, Luka thought, as he helped get Mr Harris prepped for the procedure. The man was still agitated, and asking to speak to his wife. To calm Harris, Luka promised to explain the circumstances of his blackout to his wife.
"I feel like a Volvo is parked on my chest," Dan murmured.
"Sedan or station wagon?" Luka teased him, and he smiled weakly.
"Semi? Ohhh... I just regret that this had to happen while we were arguing, you know?"
"Kids need to know that their parents are there for them... even though they don't always appreciate it," Luka told him. He remembered being something of a trial to his parents when he was 15; despite his rebellious streak, though, they'd successfully given him a good moral foundation, that he'd built upon later, and they'd demonstrated what a loving, happy marriage was like. He'd echoed their example the best he could with Danijela and Jasna and Marko... even if he hadn't been able to be there for them quite as much as he should have been. He sighed, and pushed the memories aside - it was too late for regrets, all he could do now was try to concentrate on giving Kerry everything of himself that he could.
"You a dad?" Luka hesitated a moment. Not anymore, I'm not, he wanted to say. But it wouldn't be appropriate to intrude on the troubles this man already had, by mentioning his loss. Kim had once suggested that he give group therapy a try, but he hadn't liked the experience... it had felt too much, to him, like a game of My Pain's Bigger Than Your Pain, and he hadn't gone back.
So he settled for a quiet, simple, "No." Dan just looked at him..
That was when Mrs Harris entered, wearing scrubs and a face mask. "Hi, sweetie," she said through the material of the mask. "Paul's awake. He's come through surgery without any problems, and he's asking for a cheeseburger!" Dan laughed softly at that.
"Ain't that ironic. I gotta blocked artery, Deb. Looks like the sliders finally caught up with me, huh? Hey! The accident. It- it wasn't my fault after all. They said I must've passed out because I wasn't gettin' enough blood to my brain."
"I'm so sorry about the way I behaved before, Dan. I shouldn't have acted that way. I was just so worried...."
"'Sokay, honey. I--" That was the cue for Dr Kayson to enter the room. He was wearing the same spacesuit-like sterile outfit that Luka had on.
"We're ready to begin. Ma'am - Mrs Harris - I need you to leave now, please." She left with obvious reluctance as Dan watched her go.
* * *
Luka watched the monitor as the catheter advanced through the blood vessels that went between Dan's heart and the puncture site in the groin. "How's it look, Doc?" Dan asked drowsily. Between the sedatives and the pain medication, Dan thought, he was feeling no pain... still not exactly excited to be there, but not crawling out of his skin with anxiety, either.
"Dr Kayson's just about there," Luka told him quietly. "Next, he's going to inflate a very small balloon inside the blocked artery. You may feel pressure, or discomfort, but that'll go away as he deflates it. He--" Luka rolled his eyes as Romano barged in - granted, he was gowned up and masked, but he wasn't supposed to be in here.
"Excuse me, why wasn't this patient considered for the surgical study I'm conducting?" Kayson didn't even look up from what he was doing.
"The patient had a coronary thrombosis. He wasn't a candidate." Romano snorted derisively.
"Yeah? I should've been called in to judge that for myself!" Kayson made a little "uh-oh" noise, as Dan yelped in pain, and Romano glared at him. "What's going on, Jack?"
"The catheter has torn the lining of the arte--"
"Which'll have to be repaired with open-heart bypass surgery. Told ya you should've called me in on this." Kayson muttered as he withdrew the catheter. "Smooth."
"Wait! Surgery?!? I don't know about this... can't we talk about this? Wait!!"
"No time to wait, Mr Harris," Romano told him baldly. "If we wait, you'll bleed to death in there."
* * *
Dan recognized the black doctor he'd seen with the redhead - Dr Weaver? - earlier in the hallway downstairs... finally, a face that wasn't a total stranger! "Hey... hey," he said weakly. "You gotta do somethin' for me. Tell my boy Paul I love him, and that I'm proud of him, please?" The man looked down at him, obviously startled, then tried to smile.
"You can tell him yourself, after the operation. You're gonna be fine, I promise you."
"Tell me something," Dan murmured. He could hear the unpleasant little man who'd barged into the other room, barking orders to somebody to start the anesthesia. "Didja get it out?"
"Did I get what out?" Benton had no idea what the guy was talking about... but that wasn't really anything new.
"You said some guy stuck his beeper in his... uh... you said 'never un-der-es-ti-mate the elas-ti-city," he overenunciated as he felt himself begin to slide under the influence of the anesthesia, "of the anal sphin-cter'."
"Yeah. Yeah, we got it out," Benton said quickly, and glared at Romano and Babcock, who were smirking at him behind their masks. He couldn't see Shirley, but he suspected that she was holding back giggles, too. Man, he just had to keep that in mind, the next time he was talking with somebody about a case: other people listened to these things!
* * *
"How'd it go, Peter?" Luka collared him, the next time he came down to the ER.
