Gap-Filler: "Rites Of Spring"

By: Lori (SixteenOzs)

DISCLAIMER: "ER," the characters and situations depicted within are the property of Warner Brothers Television, Amblin Entertainment, Constant c Productions, NBC, etc. They are borrowed without permission, but without the intent of infringement. The story presented here is written solely for entertainment purposes, and the author is not making a profit.

Please do not post or redistribute without the disclaimer above, or without the consent of the author.

Feedback is welcome. Please send all questions, comments or criticisms to SixteenOzs02@yahoo.com

SUMMARY: Continuation of the episode "Rites Of Spring"

RATING: PG

Elizabeth's laughter echoed through Ballroom C of the Renaissance Hotel as the music came to an end. Mark gently guided her up so that they were once again standing face to face.

"I suppose you do know how to do this," she concluded with a grin.

"Didn't I tell you?" he grinned back.

She laughed. "Yes, you did." Glancing around the room, she commented, "From the looks we're getting, I think they've figured out we're not supposed to be here."

He smiled as he took her hand. "Then let's go!"

They were both laughing as they returned to their table in the bar. "I can't believe we just did that!" Elizabeth exclaimed.

"Why not?" Mark wondered.

She looked at him for a moment, then just smiled and shook her head. "I'm not sure."

He glanced at his watch. "I don't know about you, but I haven't had anything since breakfast this morning. Would you like to go out for dinner?"

"That sounds great," she said as she pulled on her pale yellow blazer. "What are you in the mood for?"

"I know of a great little Italian place a few blocks from here," he explained. "We wouldn't even need a cab or the El."

"After our luck today, that sounds perfect!" she chuckled as she picked up her coat and attaché case. "Ready?"

"Sure," he nodded as he lightly placed his hand on her lower back and guided her out of the hotel bar.

"This place is wonderful," Elizabeth remarked as they entered the candlelit, Italian bistro fifteen minutes later.

Mark smiled. "I'm glad you like it."

After being shown to their table, and ordering a bottle of wine, they both began to look over the menu. "Everything sounds so wonderful, and I'm starving!" Elizabeth said.

"Well, it's my treat, so choose whatever you like," Mark replied.

"Really?" she questioned skeptically.

"Yes," he nodded. "You were almost run over by a cab, locked in a storeroom and missed your presentation. Your day has been rough enough, the least I can do is buy you dinner."

"Thank you," she said softly.

"You're welcome," he said with a smile. "What should we start with?"

"I've always been partial to the mozzarella tricolore," she admitted. "Does that sound okay?"

"Sounds great," he agreed.

A few moments later, the waitress returned with the wine and took their orders. As she left, he wondered, "What made you go into medicine?"

She took a sip of wine before answering. "That's an easy one. To please my father and irritate my mother."

He chuckled. "Sounds like there's a story behind that one."

"My father is a surgeon, as was my grandfather," she explained. "My mother is an astrophysics professor and wanted me to go into something more 'refined' than 'cutting up people,' as she so eloquently puts it."

"Did she know your father was a surgeon when she married him?" he asked with a grin.

"Yes," she laughed, "but it didn't last too long. They divorced when I was nine."

"I'm sorry," he said sympathetically.

"Don't be," she assured him. "They're both much happier. If they'd stayed together, they probably would have killed each other by now."

He laughed ruefully. "I know all about that."

"Sounds like there's a story there," she remarked with a grin, purposely reiterating his earlier statement.

"Thank you," Mark nodded to the waitress as she placed the appetizer on the table.

After dividing the mozzarella tricolore between their plates, she smiled, "I'm still waiting for that story."

"I got divorced about three years ago," he explained.

"What happened?" she inquired. Realizing that may have been a bit too forward, she added, "If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. I understand."

"It's okay, I don't mind," he said with a shrug as he took a bite. "Jen and I got married right after college. The idea was that she would work while I went to med. school, then she'd start law school when I started my residency. After graduation, she was going to get a job in the DA's office; and after my residency, I was going into private practice."

"But you ended up in the ER," she pointed out.

