"Supplies and Demands" 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: This scene begins after "Supplies and Demands."
Feedback is welcome. Please send all questions, comments or criticisms to SixteenOzs02@yahoo.com
RATING: PG
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Rachel's punishment in this story was written before "If I Should Fall From Grace" aired.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: I would like to thank Ros, Cari and Megan for all of their help in looking over the drafts of this story and giving me such great feedback. Thank you all so much!
The sobs had subsided some time earlier, and the night air had turned cooler, but Elizabeth made no effort to move. Mark's arms were wrapped securely around her; his hand occasionally drifted to rub small circles across her back, but always returned to her shoulder, pulling her closer in his embrace. At that moment, she never wanted to move. Being so near to him, she could actually believe that they would get through this, that they could get through anything.
A few moments later, he softly questioned, "Feeling any better?"
Still not moving from his arms, she sniffled, then replied, "Maybe."
"We're going to get through this," he reminded her.
Her only response was a slight, uncertain nod.
A short while later, Elizabeth heard the kitchen door open and she stiffened involuntarily.
"I'm home," Rachel announced.
Elizabeth felt Mark's hand roam across her shoulders as he said, "Rachel, wait for me in your room. I'll be there in a few minutes."
As Elizabeth sat up and watched her step-daughter silently go back into the house, she couldn't help but wonder if the young girl was thinking she'd stand a better chance at getting her way if she could talk to her father when Elizabeth wasn't there. Sighing, Elizabeth tried to push that thought from her mind. She didn't want to think the worst of Rachel, but her recent behavior definitely raised more than a few doubts.
Drawing in a deep breath, Mark gently brushed a lock of hair from Elizabeth's face as he suggested, "Why don't you go upstairs and take a nice warm bath? I'll talk to Rachel."
She considered this for a moment, then nodded as she reluctantly sat up and pulled away from him. "Okay," she agreed quietly. "You'll keep an eye on Ella?"
Chuckling softly, he kissed her forehead. "Of course."
As they stood up, Mark picked up the baby monitor from the table, then slipped his arm around Elizabeth's waist before heading towards the stairs. After entering the house through the kitchen, they crossed through the dining room and stopped at the staircase.
"Are you sure you want to do this on your own?" Elizabeth inquired.
"Yeah," Mark nodded. "If you're there, she'll go on the defensive immediately and nothing will get accomplished. But don't worry, she's not getting out of this one as easily as she did last week when she didn't call."
She managed a feeble smile. "When you come up, could you check the bathroom, just to make sure I haven't fallen asleep in the tub?"
"You got it," he promised with a soft laugh as he briefly brushed his lips against hers.
Mark waited until Elizabeth reached the top of the stairs before walking short distance to Rachel's room and opening the door.
Suddenly looking up from the magazine she was reading, Rachel was about to protest that Mark didn't knock first, but seeing the expression on his face, she remained silent.
"Why don't you come out to the living room?" he suggested, even though his tone clearly indicated her compliance was not optional.
Getting off the bed, Rachel followed her father into the living room and sat on the sofa, folding her legs beneath her. She watched hesitantly as Mark sat in the chair across from her.
A long moment passed before he asked, "So, what were you and Lynn talking about that was so important you neglected your sister?"
Immediately jumping to her feet, Rachel threw her hands in the air. "I should have known you'd take HER side. You didn't even ask me what happened!"
"Rachel, sit down," he ordered, his voice firm.
With a huff, Rachel reluctantly complied.
Mark drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly before saying, "Okay. Tell me your side of the story."
Rachel didn't say anything immediately. She hadn't considered that he actually might be willing to listen to her. "Look, Dad. It wasn't like I was neglecting Ella. I checked on her just before Lynn called. She was still asleep. Then Lynn called, and she really needed to talk to me. She was out late last night because Mike broke up with her so he could start dating Angela. Now, Lynn's mom is being completely unreasonable about it and grounding her for a month! I was trying to calm Lynn down because, especially since Mike was spreading all these rumors about her today at school. I just didn't hear Ella crying."