"He's in recovery, and he's awake... doing about as well as can be expected, for a guy who had to have his chest opened up. There were a couple of snags along the way, but we got him fixed up. I've already spoken to his wife, and I figured you might want to know, too."
"Thanks." He was relieved to hear that Dan Harris had made it through surgery; one of the techs had made a snide comment to him as they were leaving the room: killed another one, Kovac?
Kayson had fixed the tech with an icy glare. "Actually, George, Dr Kovac was assisting me. I was controlling the catheter when it tore the lining of the man's artery during inflation." The tech had slunk away, causing Kayson to laugh. "God, that was fun! Let me know if you want to do this again, hm?" Luka had politely acknowledged the offer, but privately he wasn't sure he'd take the chief cardiologist up on it.
Besides... if he switched to cardiology, he'd be working saner hours, but they wouldn't mesh any better with Kerry's shifts than they already did. And he liked being able to talk to her during the times that their shifts did overlap - it was easier to steal a quick kiss between patients, too.
* * *
"5... 4... 3... 2... 1... happy new year!" Kerry joined the countdown in the waiting area as the New Year’s program ushered in what was, for sure this time, the new millenium, and let herself get carried away by the sheer enthusiasm, for once. Suddenly she found herself a little more carried away than she’d expected - Luka had scooped her up, and absconded with her to the elevator.
"What are you doing?" She supposed she ought to be upset, but perhaps it was the romanticism of the situation that was affecting her. Either that, or it was the way he was kissing her as the elevator went-- oh, who cared where the damn elevator was going! It stopped with a slight bump, and he towed her out.
"I thought we should be alone for a little while."
"Who’s minding the ER while we’re gone?" She was trying to ask this, though, with the distraction of Luka kissing and caressing her neck, so it came out more like "Who's - ohhhhh - min - oh - ding the - mmmm - ER while - ohhh, please.... - we’re gonemmmm?"
"Randi?" He began to play with her breasts at that point, and she muttered something completely unprintable before she finally - very reluctantly - pulled away from him. "Seriously, though. We need to talk about this: when do you want to get married?"
"Sometime before July would be a good idea."
"Well, July is a hot time of year. Perhaps J--" He cut off suddenly. "Why July in particular?"
"Well... it’s just that..." she began, but wheels had begun to turn in Luka’s mind - her occasional nausea, the way her breasts had become larger, even her recent foray into strange combinations of foods... the other night, for example, he could have sworn that he saw her pour honey all over a dill pickle spear and devour it. He'd assumed, at the time, that it was some kind of snack that she'd picked up in Africa, but now that he thought about it, he remembered that there'd been two periods of time that Danijela had absolutely had to have a constant supply of chopped raw onion and raisins to hand.
"Are you pregnant? Is that it?" The question slipped out - he supposed he could have been more diplomatic about how he phrased it - and he knew the answer even before she nodded.
"Yes." He tried not to gasp, but since he was shocked, he produced a tiny strangled noise.
"How?" He shook his head... that was a dumb question! "I- I mean, when? How long have you known? Are you sure?"
"As far as I can tell, our baby was conceived Halloween night... either during that time on the floor of the foyer or later, when we went downstairs for the rest of the night." Luka blushed at the memory of that - they'd tried out a number of new positions. Most of them had been fairly unwieldy, but some had been extremely pleasant... in the most mind-blowing sense of the word. "And I found out the evening of the Christmas party - or at least, Elizabeth suggested that I take the test."
"Wait... I thought you said you’d had your period?"
"Breakthrough bleeding. My periods have never been very heavy, so I didn’t think anything of it. But Janet - Dr Coburn - checked me out earlier today, and confirmed that my estimated due date is in mid to late July."
"So that's what your mystery appointment today was." He laughed softly. "I was worried that there was something wrong with you, but you're 'just' going to have a baby. A baby...wow." He sounded a little dazed by the news, and Kerry didn’t blame him. She’d been pretty shocked when the suggestion had first been brought up... for that matter, she was still a little off-balance, and she’d had a week to think about it. "Why didn’t you say something? Why didn't you say anything this morning?"
"I wanted to be sure before I told you - I didn’t want to get your hopes up, and have the test come out negative." She hesitated. "You... you are happy about this, aren’t you?" He sighed, and massaged his forehead.
"Yeah. I am. I’m happy. A little scared, too, I guess. So you’re two months along, then?"
"Yeah." Her voice shook - it was a little weird, to have all of this out in the open and under discussion, instead of something she was keeping to herself - and he touched her cheek almost cautiously, then made a little eeping sound.
"Oh. Oh... my God! Sit down! Put your feet up... uh...." He trailed off in the face of the look Kerry was giving him - he wasn't quite sure whether she was giving him a "you idiot" look or was just trying to keep from laughing. "Or... maybe we should get back upstairs, before I figure out which of these storerooms is the 'love-nest' I've heard about, and drag you in there."
