"Last Rites" Gap-Filler
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.

SUMMARY: These scenes take place after "Last Rites."

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

RATING: NC-17 THIS STORY CONTAINS MATERIAL THAT MAY NOT BE SUITABLE FOR READERS UNDER THE AGE OF 17. Please do not continue reading if you are offended by graphic scenes depicting consensual heterosexual intercourse. Otherwise, click here.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: I would like to thank Ros and Cari for all of their help in looking over the drafts of this story and giving me such great feedback. Thank you both so much for all your help!!

A frustrated sigh escaped Elizabeth's lips as she looked around the emergency room for what seemed like the hundredth time in the last ten minutes, but she still didn't see the person for whom she was searching. Finally approaching the admit desk, she inquired, "Randi, do you know where Mark is?"

"No. What do I look like? His mother?" Randi snapped sarcastically. But she stopped as she saw the shocked expression that passed over the doctor's face. Suddenly remembering that Mark had just returned from his mother's funeral in California, the desk clerk apologized, "I'm sorry, Dr. Corday. I forgot about that. I'm not sure where he is. The last I heard, I think he was running a trauma with Carter."

"Thanks," Elizabeth replied absently as she turned and walked away. She'd checked both of the trauma rooms, and they were empty. However, she did remember seeing Carter with a patient in Curtain Three. She waited at the door to the curtain area until the younger doctor finished with his patient and approached her. "Carter, have you seen Mark? Randi said you had a trauma together?"

"Yeah, he was there for Amy Stehly's code, but he stormed out after we lost her. I haven't seen him since," Carter replied.

"He stormed out?" Elizabeth questioned in confusion. "Why? What happened?"

"You haven't heard?"

"Heard about what?"

"About what happened in the trauma room?" When Elizabeth shook her head, he began to explain. "I had this patient, Amy Stehly, end stage melanoma that had metastasized to her liver and brain. Her father brought her in so we could ease her breathing and relieve her pain. She was DNR. We tapped her belly and drained the fluid. While her father was out of the room, she told Dr. Greene she wanted to revoke her DNR, so he intubated. The father got upset, and Weaver basically said she didn't think Dr. Greene was capable of being objective on this. Amy went into v-tach. I wanted to resuscitate, but Weaver wouldn't let me. Amy was in v-fib when Dr. Greene showed up. Things got pretty intense between him and Weaver, but she finally stepped back and he started the resuscitation. We couldn't get her back, so he finally called it, then stormed out."

Elizabeth sighed heavily. "You don't happen to know where he went, do you?"

"No, I'm sorry, I don't," Carter said apologetically.

"Thanks, Carter," Elizabeth said softy before she turned towards the elevator.

After finishing her rounds and submitting the necessary orders for her patients, Elizabeth was finally able to change out of her scrubs and sign out for the day. She left through the ER, hoping to find out that Mark was there, or had at least been back before going home. Unfortunately, no one had seen him since he left earlier. She tried calling his apartment, but only got the answering machine.

Walking through the ambulance bay, she tried to figure out where he might be. Carol had told her that he often played basketball or went to the batting cage when he was upset. He also mentioned that he found a walk along the lake relaxing and a good place to think.

She sighed heavily. He'd been upset when Romano and Weaver took over the hospital the previous week. She couldn't even begin to imagine how he was feeling tonight, trying to deal with the shock of his mother's recent death and Weaver questioning his professionalism. The one thing she knew was that he shouldn't be alone.

She checked the basketball court near the ambulance bay, then walked to the batting cage, and back along the river, but there was no sign of him. Returning to the hospital, she once again checked with the ER, only to learn he hadn't been there either.

Sighing in frustration, she crossed the street and entered Doc Magoo's. After carefully selecting a booth with a view of the ER's entrance, she sat down, ordered a cup of coffee and began to wait.

Ten minutes later, Peter entered the diner. Seeing Elizabeth sitting alone, he approached her booth. "Hey, mind if I join you?"