Mark sighed. "How long were you on the phone with Lynn?"
"I don't know. It's not like I looked at the clock," Rachel retorted sarcastically.
Overlooking the tone of her voice, he remarked, "That still doesn't explain why you had to have the music loud enough to wake the dead."
"It helps me think," Rachel argued. "I was trying to help Lynn figure out a way to deal with everything. Besides, Elizabeth told me she had to page you when she went into labor because you couldn't hear her over your music."
"That was different," Mark countered immediately. "Even though I couldn't hear Elizabeth, she could still page me or come down to the basement. Ella was hungry, and she had no way of letting you know except to cry."
"But it's not like anything happened to her," Rachel tried to maintained. "She's fine."
"Rachel, that's not the point," he reminded her firmly. "The point is that you told me you would watch Ella after Catherine left, and you didn't. Elizabeth got home at six-fifteen. That was only an hour and fifteen minutes."
Getting frustrated, Rachel sneered, "Well, it's not like she's my kid anyway. I don't know why I have to be the one looking after her in the first place."
"Rachel!" Mark warned, his patience clearly beginning to wear thin. "Elizabeth and I both realize that Ella is not your child, and you're not responsible for carrying for her all the time. But you are a member of this family, which means there are times when we're going to need you to pitch in and help out. When you told me you wanted to move to Chicago, you said part of that was because you had a baby sister who didn't even know you. Well, Ella's certainly not getting to know you when she's upstairs screaming and you're in your room, on the phone with the radio blaring."
As she realized she was fighting a losing battle, Rachel surly said, "Fine! It won't happen again," then stood and walked back to her room.
"Not so fast. Come back here and sit down. We're not done yet."
"What now?" she demanded in annoyance.
"Punishment," he answered simply as he folded his arms across his chest. "Any suggestions as to what you think would be fair?"
She considered this for several moments, trying to come up with something that was fair, but at the same time wasn't completely unreasonable. Finally, she offered, "A week without my stereo?"
Mark nodded thoughtfully. "That's a good start."
"What?" she exclaimed incredulously. He couldn't be serious about adding anything else.
"No stereo and no cell phone for a week. Also, for the next week, Elizabeth or I will take you to school every morning and you will come home immediately after school. Catherine will be here, so you will not have to look after Ella. If Catherine needs to leave early, Elizabeth or I will juggle our schedules to be here. And, Rachel, after school gets out, we will be calling from the hospital to make sure you're here. If you're not, this lasts a month," he said firmly, his eyes locked on hers.
"But, Dad! That's... that's ridiculous!" she tried to argue. "That's worse than what Mom would do."
He drew in a deep breath. Ever since Rachel had moved in with them, he'd tried to avoid being as harsh as Jennifer, but it was becoming painfully obvious that Rachel needed structure and discipline in her life, whether she liked it or not. Deliberately, he explained, "Rachel, if you don't want to be grounded, then you need to start acting responsibly. That means if you're going to be late, you call us. If you tell us you're going to watch your sister, you do that; you don't stay in your room, on the phone with the radio so loud that you can't even hear her."
"Okay," she agreed reluctantly. "But, Dad, I am sorry. I didn't hear Ella."
"You can't let it happen again," he reminded her seriously.
"I won't," she promised. "Are we done?"
"Yeah," Mark nodded. As Rachel stood up, he added, "Is there anything you think you should say to Elizabeth?"
Rachel closed her eyes and sighed heavily. Looking back to her father a moment later, she said, "I guess I should apologize to her."
"That'd probably be a good idea," he concurred. "You know, she was pretty worried when you ran out of here and she didn't know where you were going."
"Is she upstairs?"
"She's taking a bath right now. I can let her know you want to talk to her when she's done."
"Okay," Rachel agreed before going into her room.
Calling after her, Mark added, "You can bring your stereo and cell phone in here now."