"Yeah," he nodded with a slightly guilty smile. "I did my ER rotation third-year, and just knew that was what I wanted to do. After Jen finished law school, she got a job offer clerking for a judge in Milwaukee. I looked into transferring to one of the hospitals around there and the best offer I could find was a spot as a junior resident. I was chief here. Jen and Rachel ended up getting an apartment in Milwaukee and coming home on her days off. That lasted for about a year. Then her clerkship was renewed, we sold the house here, I moved to Milwaukee and commuted back to Chicago."

"That's quite a commute, isn't it?" she wondered as she lifted her fork to her mouth.

"Four hours, round trip by train," he replied. "I did that for about six months. Then, one night they were involved in an MVA on the way to an office Christmas party. I got to the hospital in Milwaukee as they were about to take Jen into surgery. Rachel was there along with one of the other clerks from the office and his daughter."

She studied him carefully for a moment, then concluded, "She was having an affair."

"Yeah," he nodded quietly as he stared at the table. Sarcastically, he added, "One big happy family."

"I'm sorry," she said sincerely.

He looked up and smiled weakly. "It wasn't you fault."

"I know," she said softly, "but I'm sorry you had to go through that."

"I don't know," he shrugged. "I've sort of come to the conclusion it was for the best. If we'd stayed together, we would have probably driven each other crazy by now."

"You mentioned Rachel," she commented. "Is that your daughter?"

"Yeah," he nodded with a smile. "She turned ten in February."

"She lives in Milwaukee with her mother?" Elizabeth suggested.

"Saint Louis," he corrected. "She moved there with Jen and Craig last fall."

"Do you get to see her much?" she wondered.

"Not as much as I'd like; some time in the summer, breaks during school." He sighed. After taking a sip of his wine, he looked back to her. "By now, I'm sure I've bored you to tears, so I think that's enough about me."

She laughed softly. "What would you like to know?"

The waitress returned and placed their entrées on the table. He reached for the bottle of wine and refreshed both of their glasses, then asked, "What made you come to the States?"

She thought for a moment, then smiled. "Interesting question. I'd have to say it was probably the trauma."

"What do you mean?" he asked as he sliced the veal scaloppini, then picked up a piece on his fork.

"In London, there aren't nearly as many violent traumas, especially shootings and stabbings, as we have here," she explained. "Largely, I'd say that's because there are much stricter gun control laws. If there are no guns, the A&E isn't going to be receiving any GSWs."

"'A&E?'" he questioned with a confused expression.

"Accident and Emergency. Our name for the ER," she said with a chuckle as she took a bite of her chicken tortelloni.

"I see," he nodded. "So, how did you get interested in trauma in the first place?"

"Well, I did some work in the A&E, and really enjoyed it. It was nothing like some of the shifts we see here. There, all we really saw were bar fights, auto accidents, that type of thing," she answered. "You know how you said you just knew you wanted to work in the ER after your rotation third-year?"

"Yeah," he said as he reached for his wine glass.

"It's sort of the same thing, I suppose. I wanted more hands-on experience with trauma, and I knew an inner-city hospital in the States was the best place to find that." She sighed softly. "It's just too bad I had to sell my soul to Romano to get here."

"How so?" he questioned.

"When I first came over, he sponsored my fellowship and the papers for my visa with the INS. Even though he didn't renew my fellowship this year, he hasn't let me forget it," she said heavily.

He smiled slightly. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I once sold my soul to Kerry Weaver."

She looked at him and laughed. "This I've got to hear."

"It was a couple years ago. Her year as chief resident was coming to an end, and they were talking about creating a new attending position for the ER. To make a long story short, I agreed to support her as the new attending if she supported my choice for her replacement as chief," he explained.

"So what went wrong?" she questioned with a grin.

"After Kerry was named as the new attending, my friend turned down chief resident," he said with a rueful laugh.

"Ohh," she laughed. "That is bad. But now that you know all about why I became a doctor, what about you?"

"Remember how you said you became a doctor to please your father and irritate your mother?" he questioned.

She nodded.

"For me, it was just to irritate my father," he said with a slight smile.