Elizabeth turned quickly at the sound of his voice, not having seen him enter. "Peter," she said in surprise. She anxiously looked out the window, not wanting Mark to see her with Peter and get the wrong idea. Hesitantly, she turned back to Peter and said, "Uh, sure. Have a seat."

He noticed her uncertainty, but let it pass. Sitting down, he groaned, "Romano's being a real prick about this fellowship. The deal with the trauma fellowship was that I'd be able to follow my patients through the OR."

As she stared out the window, Elizabeth said, "I talked to him about that. From now on, you can operate on trauma patients, but no elective cases or general surgery."

"Really?" Peter questioned suspiciously. "He agreed to that?"

"Oh, you know how Robert is. He jerks you around, amuses himself, gets tired of it, then moves on to his next victim," Elizabeth remarked dryly.

"I guess," Peter agreed. "So, are you going to take the spot as Associate Chief?"

"Yes," she replied, hoping the doubts she was feeling about working for Romano didn't come through in her voice.

"Congratulations."

"Thank you," she said absently as she continued to look out the window.

Finally noticing that Elizabeth had seemed distracted since he first sat down, Peter inquired. "Are you waiting for someone?"

"I hope so," she answered with a sigh.

"What do you mean?"

After hesitating several moments, she admitted, "I was sort of hoping Mark would show up."

"Mark Greene?" he questioned in shock.

"Yes," she confirmed. "We've been spending time together the last few months. He just got back from his mother's funeral in San Diego, and I heard he lost a patient today. I'm worried about him, and I was just waiting in case he came back to the hospital so we could talk."

Peter shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I'll let you go. I hope he shows up."

"Thanks," Elizabeth nodded as Peter stood to leave. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"See ya."

Elizabeth finished her coffee, and signaled the waitress for a refill. Propping her chin on her palm, she sighed heavily as she stared out the window. What was she doing here? The chances of him actually coming back to the hospital were probably slim to none. She'd be better off camping outside the door of his apartment.

She did a double-take a moment later when she saw the familiar lanky form leaving the ER. Jumping out of her seat, she made her way through the crowded diner towards the door.

"Ma'am, you haven't paid for that!" the waitress called after her.

Over her shoulder, Elizabeth replied, "I'll be right back. I just need to talk to someone."

"Mark!" Elizabeth called as she jogged the short distance towards him.

He stopped and turned in her direction, but didn't say anything, his jaw clenched tightly.

"Mark, how are you? Carter told me what happened with your patient. Are you okay?" she asked in a concerned tone.

"I'm just going home," he shrugged.

"Why don't you come back into Doc's with me? We can have dinner," she offered.

He stared at her incredulously for a moment, then sarcastically snapped, "I wouldn't want to keep you from your date."

"What are you talking about?" she asked, genuinely confused.

"I saw you and Peter at Doc's!" he spat.

She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. She was afraid this would happen. Looking back to him, she tried to explain. "I was waiting for YOU, Mark! I was sitting alone, Peter stopped by, we talked for a few minutes, and then he left. Peter and I are over. You know that!"

From the look on her face, he knew she was telling the truth. And he felt like a fool. Sighing heavily, he said, "Elizabeth, I'm sorry. I just thought..."

"I know what you thought," she confirmed, a trace of sadness and disappointment in her voice. "But I was telling you the truth when I said that things are over with Peter. We both realized we're much better as friends."

"I know," he admitted. "I-I'm just having a really lousy day. I think I'm just going to go home, collapse into bed and try to forget that it ever happened."

"You need to eat," she reminded him. "Come back into Doc's with me. We can order dinner and talk."

He laughed warily. "This is the second time we've talked today. At the rate we're going, I'm not sure we should try for a third."

She smiles guiltily, then offered, "I'll try not to overreact to anything, if you won't either."

A reluctant smile made its way across his face. "Okay. You talked me into it."

After walking back to Doc Magoo's, they placed their orders and waited for the waitress to bring them each a fresh cup of coffee. Toying with his fork, Mark hesitantly said, "I'm sorry about what happened this afternoon in the trauma room. I didn't mean to suggest that you weren't qualified to be Associate Chief of Surgery."