After Rachel complied with his request, Mark went upstairs. He first checked to make sure that Ella was still asleep, then entered the master bathroom. A smile reflexively spread across his face as he found Elizabeth still in the tub, covered from neck to toe with bubbles, her eyes closed as soft notes of Mozart emanated from the portable CD player on the vanity.
Sitting on the edge of the tub, Mark continued to watch her for a few minutes before leading over and kissing her tenderly.
Her eyes fluttered open a moment later. "Hi."
"Hey. Feeling better?"
"Yeah, I think so," she smiled. "How did it go with Rachel?"
"She's grounded for a week. No stereo, no cell phone, we're taking her to school and she has to be home as soon as school's over," he explained.
"She's not going to be watching Ella, is she?" Elizabeth questioned, a hint of anxiety making its way into her voice.
"No," he assured her. "At least not until she's shown us that she's responsible enough to handle it."
"Do you think you were too harsh on her?" Elizabeth asked curiously.
"After everything I've already let her get away with?" he countered rhetorically. Then, with a sigh, he admitted, "I don't know. I'm just hoping this will show her that she needs to be more responsible, and stop any other problems before they start."
"Hopefully this will work," she offered optimistically as she sank a little deeper into the warm water that surrounded her.
"She wants to see you when you're done with your bath."
Elizabeth drew in a deep breath. The last thing she wanted tonight was another confrontation with Rachel. Hesitantly, she questioned, "For what?"
"To apologize," he explained.
Sighing softly, she admitted, "I should apologize to her, too."
"She was wrong, Elizabeth," he reminded her while brushing a damp tendril from her face.
"I know, but I was upset about work and I took that out on her. I shouldn't have."
Smiling sympathetically, he wondered, "You going to stay in here a little longer?"
A suggestive grin slowly crossed her face. "Care to join me?"
Before he could reply, Ella's cry could be heard from down the hall. Chuckling softly, he wondered, "Rain check?"
"I'm going to hold you to that," she smiled.
"I'm counting on it," he whispered as his lips found hers.
As he stood and started to leave the bathroom, she said, "I'll be out in a few minutes."
Stopping at the door, he turned back and looked at her. "Take your time."
Elizabeth pulled her favorite gray robe over her pajamas and tied the sash at her waist, as she walked out of the bedroom. A moment later, she stopped at the door to the nursery, where she found Mark softly singing a lullaby to a fussy Ella.
"You might have better luck with the Mozart," she chuckled.
"Is that supposed to be a comment on my singing abilities?"
Trying to look as innocent as she possibly could, she said, "Don't quit your day job."
"Very funny," he retorted sarcastically.
"How is she?"
Mark shifted Ella to his shoulder and began to rub his palm over her back in small circles. "A little cranky, but I think she's slowly starting to wear out."
Laughing, Elizabeth said, "As long as she's ready for bed when we are."
"We'll see what we can do," he promised. "On your way to talk to Rachel?"
"Yeah. I'll let you know how it goes," she nodded before leaving the room and heading down the stairs.
Elizabeth stopped outside the door to Rachel's room and drew in a deep breath before knocking.
"Yeah?"
Opening the door, Elizabeth found Rachel sitting on her bed, thumbing through a magazine. "Your dad told me you wanted to talk to me."
"Yeah," Rachel replied hesitantly as she picked at a loose thread on the blanket.
Realizing that this was difficult for Rachel, Elizabeth smiled softly as she offered, "I was going to make some tea. Would you like something?"
Rachel looked up quickly, almost as if she was surprised by the overture. "Uh, sure."
"Come on," Elizabeth said with a nod as she turned and started towards the kitchen.
Rachel quietly followed her step-mother, then sat down at the island in the kitchen. She watched while Elizabeth filled the kettle with water, then sat it back on the stove before flipping on the burner.
Retrieving two mugs from the cabinet, Elizabeth inquired, "Tea? Hot chocolate?"
"Do you have chamomile?"
"As a matter of fact, I think we do," Elizabeth replied as she began searching the cabinet for tea bags.