"What happened?" she asked curiously.

"Dad was a life-long Navy man. He wanted me to 'follow in his footsteps,' so to speak," he replied.

She watched him curiously for a moment, then shook her head. "I don't see you taking orders that well."

He laughed. "Neither do I!"

"That's why you went into medicine?" she questioned. "So you wouldn't have to go into the Navy?"

"Yes and no. I didn't want to go in the Navy, but I've just always known that I wanted to be a doctor. So here I am," he shrugged.

"How long have you been here?" she inquired.

"Chicago or County?" he wondered.

"Both."

"I've been in Chicago for about sixteen years, since I started college, and I guess I've been at County for the last ten," he replied.

"Wow," she remarked before taking a bite of tortelloni, "that's quite a while."

"Being a Navy Brat, we moved around a lot when I was a kid, then finally settled in San Diego. I always hated moving and I like it here, so I've stayed," he said as he continued to eat his veal.

"Think you'll ever leave?" she questioned.

"I don't know," he shook his head. "I sort of doubt it, though. I considered it a couple of times, this past winter I almost joined NASA, but I'm an ER doc and County's like family. I don't really see a reason to leave."

"NASA?" she said suspiciously before taking a sip of her wine. "As in the space program?"

"Yeah, a friend of mine from med. school was in the program, and he asked if I wanted to go on a shuttle mission as a payload specialist. It would have required about eighteen months of training in Houston," he explained.

"You turned it down?" she asked.

"You spend every day for eighteen months training, doing the same thing day in and day out, going over the smallest details, making sure nothing is going to go wrong; but at the same time, preparing in the event something does go wrong. Sure, there's a huge payoff at the end, but nine times out of ten, I can get that same payoff everyday in the ER," he said with a smile.

"The adrenaline rush?" she wondered.

"Yeah," he nodded with a sheepish smile.

"You never get tired of it," she commented.

"Is that why you came up with the idea for the trauma fellowship?" he inquired.

"I'd say that's part of it," she admitted. "The prospect of not having to work with Romano is certainly another part."

He laughed. "Tell me about it. I can't wait until we can get a permanent chief for the ER and be rid of him."

"You could always try to get Amanda Lee back," she said with a grin.

He gave her a wary look, then took a sip of his wine before replying. "No, thank you."

"I think you'd be excellent for the position," she commented.

"No," he shook his head. "I went to med. school so I could practice medicine, so I could treat patients. I don't want to spend my time poring over schedules, budgets, reports. I don't want the administrative hell-hole that comes with the job."

She nodded thoughtfully, "I can understand that."

"How much time do you have left on your internship?" he wondered.

"About five weeks," she said with a sigh.

"I don't think I could have done it," he admitted.

"That was the same thing my father said," she smiled.

He chuckled. "So, is it better or worse the second time around?"

She considered this for a moment. "Probably a little of both. This time, I know what I'm doing, but I still have to put up with all of the intern scut and the hours. The worst is probably having someone constantly looking over my shoulder."

"There's a part of me that has to wonder if you're crazy for doing this, but you do have my respect for it," he smiled.

She laughed. "I probably am crazy, but thank you."

"You're welcome," he said softly.

Placing her fork on her plate, she gracefully lifted the napkin from her lap and wiped the corners of her mouth. "Dinner was wonderful. Thank you so much."

"Don't mention it," he replied with a smile as he finished the last bite of veal. "Feel up to dessert?"

She sat back in her chair and laughed. "I don't think I have room!"

"You should really try the marjolain," he suggested with a grin. "It's a white and chocolate mousse filled cake."

"Mmm," she sighed. "Sounds wonderful, but I really shouldn't."

"Come on," he teased, "you know you want it. What if we split a piece?"

She stared at him a moment, then laughed. "You are an awful influence! But you talked me into it."

"Good," he said with a triumphant smile as he signaled their waitress.

"Yes, sir?" the waitress said as she approached their table. "How was your meal?"

"Everything was delicious," Mark assured her.

"Would you be interested in dessert this evening?" the waitress wondered.