"I know."

"I think you are more than qualified for the job. In fact, you should be Chief," he pointed out firmly. "It's-it's just that I've seen what Romano's capable of doing to people who get in his way. I don't like the idea of you working with him, because I don't want to see you get hurt."

She smiled softly. "That's very sweet, Mark, but I've been working for Romano for the last two years. I've learned how to take care of myself around him. I don't trust him, and I'll constantly be watching my back, but I've been working for something like this my entire career. Rush offered me a position as a staff surgeon, and that was the best offer I had until today. I just can't turn this down, even if it means working with Romano."

"It is a great opportunity," he conceded. "You deserve that. And I honestly hope it works out, for your sake."

"Thank you," she whispered.

The waitress returned with their orders, and they ate in silence for a few moments, until she spoke. "I heard you had a pretty rough case today."

"Amy Stehly? Yeah," he replied quietly as he took a sip of his coffee.

"Want to talk about it?" she inquired carefully.

"What's to say?" he shrugged. "End stage melanoma that had metastasized throughout her body. She told me she didn't want to die today, so I intubated. Her father had power of attorney and a DNR, so he wasn't too happy. She coded, we tried resuscitation, but it didn't work."

She studied him for a moment or two, trying to gauge his mood, not wanting to upset him, by saying the wrong thing. Tentatively, she commented, "That couldn't have been easy on you, losing a patient so soon after your mother's death."

A silence seemed to settle over their table as he aimlessly pushed a French fry through the ketchup on his plate. Still not looking across the table to Elizabeth, he admitted, "When she looked at me and said, 'I don't want to die today,' all I could think about was Mom, and how I didn't do a damn thing to save her."

"Mark, there was nothing you COULD do for your mother," she pointed out gently.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" he countered with an edge in his voice.

"No," she replied honestly. "It's just supposed to remind you that you're human. No matter how good you are as a doctor, there's no way you can save everyone."

"I know, but what good is it if you can't even do anything for the people who mean the most to you?" he wondered rhetorically.

She offered a sympathetic smile before taking a sip from her coffee cup. After a few moments, Elizabeth wondered, "Is that why you were so determined to save this girl today? Because you couldn't do anything for you mother?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "Maybe. But I know that when I looked in Amy Stehly's eyes today, she knew exactly what she was saying when she told me she didn't want to die. I don't care if she did have mets all over her brain, she wanted to revoke her DNR."

"Then you did the right thing," she concluded simply.

"Tell that to Weaver," Mark huffed before biting into his hamburger.

Even though she already had a pretty good idea of what happened, Elizabeth wondered, "What did she say?"

"That her mental status was altered, that she had mets all over her brain, that she had a DNR and her father had power of attorney."

"And what do you think?" she prompted as she took a bite of her chicken salad sandwich.

He thought about that for several moments. "I think she was clear, conscious and alert when I talked to her. I think she knew what she was asking me to do."

"Kerry was wrong to question your judgment," Elizabeth concluded. "Where a DNR is concerned, if there is ANY doubt, you don't enforce it. Everyone knows that. It's better to ignore a DNR and have a patient alive and upset, than to stand by the DNR and watch a patient die when that's not what they want."

While they finished dinner, Elizabeth caught Mark up on the events of the hospital over the last week. Once the waitress cleared their plates, Elizabeth said, "I don't know about you, but I could go for a drink right now. And since I still owe you a Manhattan, would you like to come back to my place?"

"I'd like that," he said with a somewhat forlorn smile as he remembered the last night they went back to her apartment for drinks. He left after learning of his mother's death.

As Elizabeth unlocked her door, she wondered, "Manhattans okay? Or would you rather have something else?"

"That's fine," Mark replied as he followed her into the apartment.

Placing her purse near the door, she said, "Have a seat. I'll get the drinks."

"Thanks," he replied as he walked into the living room and collapsed on the sofa, resting his head against the cushions and closing his eyes.