Rachel spent the next minute or two absently folding and refolding a dish towel before she tentatively said, "Elizabeth? I'm, uh... I'm sorry about earlier, about not hearing Ella and for the... the, uh, things I said to you."
Elizabeth stopped and turned around. "Rachel, I accept your apology, but if you ever watch Ella again, this can't happen."
"I know," Rachel admitted quietly.
"Just because you're babysitting doesn't mean you can't have a life," Elizabeth pointed out carefully. "You can even talk with your friends on the phone, but you have to keep the baby monitor with you so you can hear her. That also means you can't have the stereo on to drown out her cries."
"I know," Rachel repeated, her voice taking on a defensive edge.
Elizabeth allowed a moment or two to pass, hoping to bring Rachel off the defensive, before she admitted, "I need to apologize myself. I had a bad day at the hospital. I took that out on you, and I shouldn't have."
An incredulous look passed over her face before she finally said, "It's okay."
The shrill whistle of the kettle broke the ensuing silence. After pouring them each a cup of tea, Elizabeth walked around to the opposite side of the island and sat down on the stool next to Rachel.
They each slowly sipped their tea in silence until Elizabeth remarked, "Shortly after my parents divorced, they sent me to boarding school. Even when I came home to stay with my mother on breaks, she worked a lot. For a long time, I was upset with her for that. I suppose I thought she didn't love me because she'd rather work than spend time with me. In a way, maybe I still do."
Rachel was taken aback as she watched her step-mother. Why was she telling her this? Unsure of how she should respond, Rachel finally just asked, "Where did she work?"
"She's an astrophysics lecturer."
A confused expression passed over Rachel's face. "Lecturer?"
Elizabeth laughed softly, realizing she'd used the British term that Rachel didn't recognize. "It's like a college professor."
"Oh, okay," Rachel nodded thoughtfully.
"She spent a lot of time at the planetarium and in the library doing research; then going to dinners trying to secure funding for her work. That didn't leave a lot of time for mother-daughter bonding," Elizabeth explained dolefully as she ran her index finger along the rim of her mug. After a moment or two, she added, "I was thinking about that earlier while I was in the bath."
Rachel drew in a deep breath, then guiltily wondered, "Because I said if you were worried about Ella, you'd stay home with her?"
"Yeah," Elizabeth agreed softly. "I think about that a lot. When I'm at work, I worry about Ella. When I'm here, I worry about work."
"Why don't you just stay home with her?" Rachel inquired, as that appeared to be the easiest solution. "I mean, Dad makes enough, doesn't he? You could afford it."
"We could," Elizabeth conceded as she sipped her tea, "and we talked about it. But even though it can be difficult, I love my job and I'm not ready to give that up."
"So that means more to you than Ella," Rachel concluded quietly as she stared at a spot on the counter.
Shaking her head, Elizabeth firmly replied, "No. I love Ella, more than I ever thought possible. But at the same time, my career is a very big part of who I am. I've worked hard for over fifteen years to get where I am today, and I don't want to lose that. There is a part of me that would love to do nothing more but stay here with Ella. Then there's another part that realizes she's not exactly the greatest conversationalist. I'd go crazy here all day by myself. I need the challenges of work." She stopped and drew in a deep breath. "I don't know. Maybe I'm wrong and maybe I'm just telling myself this so I'll feel better; but I do think that if I'm happy with what I'm doing, that'll be better for Ella in the long run."
"Maybe," Rachel said skeptically.
Elizabeth watched Rachel for several moments before carefully asking, "Were you upset that your mom was working a lot in Saint Louis?"
With a shrug, Rachel answered, "I dunno."
Elizabeth allowed the question to hang in the air, hopefully giving Rachel time to think and decide talking about it might not be such a bad idea.
"It's... it's just that after we moved to Saint Louis, she was always working," Rachel explained after some hesitation. "I'd see her in the kitchen of a morning as she was grabbing a cup of coffee, then she'd stick her head in my room for a second when she got home that night. She never had time to talk to me. Just like with my period. I learned more from you, my friends and magazines than I did from her."