"Yes, the marjolain, please. With two forks."

"Certainly," the waitress nodded with a smile. "Would you like something to drink with that?"

"I'll just have coffee," he replied. "Elizabeth?"

"A cappuccino, please," she requested.

"I'll have this out for you in a few minutes," the waitress said before turning to leave.

Looking around the dining room, Elizabeth remarked, "It's so quiet and peaceful in here."

"A nice change of pace from the hospital and trying to get to the conference?" he suggested.

"Exactly," she chuckled.

They sat in a companionable silence for several moments. He noticed that her gaze had strayed to small dance floor in the center of the room, and he finally wondered, "Feel up to something a little slower than the tango?"

She turned back to him and smiled, "Why, Dr. Greene, are you asking me to dance?"

He laughed as he stood up and extended his hand. "Dr. Corday, I do believe I am."

"In that case, I accept," she said as she took his hand.

Without another word, he led her onto the dance floor. Taking her in his arms, they slowly began to move in time to the music.

The cab pulled to a stop in front of Elizabeth's apartment building. "Can you wait here for a few minutes? Just keep the meter running," Mark said to the driver.

"I can always keep the meter running," the driver replied with a chuckle.

"Thanks," Mark said, rolling his eyes. Opening the door, he got out and offered his hand to Elizabeth.

"Thank you," she smiled as she took his hand and climbed out of the cab.

"I'll just walk you inside, if you don't mind," he explained.

"No, I don't mind," she assured him.

They entered the building and walked through the lobby until they reached the elevators. "I had a really great time today," she said softly.

"Even though you missed your presentation?" he questioned with a smile.

"Even though I missed my presentation," she confirmed.

"Well, I think I can honestly say this was probably the best conference I've ever attended," he commented.

"I'd agree with that," she laughed. "But, really, thank you for everything. Dinner was wonderful."

"You're welcome. I'm glad you enjoyed it," he said sincerely. "I should be going. I'll see you at work tomorrow."

"Okay," she nodded. "Goodnight, Mark."

"'Night," he replied with a smile before turning to leave.

Watching him walk through the lobby, a slight smile crossed her face. As he left the building, she reached over and pressed the button to call the elevator.

She was still smiling five minutes later as she unlocked the door and entered her apartment. After hanging her coat by the door, she placed her purse and attaché on the table and walked through the living room.

Glancing at the clock as she entered the kitchen, she was surprised to see that it was almost eleven. She honestly couldn't remember looking at her watch since they were locked in the hotel storeroom. After finishing dessert and leaving the restaurant, she'd commented on how beautiful the evening was, prompting him to suggest a walk along the water. Once they'd gotten tired of walking, they hailed a cab. All in all, she had to say the evening went by very quickly.

She filled the tea kettle with water, sat it back on the stove and flipped on the burner. As she waited for the water to boil, she walked into her bedroom and changed clothes. Tying the belt on a silk kimono a few minutes later, she returned to the kitchen and prepared a cup of herbal tea.

She stood by the door leading out to the deck, staring out at the city as her thoughts went back to the events of the day. She was almost surprised at how easy it was to talk to him. They had quite a bit in common, and he was such a gentleman. She had to admit, she had a truly wonderful time. He just seemed to understand her. It had been a very long time since she'd felt anything even remotely close to this. She laughed at herself as she realized she was looking forward to spending more time with him.

A moment later, she sighed softly as that thought was replaced by a new one. If she got the trauma fellowship, she would be spending more time with him. At the hospital. He was an ER attending, and would be one of her supervisors.

She made that mistake once, and she wasn't about to do it again. When she arranged for Peter to be her assigned resident while they were still dating, she didn't really think about the consequences first. In the process, she'd given Romano the upper hand, something he could hold over her whenever it suited his own sinister purposes. There was no way she would make that mistake again. She'd worked too long and too hard to get to where she was in her career. Even if that meant being "just friends" with one of the most delightful men she'd met in quite some time.

"Sometimes life just isn't fair," she muttered to herself as she sipped her tea and continued to watch the skyline.

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October 16, 2000