Elizabeth walked to the small bar and began to mix the drinks. She hesitated for several moments before she said, "Mark, you know that things are over between Peter and me, don't you?"

Opening his eyes, he sat up and turned so that he was facing her. "I know," he assured her softly. He sighed, then admitted, "I don't know why I jumped to that conclusion tonight. I trust you, Elizabeth. I do."

She nodded slightly. It wasn't that she didn't believe him, but she was hurt that he jumped to that conclusion so quickly.

After a few moments, he admitted, "Maybe it's just that Jennifer was having an affair for over a year, and I never saw it. I still remember the way it hurt when I found out. I never want to feel that way again." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. This wasn't exactly something he was comfortable talking about.

Carrying their drinks to the sofa, she placed the glasses on the table, then sat down. "Mark, look at me," she said firmly. After he turned to face her, she continued, "Peter and I are over, and we have been for quite some time. To be honest, I don't know where things are going between you and me, but I do want to find out, and that means I'm not willing to jeopardize what we have. Mark, I would never hurt you like that."

He had to smile as he whispered, "I know. And I don't know where this is going either, but I feel wonderful whenever I'm with you. I don't want that to end."

Elizabeth picked up her glass and took a sip as she moved a bit closer to Mark. Looking back, perhaps she shouldn't have been so surprised that he jumped to the wrong conclusion after seeing her with Peter. He had just returned from his mother's funeral, and Weaver had questioned his professional judgment. He was hardly in a mindset to be rational.

Looking from the corner of her eye, she studied him for a few moments as he once again rested his head on the back of the sofa and closed his eyes. While she hadn't commented on it, she certainly had noticed his earlier attempt to change the subject when she asked how he was handling his mother's death. Hoping that he simply hadn't wanted to talk about it in the middle of the trauma room, she decided to broach the subject again. Somewhat hesitantly, she commented, "You never really said much about how things were in San Diego."

He opened his eyes and turned so that he could see her. Smiling with a rueful sadness, he countered, "What's there to say?" A heavy sigh escaped his lips before he admitted, "It was surreal, like this dream that I just wanted to wake up from."

She nodded sympathetically before asking, "You and your mother were close?"

"Pretty close, I guess," he shrugged. "I was definitely closer to her than Dad."

"Because you didn't go into the Navy?"

"Among other things," he replied, his voice tight, clearly indicating that he didn't want to discuss those "things." He took a sip of his drink to cover the silence that feel between them.

She knew he needed to talk about his mother's death, but she didn't want to push too hard. Changing the subject slightly, she wondered, "How's your father doing?"

"I don't know," he sighed. A few moments later, he added, "I keep thinking about once when I went to visit them. I guess it was early last year. I was in the kitchen as Mom was fixing dinner. Earlier, I'd been snooping in the medicine cabinet and found that Mom was on meds for her blood pressure, so I pointed out that she shouldn't be adding salt to dinner. She said Dad liked it, so I countered by saying Dad would live a lot longer without salt than he would without her."

"You couldn't have prevented your mother's death, Mark," she reminded him gently.

"I know," he nodded hesitantly. "But... I suppose I just thought Dad would go first. I think he thought so, too."

"Mark, is there anything I can do?" she asked, genuinely concerned.

"No," he said as he shook his head. "It's just going to take some time, but I'll be okay. I actually think talking about it helped. Thank you."

"You're welcome," she whispered. "I'm always here if you need to talk."

"Thanks," he said with what was probably the first genuine smile she'd seen from him all night. Checking his watch few minutes later, he saw that it was after Midnight. "It's getting late. I should probably go."

She didn't reply immediately as she watched him stand and stretch. He stopped and turned back, as if he was waiting for her to walk him to the door. Finally, she questioned, "Do you have to?"

"Have to what?" he asked in confusion. "Go home?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "Why don't you stay here tonight?"

He looked at her questioningly, not completely sure he was understanding her correctly.

Without a word, she stood and walked closer to him. Standing inches from him, she reached out and fingered one of the buttons on his shirt. She looked up a moment later and softly wondered, "So, can I convince you to stay?"

"I think you already have," he whispered while slipping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer until their lips met in a slow, sensual kiss.

As they parted, Elizabeth smiled and admitted, "I've been thinking about this since that night at Navy Pier."

"Really?" he asked curiously.

"Yeah," she nodded. Then with a grin, she added, "That was quite a kiss."

"It was," he agreed with a chuckle before initiating another. His lips brushed against hers, then over her chin and down to her neck, where he began to tenderly kiss the spot below her ear.

"Ohh, Mark," she murmured as she reached around his waist and began to pull the shirt from his pants.

"Elizabeth, wait," he said after a moment as he pulled back slightly.

That was the last thing she wanted to hear. Looking to him questioningly, she wondered, "What?"

"I don't have a condom with me," he admitted somewhat hesitantly.

Grinning, she assured him, "That's okay. I do."

"Oh, you do, huh?" he grinned back.

"Come on," she whispered as she took his hand and led him through the apartment towards her bedroom. After they were standing next to the bed, she turned back to Mark and wondered, "Now, where were we?"

"Right here?" he questioned as he once again began to kiss her neck.

She murmured appreciatively, then agreed, "Oh, yeah, that's it."

Between kisses, he chuckled softly and asked, "You like this?"

Her eyes met his, and she countered, "What do you think?"

"I think I'll take that as a yes," he said, his breath brushing against her cheek.

"That's a safe bet," she assured him before briefly brushing her lips against his. She kissed his neck as her fingers began to work their way through the buttons on his shirt. Moving down his chest, her lips replaced her fingers, placing a trail of hot, most kisses where each of the buttons had rested.

Mark murmured favorably as he gently caressed her neck, then reached behind her head and released the clip that held her hair.

Her hands glided effortlessly over his torso and across his chest before pushing the shirt to the floor. She looked into his eyes and found a longing and desire that matched her own. As the thought crossed her mind, she was almost surprised to realize that she had no doubts about what they were about to do. Even thought they'd only been together a few months, she trusted him in a way she wasn't sure she'd ever trusted another man in her life.

A smile crossed his face and spread to his eyes as he caressed her cheek, then slowly and passionately pressed his lips to hers. She returned the kiss with equal fervor, lightly running her tongue over his lips, which he parted, allowing her entrance to his mouth. Their tongues engaged in an ardent dance, probing, tasting and exploring each other.

His hands roamed across her back before reaching her waist. Gently tugging on the black top she was wearing, he freed it from the waistband of her skirt. Their lips parted and she lifted her arms, allowing him to pull the shirt over her head. Shaking her head lightly, her fiery curls fell loosely around her face.

His eyes never left hers as he cupped her breasts through the black lace of her bra. As his hands fell to her waist, he reached behind her back and found the button on her skirt before slowly lowering the zipper. He pushed the fabric over her hips and to the floor, his gaze still focused on her emerald eyes. "You are so beautiful," he whispered softly, yet earnestly.

The only response she gave was a gently smile while she stepped out of her clogs and skirt, then reached for his pants. Her fingers deftly unbuckled his belt, then his pants. Slipping her hands inside the waistband, she lightly brushed against his backside as she urged the pants downward, over his hips.

He kicked off his shoes and pants, then stepped behind her, encircling her waist with his arms. She murmured appreciatively as he lightly kissed the top of her shoulder. His hands slid over her silken skin until he reached the straps of her bra and pushed them off her shoulders. She shivered in anticipation as he trailed a finger down her spine before slowly unhooking her bra. Turning slightly, her eyes met his and she slowly pulled her arms through the straps before casually tossing the garment to the floor

Elizabeth leaned back against his body and could feel the beginnings of his erection. Wrapping her arm around the back of his neck, she gently pulled him closer until their lips met. He ran his hands over her stomach, then moved to cup her breasts, her nipples becoming firm and erect beneath his touch.

"Oh, Mark," she breathed, loving the feel of his touch against her skin, wanting him even closer. Turning in his arms, she deliberately rubbed her body against his. He groaned pleasurably, and she couldn't help but smile as she saw the effect she was having on him. Briefly pulling away from him, she stretched out on the bed, then softly whispered, "Come here."

He placed his glasses on the nightstand, then climbed onto the bed next to her, allowing his hand to come to rest on her knee before slowly caressing her thigh. Wrapping her hand behind his neck, she pulled him closer until his lips were pressed against hers. She moaned softly through the kiss, savoring his taste and his touch, but still craving more.

He lightly kissed her chin, then her throat and her collarbone before finally stopping at the delicate skin between her breasts. Her eyes met his and she smiled while drawing in a deep breath, eagerly anticipating his next move. He returned her smile as he moved his hand to cup her right breast, and his eyes never left hers as he slowly licked her left nipple.

A wave of pleasure was sent rushing over her, and she knew it was only a preview of what was yet to come. She reached behind her head until her hand found the pillow, and held it tightly in her grasp as he continued his slow, deliberate enticement.

His free hand slipped beneath her black lace panties and pushed them over her hips. She chuckled softly as she urged the panties down her legs, then kicked them off the foot of the bed.

Not knowing how much longer she could wait, Elizabeth turned over and pushed him down on the opposite side of the bed. As her body pressed against his, she grinned, then whispered, "Your turn."

He settled into the pillows and watched as she removed his boxers, then reached into the nightstand drawer and withdrew an unopened box of condoms. Tearing into the package, she removed one and discarded the foil wrapper before slowly rolling it over his erection, evoking a low groan of pleasure from him.

She moved so that she was straddling his legs, and watched him for a moment. The look of desire in his eyes told her that he wanted this just as much as she did. He smiled softly, and reflexively, she found herself smiling back. Her red curls fell gently around her face and her breasts grazed his chest as she lowered her lips to his in what was probably the most intense kiss they'd ever shared. Before the kiss ended, she lifted his hips, then slowly began to lower her body to his. Reaching out, his hands slid over her thighs, then reached her hips to guide her movements.

A low moan passed through her lips as his hardness filled her moist folds, and their bodies gradually melted into one fluid form. Sitting up, he wrapped his arms around her back, pulling her closer, while his tongue continued to explore the conformation of her mouth. Her fingers dug into his shoulders, kneading his tense muscles.

Her head rolled back on her shoulders and her back arched, pushing her body still closer to his, as he began to kiss the spot below her ear, already having learned how much she enjoyed that. Moving lower, his lips descended on her nipple, slowly drawing it into his mouth; first devouring one, then the other.

She stiffened as his touch pulsed through her like an electric current, yet her body continued to move fluidly with his. As her rhythm matched his, he looked up and watched her, taking in the damp ringlets that clung to the side of her face, the way her eyes were closed and her lips parted slightly.

Seeing the desire in her every feature, he rolled over, capturing her beneath him. His strokes gained momentum as they both felt their climaxes beginning to build. She wrapped herself around him, drawing him closer and pressing her body into his. With one final, smooth stroke, he pushed them both over the edge, and the room echoed with their pleasurable cries.

After discarding the condom in the wastebasket, he collapsed on his back next to her, their arms gently touching. Exhaling slowly, a smile spread over Elizabeth's face as she murmured, "Mark?"

"Yeah?"

"We've been seeing each other for about four months, right?"

He thought for a moment, then confirmed, "Yeah."

"So, tell me something."

"What?" he asked curiously.

Grinning, she wondered, "Why did we wait so long to do this?"

"I don't know," he admitted with a laugh.

Smiling as she turned on her side to face him, she commented, "As long as we don't wait so long until the next time."

"I don't think that'll be a problem," he assured her while gently caressing her cheek.

She sighed contentedly, then closed her eyes. A few moments later, she chuckled softly as she wondered, "It would probably look bad if we both called in sick tomorrow, wouldn't it?"

Laughing, he replied, "Considering it's your first full day as Associate Chief of Surgery, and I was just off for a week, I'd say so."

Opening her eyes and looking back to him, she inquired, "What about this weekend? Are you working?"

"I'm working Saturday, then off Sunday and Monday. How about you?"

"Off Saturday and Sunday," she replied. "Why don't you come here after your shift Saturday night, I'll make dinner, then you're mine until Monday morning."

"I like the sound of that."

"Good," she said while trying to stifle a yawn.

"Tired?" he inquired.

Looking over her shoulder, she glanced at the clock on the nightstand. "Well, it is almost one in the morning," she laughed as she turned back to him.

Moving his arm and inviting her to move closer to him, he softly said, "Come here."

She nestled next to him, her head resting on his shoulder, his arm wrapped protectively around her back. "Goodnight, Mark," she whispered.

"Goodnight," he replied while lightly kissing her forehead.

Elizabeth awoke slowly the next morning. She was lying on her side, facing the edge of the bed. A smile made its way across her face as she felt the arm wrapped securely around her waist and the body pressed against her back. She was honestly a bit surprised to find herself waking up in his arms. Normally, she preferred to have space to move around as she slept. But something about this just felt right.

Thinking about it, she realized that at least part of her surprised stemmed from the fact that during her entire relationship with Peter, she could probably count the number of times he was there in the morning on one hand.

She carefully turned over in Mark's arms, so that she could watch him as he slept. He looked so relaxed, so peaceful. The last week had been more than difficult for him, she knew that. She couldn't even begin to imagine what it would be like to lose one of her parents, and it was obvious that his mother's death was taking its toll. But he carried all of that inside, leaving her only to wait and hope that one day he'd feel comfortable sharing it with her.

Reaching out, she gently stroked his cheek with the back of her hand. She didn't know where their relationship was headed, and she almost didn't want to think about that, fearing that too much thought would cause things to end before they ever really had a chance to begin. Smiling softly, she pushed those thoughts out of her mind, firmly deciding simply to enjoy what they shared at that moment.

Mark's eyes opened slowly and smiled as they met hers. "Hey."

"Hi," she whispered. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"What time is it?" he mumbled sleepily.

"A little after six."

"I'm not on until nine. How about you?"

"Same," she confirmed. Knowing he hadn't gotten enough rest while he was in California, she snuggled closer to him and suggested, "Let's go back to sleep."

"Sounds good," he murmured before sleep took over once again.

Elizabeth awoke again about forty-five minutes later. Not wanting to wake Mark again, she carefully slipped out of bed, picked up his shirt and pulled it on as she walked towards the kitchen. After starting a fresh pot of coffee, she went to the refrigerator and began to gather everything she would need to make omelets.

As Elizabeth was about to pour the eggs into the skillet, Mark leaned against the doorway leading into the kitchen and watched her work. After a few moments, he commented, "You know, if I'm going to go home and take a shower before work, I'll need my shirt back."

At the sound of his voice, Elizabeth turned and found him standing there in his boxers with a huge grin on his face. Coyly, she looked down at the shirt, then looked back to him. "You want your shirt back?"

"It'd be kind of nice," he confirmed.

"So come and get it," she replied with a suggestive grin.

Heeding her request, he crossed the room until he was standing in front of her. He slipped his arms around her waist and kissed her gently before whispering, "Good morning."

"Good morning."

"I think we forgot to do that earlier," he chuckled.

"Better late than never," she smiled. After a moment, she wondered, "You're going home before work?"

Laughing, he replied, "Well, I think it might look a little suspicious if I wore the same thing to work again today."

"You could always take a shower here," she grinned.

"Does that mean you'll join me?"

She turned her attention back to the stove to check on the omelets, then glanced over her shoulder to give him a knowing look. "What do you think?"

Thank you for reading. I'd love to know what you think. Please send all questions, comments or criticisms to SixteenOzs02@yahoo.com LLP

July 15, 2001

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