Elizabeth sighed as she realized Rachel wasn't quite as tough as she wanted everyone to think she was. Smiling softly, Elizabeth had to admit that Rachel reminded her of herself in that respect. "Did you ever talk to your mom, to let her know you'd like to spend a little more time with her?"
"Yeah, right," Rachel huffed. "Your mom worked. Did you ever talk to her about it?"
"No," Elizabeth admitted while shaking her head. After a moment, she added, "I'm not sure, but I think one reason your mom may not have been there as much for you is that she didn't think you needed her. You're smart, you're growing up and you're becoming more independent everyday. Maybe she doesn't think you want her around as much."
Rachel contemplated this as they each drank their tea in silence. "Well, I don't want her around all the time. But I guess there are times when it'd be nice if I could just talk to her."
"Why don't you start this weekend?" Elizabeth suggested optimistically. Off Rachel's confused look, she elaborated, "You could give her a call Saturday or Sunday, when she wouldn't be as busy with work, and just talk or let her know some of the things you're feeling. It might not be that easy, but it'll be better if you do it now, than if you wait twenty-five years like I did."
"Yeah, maybe I will," Rachel agreed quietly.
"Even though your dad and I are busy with work and Ella, we'll always make time for you if you need us. You know that, don't you?"
Rachel smiled. "Yeah. Thanks."
"You're welcome," Elizabeth replied while trying to stifle a yawn. "Mmm... I think I'd better get to bed."
"Me, too," Rachel said as she stood up and started for her room. "'Night."
"Goodnight," Elizabeth called after her. With a weary sigh, she stood and placed both mugs in the dishwasher before making sure the doors were locked and turning off the lights.
A minute or two later, she smiled as she stopped at the door to the nursery and found Mark napping in the rocking chair, with Ella asleep on his shoulder. Being careful not to disturb either of them, she gently picked up Ella and walked over to the crib. Just as she laid Ella down, the little girl's eyes fluttered open and her face crumpled, a clear indication that a cry was forthcoming. "Shhh," Elizabeth whispered as she lightly rubbed her daughter's chest. "Go back to sleep, Sweetheart. We don't want to wake up Daddy."
Elizabeth was a bit surprised when Ella's face relaxed and she closed her eyes, only the sound of a gentle sigh passing through her tiny lips. With a smile, Elizabeth placed the blanket around her daughter, then folded her arms across her chest and watched as she slept.
"Daddy's already awake," Mark whispered a moment later.
Elizabeth turned in his direction and grinned, "He wasn't a minute ago."
"I was resting my eyes," he contended as he stood and walked over to her, slipping his arms around her waist.
Resting against his chest, Elizabeth chuckled, "Sure you were."
After watching Ella sleep for several minutes, Mark softly wondered, "Ready for bed?"
"Does it mean I'll have forgotten this day ever happened when I wake up tomorrow?" she asked wryly.
"You never know. Anything's possible," he offered optimistically as he kissed her temple.
Elizabeth once again adjusted Ella's blanket before turning off the lamp and taking her husband's hand as they left the room.
"How did things go with Rachel?" Mark inquired as they entered the master bedroom a few moments later.
"Not too bad," Elizabeth replied while turning down the bed. "We both apologized, then talked over tea. We actually have quite a bit in common."
Mark looked confused. "Really? Like what?"
"We were both fairly young when our parents divorced, and our parents are both very career-oriented. That was never a problem with our fathers, but it's something we hold against our mothers," she explained as she took off her robe and placed it across the foot of the bed.
"She's upset because Jen works so much?" Mark questioned in a concerned tone.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Elizabeth thoughtfully said, "I think that's part of it. Another part is that even though she's at that stage where she's becoming more independent, there are still times when she needs her mother. I went through it, so did all of my friends. In a way, we were at an additional disadvantage because our parents had sent us to boarding school, reinforcing the idea that they didn't want to be bothered by us. When Jen said she was tired of being a mother, Rachel probably felt the same way."
Walking over to the bed, Mark sighed heavily as he sat next to his wife. "Any suggestions as to what I should do?"
"I think it's something they probably need to work out on their own. I suggested that Rachel call her mother this weekend, so that they could talk when Jen wasn't so busy. Hopefully that will help."
"So, what do I do in the meantime?" he questioned in frustration.
"Just try to be there for her. She's been through a lot in the last year, and it's going to take a while for her to adjust. But at the same time, she can't use that to excuse her behavior," she carefully pointed out.
"Yeah," he agreed thoughtfully. "Thanks for talking to her."
"You don't have to thank me," she assured him with a gentle smile.
He watched her for a moment, then commented, "You look tired."
"Yeah," she agreed while trying to suppress a yawn.
"I'm going to change and brush my teeth. I won't be long."
"Okay," Elizabeth replied quietly before slipping beneath the comforter.
When Mark came out of the bathroom ten minutes later, he found Elizabeth lying on her side, her back to him. Glancing over her shoulder to see if she was already asleep, he was a bit taken aback to find her cheek streaked with tears. He hesitated a moment, then turned off the lamp and laid down next to her, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her closer to him.
"Thinking about the investigation?" he asked softly.
Her voice was barely above a whisper as she answered, "Yeah."
"We're going to get through this, Elizabeth," he reminded her while lightly brushing her hair back from her face.
Her voice faltered with her reply. "I want to believe that, Mark. I do. It's just..."
"I know," he assured her quietly. "You just have to remember that you haven't done anything wrong. Carmen tried, but she couldn't find anything wrong with your procedures or that you were a carrier. The health department isn't going to find anything either, because there's nothing to find."
"It... it just feels like I'm guilty until proven innocent here. Not to mention the whispers behind my back as I walk down the hall. Right now, I've only noticed it on the surgical floor, but I know it won't be long until it spreads to the rest of the hospital. Did you see the looks Carter and Malik were exchanging when Carmen was in the trauma room today?"
"If anyone has a problem with anything you're doing, just send them to me. I'll take care of them for you," he offered with a smile.
She managed a feeble laugh, which turned into a heavy sigh a moment later. "What did I do to deserve this?"
"Nothing," he replied firmly. "You haven't done anything wrong. All you did was try to help your patients. That's our job."
"I just wish I knew why this was happening," she lamented.
"You'll find out," he promised. "It just may take a little time. But we'll find an explanation for everything. More importantly, you don't have to go through this alone."
Turning slightly to look over her shoulder, she whispered, "Thank you."
"You're welcome," he replied as he lightly brushed his lips against her forehead. "You're awfully tense. You should try to relax and get some rest. You're not going to be any good to anyone - yourself, your patients, your staff or Ella - if you're dead on your feet."
"I actually think I'm getting used to that feeling," she commented wryly. "Besides, relaxing is easier said than done."
"What if I help?" he suggested. Seeing her confused look, he instructed, "Turn over."
Elizabeth complied with his request and shifted so that she was lying on her stomach, with her arms folded beneath the pillow. Kneeling above her, Mark slowly began to massage the tight muscles along her neck and shoulders.
When she winced softly a few moments later, he immediately asked, "Are you okay? Want me to stop?"
Shaking her head slightly, she said, "Don't stop. I'm just really sore, but this feels wonderful."
For the next thirty minutes, Mark kneaded her strained muscles, starting with her neck, then working his way across her shoulders and down her back before finally reaching her legs. When he was done, he smiled as he watched her sleeping peacefully, her read curls spilling around her face and the pillow.
Moving to lay down next to her, he carefully his slipped his left arm under her and drew her closer so that her head now rested on his shoulder. As he brushed back her hair and lightly kissed her forehead, he whispered, "Goodnight, Elizabeth."
I'd love to know what you think. Please seed all comments and feedback to: SixteenOzs02@yahoo.com LLP
January 1, 2002
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