"The what?!?" She raised her eyebrows in disbelief; she'd heard that some staff treated certain parts of the hospital as their own private little motel-away-from-home - she'd certainly noticed the way that Doug had enjoyed plowing his way through the flashily pretty nurses and techs and residents, both here at County and at Mt Sinai. That he'd made it through med school at all, let alone his residency, with all the skirt-chasing he'd done, she considered a testament to his skills as a doctor. She supposed that was part of why she leaned on Dave so hard sometimes: she didn't want him to fall into the same sloppy habits that Doug had been allowed to pick up along the way.
"Mm. Rumor has it that somebody in the hospital is using one of these storerooms to carry on an affair - I guess some used condoms and condom wrappers have been found in a wastebasket down here." Off Kerry's curious look, he elaborated. "I mean, used condom. Very, very used. Yeah, that was my thought, too," he told her, as she made a face.
"You haven't heard of any of our staff not being
around on duty, have you?" She hadn't
noticed anybody being absent when they were supposed to be around, but
that didn't mean
as much as it once had... not as much as when she'd been known as the
"hall monitor of the
ER". He considered the question for a moment.
"No. Could be almost anyone here at the hospital. Could even be
Romano. Yeah... Romano,
and that secretary of his." He shook his head at the thought of those
two as a couple - they
were attractive enough in their own way, but they also tended to be
like a pair of aggrieved
pit bulls - and to think of the children they'd have!
"I heard he was seen leaving with a tall blonde on his arm recently." Luka raised an eyebrow.
"You mean that new guy in Radiology?"
"Robert Romano is not a homosexual, Luka." He narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously.
"Oh? And how d'you know?" She playfully traced a path up and down
the front of his shirt for a
moment before she answered him.
"Because," she told him in a quiet, confidential tone, with just a
trace of a smile, "he's never said
'Oh, my God, that Luka Kovac is hot!', that's why." He
began to cough... although that wasn't
enough to explain his red face.
"Umm... have... have other guys said that about me? And if you
say yes, please understand if I run
screaming from the building."
"Yeah, but then I'd have to explain why you were running outside screaming."
"Okay, okay. And stop that," he added, as she tried to tug his shirt
tails out of the waistband of his slacks.
"Guess we're not going to have slivovic tonight, after all, huh?"
"You're welcome to have some," she offered shyly, "I don't mind." He shrugged.
"Yeah, but I do. Drinking together is sociable... drinking alone is just very, very sad."
* * *
They rode the elevator back upstairs quietly, without the same
frantic kissing and groping that had
accompanied their trip down to the basement... although they were
holding hands. They returned
just as Dr DeRaad approached the main area with a dark and exotically
beautiful young woman in
tow. Kerry heard Luka’s shocked gasp and felt his hand tighten on hers,
and immediately suspected
who the woman was; her suspicion was confirmed by Carl's next words.
"I know this department has been especially affected by the chronic
short staff up in Psych, the last several
months, so I'm sure you'll be pleased to learn that we've hired a new,
permanent doctor. She won't actually
be starting for another few days, but I'm just giving her a tour of the
place - I’d like to introduce the newest
addition to the psych department, Dr Nadira Babic. I'm sure you'll all
make her feel very welcome."
Kerry remembered that Luka had told her the name of the woman he'd
been involved with briefly, when
he'd lived in San Francisco; she turned, and looked up at him
questioningly - is that her? His nod was
almost imperceptible, and her gut tightened up. Oh, damn damn damn....
* * *
Elizabeth shifted in her chair by Mark's bedside, and watched him
sleep. It had been a long, exhausting,
terrifying day... seeing him on the operating table in the grip of that
seizure, and being unable to do a
damned thing about it. And then later, when he'd deliriously tried to
get up, muttering about his lasagna
burning, she'd been scared out of her bloody mind.
And every time she tried to close her eyes, she saw the tumor that
Dr Burke had removed... brown and
slimy, like mucus from a smoker's lung; she knew she had fallen asleep
at least once, because at one point
the tumor in her mind's eye had leaped from the tray onto Mark's
shoulder, and done a little song and dance
routine:
Oh I am the tumour from Mark's headShe'd awakened with a start, relieved when there were no singing, dancing tumors in evidence.
Oh I am the colour of spoiled bread
I love to press on the Broca's area
And make him hum and hee all day
'Cos I am the tumour from Mark's head!When you're a tumour in Mark Greene's head
There's nothing like causing a seizure
He falls and drops and flips and flops
And switches pronouns and forgets words
When you're a tumour in Mark Greene's head!The life of a tumour in Mark's head
Is spectaculously sumjous-ed
Sumbum too-dee stata boom bah
Blue tips giraffe waffle tutu
The life of a tumour in Mark's head!
Still... if this would give them - Mark, Elizabeth, and the baby -
more time together, it would be worth
it. She could remember a time when she hadn't considered Mark in terms
of a lover... husband... father
of her children, but she couldn't remember exactly when that had
changed. And she sure as hell couldn't -
and didn't want to - imagine what her life would be like without him.
POST-OPERATIVE NOTES: