Sharp Relief

The show ER and all characters and situations borrowed from it are property of Constant-C, NBC, Warner Bros., etc. This fanfiction is for entertainment only and no profit is derived from it.

Warning: This story contains language and consensual, heterosexual sex scenes which may be offensive to some and are inappropriate for those under 18.

[**Author’s Note: Please be aware that this fanfic stays true to the storyline of “Sharp Relief” that aired on ER during Season Four. Consequently, this is a very sad story, especially for Doug and Carol fans. Also note that this is Part One and it relates only Doug’s feelings, thoughts and actions.  Part Two will tell Carol's side of the story during the same episode and will be posted whenever I manage to write it<g>, so please trust that I will give Carol her due. Feedback, as always, is welcomed and appreciated.

Tackling this episode was as much of a challenge - or maybe more so - as writing “24 Hours” last year and I couldn’t have done it without the help of my editors, Jordan and Claire. Thanks as always to both of you.]

Sharp Relief, Part One
Prologue
December 1997

by Elizabeth
Eliz1296@aol.com


Doug became aware, slowly, that someone was standing directly over him. It was dark.

He felt a warm touch on his face and then a pair of lips grazed his own.

"Doug."

The kiss again. His lips responded, then he moaned softly and shifted his body slightly toward the warmth.

"I'm going to work now."

"Uhhnnnnn." He reached a hand out of the covers, seeking her, but met only empty air. Disappointed, he opened his eyes and saw that Carol had walked across the bedroom and was picking up her purse and scarf, checking her long braid in the mirror one last time.

She glanced over and smiled at the sight of him in her bed. His hair was tousled and his half-naked body was twisted up in the sheets decadently. Irresistable.

She walked back over to him and smoothed his hair with her fingers.

"You'd better get up soon," she said, speaking quietly. "You're on in two hours."

"Mmmmmm," he agreed, reaching up to capture her wrist. "C'mere." He rolled over onto his back and started to pull her into the bed with him.

But she looked at the clock and then resisted firmly. "Doug, I can't.  I'm already late - Doug."

"Okay, I know," he said sleepily, giving up with a sigh. "Should I pick you up back here after work?" They had planned to do dinner and a movie that night.

"Uh, no. I won't be home by then."

Always so private. She shared herself so slowly, he thought. "You goin' somewhere after your shift?"

"Uh, yeah, I have class."

Class. That meant the dance class at the gym she belonged to. Doug hadn't known until they were practically living together that she exercised three times a week almost religiously.

"Why don't I pick you up at the gym?" Doug asked, rubbing his eyes and then tucking his arms under his head so he could watch her fasten her necklace and put on her earrings. He'd been more than a little curious about her class for some time. "Can you change there? Then we won't have to rush dinner to get to the movie on time. You're going to be too tired to go to a late show."

Carol thought a minute. A few years ago, she never would have invited Doug to the gym. Not with the blatant singles atmosphere and all the skimpy outfits. But now, she thought, it would be okay.

"Sure. Class ends at 5, I'll be ready by 5:30." Carol walked back over
to the bed warily, knowing he would tempt her again if he thought he could break down her resistance, and dropped a kiss on his forehead.

She turned and walked out of the room quickly before he could distract her. She'd been embarrassingly late more than a few mornings recently and had to endure merciless teasing from Randi and Chuny and the rest of her colleagues. It was almost as if they seemed to know she was seeing someone again.

"See you at work," she yelled from the front door as she put on her coat.

"Yep," Doug called out after her. "Be careful on the ice."

Doug listened to the sound of her going out the door and down the porch steps. He worried about her, taking the El so early, while it was still dark out. She just laughed at him. Told him not to worry, she'd done it for years.

Still, he thought. She was his girl, now, and he felt protective. His girl. His girlfriend. It sounded so adolescent, somehow. Doug was starting to think it was time to make their relationship more grown-up.

He'd first thought about marriage shortly after he got home from his trip to California.

Doug Ross trusted his feelings, and with good reason: They were usually right. His hunches about people, about his patients, even life in general nearly always paid off. This hunch of his about getting married wasn't completely foreign to him. He'd always thought, in the back of his mind, that he would get married someday and have a family. But he'd never found the right woman or felt like it was the right time. Now, he knew Carol was the one and the timing seemed good. So when the idea of commitment came to him, he didn't push it out of his mind entirely. He let it simmer in his consciousness for a while.

The ER wasn't terribly busy that day and Doug finished up his shift quickly and arrived at the gym a little early. He looked around and saw a crowd in the lobby gathered in front of a row of glassed-in rooms.

In one of them, a group of little girls in pink leotards was practicing a ballet routine. Next door, a room full of women wearing tennis shoes and T-shirts were working their way through a dance number.

Doug spotted Carol after a moment, near the front of the class, moving swiftly to a loud popular tune that Doug could not name. Her arms were flying and she was lithe and light on her feet, her steps alternately funky and graceful.

She had on a long, white T-shirt, similar to the kind she generally wore to bed, with tight black leggings underneath it. Doug admired her long, shapely legs. She was clearly one of the best students in the class. And with her hair in a ponytail and her slim figure, she looked for all the world like she was half her age.

He grinned, watching her, and eventually caught her eye in the mirror at the front of the room. She grinned back and nodded to acknowledge him, then glanced at the clock, noticing he was early. In the past she probably would never have wanted him here, he realized, figuring he'd be gawking at all the tight-assed 22-year-olds in the place. And she would have been right, he thought wryly.

But this day he only had eyes for her, moving quickly around the floor. She was swinging her hips and acting sexy now, he realized, and hoped it was for his benefit.

"Is your daughter in the baby ballet class?"

Doug glanced up sharply as the voice at his elbow wrenched his thoughts away from Carol. The older woman talking to him was looking into the room next door to where Carol's class was taking place. She indicated the group of little girls dressed in pink ballet slippers and leotards, twirling awkwardly around on the floor.

Doug smiled. Little girls, about three or four, had always been his favorite patients.

"Which one is she?" The woman was talking to him again, pointing in the direction of the tiny tots.

"Oh ... oh, no. My, uh, my ..." There was that word again. He pointed lamely toward the jazz class. "I'm - uh, waiting for that class to finish."

"Oh, yes," the woman said, nodding. "Your wife keeps herself in good shape."

He stammered again for a moment. "Oh, she's not .... uh, that's not, uh, my ... I mean, we're not ..." he looked back at the class again and his voice trailed off.

The instructor was taking a break, changing the tape, and he saw Carol in the corner with her head thrown back. She was sucking hard on a water bottle and then she turned and peeled off her T-shirt to reveal a tight, sleeveless gray bra top and a flat expanse of stomach above her waistband. Her chest was glistening with perspiration, her hair was damp and a couple of stray curls had crept over her face. She looked up at him, breathing hard, and noticed his stare, then grinned wickedly and went back to the middle of the floor.

Doug looked around and realized that the woman who had been talking to him was gone. Just as well. He didn't feel like making small talk right now.

He watched the toddlers for a while, then looked back at Carol's class and saw that the women were lying on their backs, mats underneath them, with their knees bent and their hands under their heads. They were alternating sit ups with a move that the instructor called "pelvic thrusts." Doug watched Carol, working hard, exhaling with exertion, her eyes closed, straining forward with her chest and thrusting her hips up. He felt himself flushing suddenly.

Everything from the positioning to the look on her face was so suggestive to him - something he'd seen her do only in their most intimate moments. Watching her here, looking like this in public, completely unnerved him. He hoped his face wasn't red.

He looked around hastily to see if anyone else was watching. On the other side of the waiting room two young men in shorts and tank tops had just returned from the weight room. They had clearly detoured past the dance class for an eye-full, Doug thought. As he watched them, he saw one of them nudge the other and smile. Then the first guy jerked his head toward the class. Doug followed his gaze and realized that the two of them were leering in Carol's direction.

Doug felt a surge of jealous temper flare up inside him. He didn't like the way they were looking at her, not a bit. Why the hell couldn't Carol just keep her shirt on? How dare they look at her like that?

*She's mine, you bastards,* he thought, *get your dirty minds off her. She belongs to me.*

But then he stopped himself. Did she really? Did she belong to him? No, he had to admit, she didn't. Not in the way he wanted her to belong to him. Not really.

He looked back at the two young guys and suddenly, for the first time in his life, Doug was conscious for a moment of the gray that had crept into his hair in the last couple of years, and the lines that had accumulated around his eyes. He looked at Carol, at how youthful and pretty she was, and he saw how the younger men were looking at her. And Doug didn't like the way it made him feel.

The class broke up after a few more minutes, to applause and the noise of women talking and laughing. He moved toward the door, wanting to greet Carol before one of the guys could make a move in her direction. But Carol was in a crowd of women who had gathered around the instructor, talking excitedly and hugging her. When Doug looked over his shoulder, the two men had disappeared.

Carol stayed talking a few more minutes, then walked toward him smiling. "Hey Doug! Enjoying yourself out here?" She leaned up to kiss him and he started to embrace her.

"Ugh - I'm all sweaty," she said, trying to pull away from him. "I don't want to gross you out."

"No, it's okay. Don't go away," he said, holding her to him. "You look great out there. You're really good. I loved watching you."

"Thanks, Doug!" She looked up at him, eyes shining, and kissed him again. "Hey, guess what? Sherry's pregnant. That's our teacher, Sherry. She says she's gonna keep teaching all the way through the next nine months, but I told her not to push it."

"Yeah, well, that's good advice," he said, smiling at the feel of her in his arms.

Carol smiled back at him and picked up her gym bag. "Can you wait 10 minutes for me to take a quick shower?"

"Sure," Doug said. "I'll be right here."

"I won't be long, I promise."

She walked hastily off in the direction of the locker room and Doug was alone again, looking after her.

"Your wife is lovely. She really looks great. Do you have any children?"

The woman who'd been there before had reappeared. Doug realized the  baby ballet class had also ended. The woman was gathering up her little dancer's sweater and bag.

"Oh, uh, she, I mean, we ... ." Suddenly Doug didn't really want to explain. "Uh, no .... no, we don't have any kids."

"Well, when you do I'm sure they'll be gorgeous. You're both such good-looking people," she said. She took the hand of the little girl still prancing around next to her and started to lead her towards the exit. She turned over her shoulder to give him a little wave. "Have a good day."

Doug nodded and raised his hand in return.

Kids. Once the very thought was enough to send him running as far away as he could, scared to death. But Doug had been thinking about the future recently, about making some plans with Carol. It wasn't something he was in the habit of doing, but lately things were going so well he'd found himself starting to think long-term.

He'd always loved her, he knew that, and he knew - despite all the women he'd been with over the years - that he'd never really loved anyone else. He wanted to be with her always. It amazed him, but he was starting to think that he and Carol should get married.

They'd been together again for a while and they'd been friends so long, he was sure they knew each other better than a lot of couples did. Doug felt like he'd proved himself time and again over the past weeks and  months. But if he didn't take a step to move their relationship forward, he was afraid Carol would never really trust him.

Carol came walking back toward him about 15 minutes later, a big smile on her face as she caught sight of him. She was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved cotton shirt under her sweater. Her hair was loose and still partly wet.

Doug took the gym bag out of her hand and slid his free arm around her waist, pulling her hip next to his own. They went out to his Jeep,  walking companionably in step and talking about where they would go to eat and what movie they should see.

"You looked like you were enjoying yourself in class," Doug commented as he opened the door for Carol and tossed her bag in the back seat. He walked around to his side and got in.

"Yeah, I do. I enjoy it a lot," Carol said, buckling her seatbelt as Doug got behind the steering wheel. Her voice turned quiet: "I started taking the class a few years ago, y'know? My ... my therapist recommended it. Helps with depression."

Doug looked silently at her as he drove out of the parking lot. "Well, you're good at it. You'll have to give me a private performance sometime. You look great in that outfit."

"Oh yeah?" She looked at him, smiling a little. "I wasn't sure you'd notice."

"I noticed.... And so did the gym rats who were watching the show with me in the lobby," Doug said, dryly.

Carol looked over at him quickly, her eyebrows raised and a hint of a smile on her lips. "Gym rats? You mean those buff guys who lift weights all the time?" she asked, then continued, teasingly: "Not jealous, are we Doug?"

"No, I'm not a bit jealous. I just noticed that you had an audience - that's all." He looked over at the big smile on her face and decided to plunge into the subject he really wanted to raise with her.

"So, uh, your teacher - how old is she? Is this her first baby?"

"Ah, yeah, this is her first. She just got married last year. I think she's about my age - or maybe a little younger." Carol was looking out the window.

"Do you ... Carol, do you ever think about ... that? I mean, a family, is that ... is it something you want? Someday, I mean," he added, hastily.

"No." She shut him off quickly. "I mean, yeah I want kids, sure, eventually. I guess I think about it sometimes, but I'm not ready to  start worrying about that yet. I mean, I'm not that old. I've got lots of time."

"Oh, okay. I just thought, I mean - I know we've never talked about anything ... long-term, y'know, but I just thought..." Doug felt awkward, not sure how to finish.

Carol looked at him, curiously. "I think it's too early for us to talk about this, Doug. I mean, we're having fun right now." She put her hand on his leg. "I'm happy with where we are right now. Let's keep it this way. There's no hurry. I mean, I don't want to rush into anything. I ... I want to keep things just like they are," she said.

And then Carol had changed the subject - started talking about work, or the movie they had picked out, what she wanted to eat. Doug didn't even remember.

But it was that day, the sense he'd had of how precious she was to him and how easy it would be to lose her, when the idea of marriage first crystallized in Doug's mind. And like he did whenever he had a good idea, Doug didn't waste a lot of time thinking about it.

His dad had taught him, over craps tables and poker hands in Atlantic City and Vegas, that while you were in the game, you held your cards closely, didn't let on what you were thinking. You put everyone else at ease, joking, nonchalant, distracting your opponents with your charm, making them relax.

But when you got the right card and your gut told you to do something about it, you did it. And not half-way, either. You didn't hold back. You put all your chips on the table.

Ray Ross had never lived his life tentatively. He'd trusted his emotions and his feelings and Doug took after him in that. When he knew in his heart that something was right, he didn't waste time analyzing it. He just went for it.

And Doug knew, this time, that Carol was right for him. It felt right: being with her, staying with her. He sensed that they should be together and that he didn't want to be with anyone else, ever.

So Doug followed his heart and took the risk, betting all his cards on just one night.

The Corner
January 1998
_____________________________________________

I know what you're doing, I see it all too clear
I only taste the saline when I kiss away your tears
You really had me going, wishing on a star
But the black holes that surround you are heavier by far

Duncan Sheik, "Barely Breathing"
_____________________________________________

4:32 p.m.


"Fill out this page, and this one and this section right here. Then sign them all and bring them back to me."

The clerk recited his speech in a weary monotone. It was nearing the end of the day at the Cook County marriage license bureau and his eye was on the clock.

Doug gathered up the papers and the clipboard the man had slapped down on the counter in front of him and walked over to sit on the end of a row of plastic chairs in a big, empty room.

He looked at the clock himself. Half an hour. His nerves had been on edge all day and they were getting worse as the clock ticked on toward 5 p.m.

He sighed and ran his hands through his hair before he started filling out the simple forms: Name, address, telephone number, birthdate, birthplace, citizenship, racial background, parents' names, a brief medical history.

This should all be done before he met Carol. She'd have to add a couple of details, sign the forms and then they'd make a quick stop at home to pick up their suitcases. By that time, the limo would be waiting to take them out to Dundee. Fortunately, the state of Illinois no longer required blood tests in order to obtain marriage licenses. That had certainly helped make matters less complicated.

A side door opened into the waiting room and Doug looked up to the sound of laughter and loud talking. A man and woman, dressed in their Sunday best, emerged holding hands. The woman clutched a bouquet and had a shy smile on her face. They were followed by a large number of people chattering excitedly in Spanish.

The bride and groom shook hands and exchanged hugs with several of their guests and then a couple of the children started to throw rice, showering the couple and the floor of the waiting room, a few grains landing on Doug.

He smiled, thinking in a state of disbelief that he and Carol would be doing the same thing very soon. Thankfully, their surroundings would be a little more desirable than the Cook County Clerk's office.
_____________________________________________

I believed in your confusion
you were so completely torn
Well it must have been that yesterday
was the day that I was born.
____________________________________________

The idea of eloping at the Iron Hedge Lodge had come to Doug in a stroke of genius one morning just a couple weeks earlier. He had tried, repeatedly, to get Carol to talk about setting a wedding date but she had a maddeningly sweet way of putting him off - usually silencing him with kisses and then dragging him off to bed. The same thing happened when he suggested they go look for rings or photographers. He could hardly complain.

Clearly, Carol was uncomfortable with the thought of planning another big wedding. But Doug remembered how excited Carol had been the previous summer, when they'd spent a few days in Dundee at the bed-and-breakfast inn that had been the site of some of their happiest times, years earlier. One morning, on their way to the dining room for coffee and granola, Carol had noticed that the spacious main lodge room was decorated for a wedding. She asked and found out that the ceremony would be held that night in front of the huge stone fireplace.

"What a beautiful place for a wedding," she'd said, smiling approvingly at the innkeepers, a young couple who'd recently purchased the lodge from the elderly proprietor who'd owned it when Doug and Carol had visited before. They had done a lot with it, updating and redecorating extensively, and it looked lovelier than ever.

Doug thought about that: Why not spare Carol the stress of planning a wedding and set up a simple elopement himself? And the Iron Hedge Lodge would be just the place. Doug drove out there the same day he picked out their rings, stopping by Helen Hathaway's house on the way to tell her he intended to marry Carol. Her cold, shocked reaction - she'd barely let him in at first and said next to nothing - wasn't exactly encouraging, but Doug knew Carol was having trouble telling her about them and figured he'd better do it himself.

When he got to Dundee, Doug made all the arrangements with the owner, Eileen, whose taste Carol had admired.

"We can set it up just like the ones we've done before, here in the great room in front of the fireplace," she said, showing Doug where the ceremony would be held.

"It'd be nice if there was a fire," Doug said.

"Sure. And we'll keep the lights down if you like and set up candles all along the mantle here," Eileen gestured, "and put some candelabra back here at the other end of the room. A surprise elopement. It'll be very romantic."

Doug smiled, imagining it. "Do you know, uh, is there someone - a judge or something - who could perform the ceremony?"

"Yes, there's a local justice of the peace who's done a couple of weddings here. I can book him for you, if you like."

"That'd be great. We're going to get the license in Chicago after work, so I thought we'd do the ceremony at one minute after midnight, when the, uh, license becomes valid."

"That'll work. How about flowers? I can order a bouquet and some arrangements for you from our florist. "

"Uh, Carol loves those ..." The word escaped him, but Doug could picture Carol's favorite flowers, waxy white blossoms with dark green leaves and a heady fragrance. "Gardenias," he said finally.

"Oh gosh. Gardenias are going to be hard to find in winter, Doug. And very, very expensive," Eileen said.

"I don't care how much it costs," he said quickly. "It's got to be gardenias. Uh .... a bouquet, I guess, and something for her hair."

He was a bit at a loss to explain what he meant, but Eileen seemed to understand just fine and told him she'd take care of all the details.

Doug went back to his apartment that day and dug a tuxedo out of the back of his closet, thankful to find it still fit him and hadn't gone out of style. He thought Carol would want to wear her long black, backless gown with the short, white velvet jacket trimmed in fake fur that he'd bought her at Christmastime. With her dark hair held back by a ring of creamy white gardenias, Doug thought Carol would look stunning.

He felt joyful every time he imagined her, looking up at him with shining eyes as she recited the traditional promises to him and he said them back to her. As he slipped the diamond-studded wedding band on her finger and let her do the same to him, then bent down to kiss her softly as she wrapped her arms around his neck and held him close.

The noisy exit of the bridal party, filing out through the revolving doors, roused Doug from his thoughts and he glanced quickly up at the clock again. He checked over the papers in his lap and stood up, taking the completed forms back to the clerk's window.

"The bride has to fill out these sections and sign here, sir," the man
intoned.

"Right," Doug said. "I'm going to meet her now. We'll be back in a few minutes."

"We close at 5:30, sharp."

"I know. We'll be back in plenty of time."

Doug turned his collar up and pushed at the still spinning doors that led out of the building and into the bitter cold of downtown Chicago at dusk. He pulled his gloves and hat out of his pockets and put them on, shielding himself as best he could from the icy wind.

Then he turned and started walking the two blocks to the corner of Deerborn and Clark, where he'd asked Carol to meet him at 5. He hoped she'd be there a little early.
_____________________________________________

There's not much to examine, there's nothing left to hide
You really can't be serious if you have to ask me why
I say goodbye...

4:55 p.m.

Doug's eyes were glued to the El platform across the street, waiting for the next train to pull in. Carol would surely be on this one, or one shortly after it. They were running close together this time of day.

He stamped his feet and stuffed his hands in his pockets, shivering. *C'mon Carol, hurry up.* She was a punctual type of person who was usually on time or early.

But Doug was impatient, worried about getting the license on file so they could make it out to Dundee in time to have a leisurely dinner at their favorite restaurant before it was time to meet Mark and get dressed for the ceremony.

Doug was also impatient just to be with Carol. She'd been exhausted lately, working overtime in the clinic, and their shifts had been completely opposite for weeks, him working nights and she on days. Since they seemed to always have different days off, they'd only passed each other in the kitchen at home or in the lounge at work for the past several days. They hadn't even had time to make love recently.

Doug had been spending a lot of his days at his own apartment, going through his things, trashing a lot of old junk, bagging clothes and books and records to give away and boxing up everything he was going to move over to Carol's permanently after they were married. Most of his furniture was to be picked up next week, destined to be donated to a shelter for abused women and children, except for a few pieces that would fit in here and there at the house.

He thought about it, standing there. By tomorrow, he and Carol would be married. It was hard to believe. How was Carol going to react? He didn't like to dwell on it, but he felt a little worried about what he was going to say when she got off the train and he walked her to the marriage license bureau.

Mark had seemed a little skeptical that morning during breakfast.

"It sounds romantic, Doug, but are you sure Carol's up for this? I mean a surprise wedding? It doesn't seem like something Jenn would've gone for," Mark had commented between bites.

"Nah, I'm gonna sweep her off her feet, you know. She's gonna love it, Mark," Doug had reassured him. "Carol's, well, Carol's been through the big family wedding thing before - y'know, with Taglieri, and she's, uh, that's just not something she wants."

Mark had stared at him, a funny look on his face. "I know she *says* she doesn't want it, Doug, but all women, they ... well, they at least want their mother to be there, or their sisters, their girlfriends, when they get married. Isn't Carol going to miss that?"

Doug had pondered it for a while, but decided not to worry. Carol's reluctance to talk about the wedding came from the way she'd been burned, Doug thought, by Taglieri and then by that paramedic, Shepherd, who'd gone off the deep end. And Carol ... Carol just wasn't the type who wanted to be at the center of a big show. A quiet, small ceremony would be just her style. Romantic. And at the Iron Hedge Lodge, a place where they had so many good memories.

Still, a vaguely negative feeling nagged at the back of Doug's mind. She was reluctant to say she loved him, for one thing. Even that morning in the lounge, he'd had to prompt her. But whenever he asked her if she was *sure* she wanted to marry him, she always said yes. And she seemed so sincere.

Doug couldn't figure it out. But he decided once more not to worry. He trusted his feelings and right now, Carol, their relationship, living together, fixing up the house, dreaming about the future - it all just *felt* right. He was ready to commit and, he felt sure, she was too.

Women always were.

_____________________________________________

'Cause I am barely breathing
And I can't find the air
I don't know who I'm kidding
Imagining you care
And I could stand here waiting
A fool for another day
But I don't suppose it's worth the price, worth the price
The price that I would pay
_____________________________________________

5:20 p.m.

Fuck. God *damn* it.

Doug looked at his watch for the fifth time in the past two minutes. Where *was* she? Ten minutes before the bureau closed. If they didn't get the paperwork in now, they wouldn't be getting married tonight, after all.

The apprehensive, vaguely bad feeling Doug had had all day was rapidly growing. Before, he'd thought it was just nerves, the typical thing you heard about happening before you got married. Now he wasn't so sure that was it at all.

The only thing he could imagine was that the paramedic unit that Carol was with must've been delayed at an accident scene. His mind was racing, flirting with other possibilities as well: Was she hurt? Sick? Had she forgotten they were supposed to meet here?

Doug felt the rumble before he heard it: Another train approaching. He looked up hopefully. Surely Carol would be on this one.
_____________________________________________

Everyone keeps asking, what's it all about?
I used to be so certain and I can't figure out
What is this attraction? I only feel the pain
There's nothing left to reason and only you to blame
Will it ever change?
_____________________________________________

Carol would be exhausted from her long shift, Doug knew. And he also knew that the late wedding was going to be pushing it for her. That's why, though he'd thought about ordering some kind of catered food for after the ceremony, he'd decided against it.

Carol would be tired and stressed, he thought. And he knew they would both be eager to get away and be alone.

So he'd bought a case of French champagne and a bottle of good Scotch to toast their marriage with Mark and the judge and their hosts and whatever guests happened to be around the lodge after midnight.

And he knew that after not too much time had passed, Carol would squeeze his hand or touch his arm and look up at him significantly, her eyes telling him that she was happy but ready to end the festivities soon.

So, after one more toast and another round of congratulations, Doug would make sure that Mark got settled into the room that had been reserved for him so he wouldn't have to drive back into the city late.

And then he and Carol would say their last thank you's and accept their final congratulations and they'd take their glasses and what was left of the champagne upstairs to their room.

When they made the plans, Eileen had shown Doug the "honeymoon suite" - a large bedroom with an attached sitting room on the first floor. But he'd declined it and reserved the same room Carol and he had stayed in ever since they visited the lodge for the first time, only a few weeks after they had started dating.

There were so many good memories from the past, so many wonderful moments they'd shared in the little room under the eaves with the big four-poster bed. Carol loved to curl up with a book in front of the wood-burning stove in the corner. And it had an attached bathroom with a tub that was just barely big enough for two.

Plus, it had a view of the field where they'd once made love on a blanket, an experience Carol had never, never forgotten and one of many things Doug never failed to tease her about.

He asked to see the room again and was surprised to find that it had been redecorated since they'd been there last. Eileen had picked out a royal blue gingham bedspread and curtains and hung wallpaper festooned with gauzy blue roses.

"This way you get something new with the good old room," Eileen had commented when she showed it off.

"Something old and something new. Isn't there a saying like that?" Doug had asked.

"Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue," she recited, smiling. "Does Carol need to borrow anything? I think you've got all the other bases covered."

Doug had smiled back and said that Carol needed a witness. He planned to ask Mark to be his best man, but she wouldn't have a maid of honor.

"Well, you can borrow me, then. I've been a witness for several brides and I'd be happy to do it for Carol."

"I know Carol would love that," he'd replied gratefully.

Yes, this was their place. They would be happy here.

_____________________________________________

'Cause I am barely breathing
And I can't find the air
I don't know who I'm kidding
Imagining you care
And I could stand here waiting
A fool for another day
But I don't suppose it's worth the price, worth the price
The price that I would pay
_____________________________________________

6:44 p.m.

Doug paced back and forth frantically, crossing the street to scour the El station, bouncing on his toes as he waited for the next train, and the next, scanning the windows, straining for a glimpse of her.

He had called the hospital three or four times, talking to Mark and Lydia, and left messages at home and at the fire station. Everyone assured him that Unit 57 had come back on time. And except for another elderly rape victim being brought in, there had been no unusual incidents or late calls.

Doug debated calling Carol's mother but when he finally did he only got the answering machine. Helen was probably playing cards tonight or having dinner with Carol's sister. He did not leave a message. No use alarming her needlessly.

His stomach hurt, but Doug couldn't decide whether the pain in his gut was hunger or panic. Finally, he went into a small diner across the street and slid into a booth next to the window, his eyes fixed on Deerborn and Clark all the time he wolfed down a ham and cheese sandwich and drank a Coke.

He finished his food and paid the bill. Still no Carol. It was after 8 by now and he felt convinced, suddenly, that she was not going to show. Either she was hurt or she'd forgotten, he thought, though that seemed so unlike her.

Doug stopped at the pay phone in the diner and called home again, hoping she would pick up. Three rings, four. Damn. Just the machine again. He left another message and walked back outside. Doug stood on the corner for a few more minutes, watching the traffic and the El station futilely. Then he hung his head and started to walk back to the garage where he'd left his Jeep. He felt numb - not only from standing out in the cold, but from the fear and the helplessness that was building in his heart.

What if Carol was out there, his Carol, laying on the street somewhere - bleeding, attacked ....? There was a brutal rapist terrorizing the city for god's sake. *Shit.* Doug grimaced, leaning against his Jeep, his legs feeling weak all of a sudden, reminding him of how he'd felt the day Carol had been caught up in that terrible grocery store robbery. Then he pulled his keys out of his pocket and firmly stopped his thoughts from going any further in that direction. No sense in assuming the worst.

Doug climbed into his Jeep and pulled out of the garage, paying the tab and heading out onto the streets of downtown. Another thought entered his mind: Could it be that Carol was just avoiding him? That she'd gotten wind somehow of what he was planning and decided she didn't want to marry him, after all?

Those thoughts weren't any more pleasant than the others.

He stopped himself again and thought about how he'd felt when he pulled into the garage just a few hours earlier. Happy, nervous, excited, so full of joyful plans and vivid imaginings about how he'd expected the night to turn out.

How wrong could a guy be?

___________________________________________

I've come to find
I may never know
Your changing mind
Is it friend or foe?
_____________________________________________

Doug had only been planning to surprise Carol with an elopement for a couple of weeks, but he had put a lot of time into the plans and he'd pictured the evening in his mind, down to the last detail.

After the ceremony, after they'd retreated to their room, he knew that Carol would disappear into the bathroom while he waited impatiently for her to come to bed. He had bought her a gift - a short, pink satin nightgown - because he knew she'd be loath to wear one of her usual cotton t-shirts to bed on her wedding night. He planned to give it to her after the ceremony.

Carol would walk out finally, looking for him and wondering if he'd reverted to his old habit of going back downstairs for a nightcap and leaving her alone in the room. She'd always hated it when he did that.

Then she'd catch sight of him sitting in her spot, on the floor in front of the glowing stove, his bare back propped against a chair with his knees drawn up and his head leaning against the seat. Looking up at her with his eyes gleaming.

"Hey you.... c'mere."

"What're you doing?" she'd ask, looking lovely in his present, which was low-cut in front with tiny straps.

"Waiting for you."

"Well, am I worth the wait?"

"Uh-huh. You always are. C'mere."

She'd get down on the floor, then, and sit in front of him, fitting neatly between his boxer-clad legs with her back resting against his chest and her head on his shoulder.

He'd rub his hands warmly over her arms and clasp them around her, hugging her with his knees, loving the feel of her skin under his, leaning in to kiss her shoulder tenderly until she turned her mouth up to seek his lips.

"So ... what just happened, anyway?" she'd ask, talking softly, her nose touching his.

"Uh... I think you just kissed me," he'd reply, and she'd grin and lean in, kissing him again.

"There you go - you did it again," he'd murmur, lips still touching hers.

"Doug," she'd laugh, pulling her head back to look at him. "You know what I mean. What was that we did downstairs?"

"Oh, that," he'd say, elaborately casual, turning to gaze into the fire. "Hmm... how much champagne did you have, anyway?"

"Couple glasses."

"And you don't even remember what happened downstairs less than two hours ago?"

"Well, I think I remember, it's just - I can't believe it. It doesn't seem real."

"It's real if we say it's real," Doug would say, quoting her. "What's the matter, can't believe you finally got me to marry you?"

"Well, Doug, all the other women you dated never thought of you as marriage material. Someone had to take pity on you."

"Oh, so that's it. Okay," he'd say, leaning her forward so he could stroke his fingers slowly through her hair and rub her back, feeling the silky softness of her skin and the satiny smoothness of her nightgown. He'd be impatient to remove it, he knew, longing to feel her totally naked in his arms, completely vulnerable. And he'd want to take her and make her completely his, once again.

But this time forever.

"What made you think of ... eloping? I mean, why now?" she'd ask, arching her back a little, enjoying his ministrations.

"Oh, I don't know. I guess ... I guess I knew you didn't want a big wedding and you didn't want to plan something, y'know, make a big fuss. And ... we both had a couple days off, so ... I figured I'd take the opportunity and run with it."

"Hmmm," she'd say thoughtfully.

"What?"

"Reminds me of that romantic marriage proposal of yours..."

A chuckle: "Yeah."

"And that night on the porch last year ... after Toby Mintz dropped me off and you snuck up on me and practically scared me to death."

"Um-hmmm." Doug would be nuzzling her neck by this time, until Carol pulled away just far enough to let him know that she needed to talk a while.

"I ... I was so surprised when you kissed me. I guess I ... I finally understood..."

"Understood what, Carol?" He'd settle for playing with her hair, running his fingers up underneath it until all its heaviness was lifted off her long, white neck, then letting it tumble back over her shoulders, noticing the heady scent of gardenias every time it fell.

"Oh, just ... everything you'd been doing - hanging around me at work, helping me study, coming to my house after my test. I thought ... you were just trying to be my friend."

"I was."

"I know, but ... it felt like more, sometimes. But you never said anything, so I wasn't sure. And then that night. I couldn't figure out why you kept staring at me and asking about Toby."

"Well, I had a whole speech kind of planned out, but when I saw you ... and how beautiful you were, and I thought about how we were all alone and how much I wanted to kiss you, I ... I guess I just forgot it."

"Really?" she'd laugh. "What speech?"

He would look serious then, and shift a little, stretching out his legs and
pulling her close to him again. He'd clear his throat and rest his chin on her shoulder.

"I was gonna say, uh, that I ... loved you, that I'd always loved you, even way back when we first met. But that ... I was too stupid, or to afraid, to admit it," he would turn to look down at her then, through his eyelashes, and smile shyly.

She would be silent, watching him, her eyes suddenly brimming with tears.

His voice would turn quieter: "I was gonna say that I was so wrong, so sorry for ... for everything that happened."

He would pause, waiting for her to stop him, like she always did. But for once she wouldn't.

"That I treated you ... uh ... I treated you like no man has any right to treat a woman, Carol. And that you loved me anyway," he'd pause and smile a little, "even though I was the world's biggest jackass ... and that I wanted to thank you. Even though I never understood what you saw in me, I wanted to thank you for loving me."

The tears would spill over then, and her fingers would reach up to hold his jaw as she kissed him deeply and then wiped her cheeks hastily.

And they'd both be quiet for a little while, staring at the fire and thinking about everything that had happened, and how it was a miracle, really, that they were here. That they'd found their way back to each other and been given another chance.

Then she'd look back up at him with another question.

"Doug, are we ... are we gonna make this work?"

"Sure. Sure, we're gonna make it work. We're gonna have a real honeymoon as soon as we can get some vacation time. And we’re gonna finish the house, make it beautiful, and fix up the upstairs before long so we can .... uh ... so we can put the baby's room up there."

And Carol's eyebrows would shoot up in astonishment. And he'd smile.

"I guess I should've mentioned that, huh? We're going to have kids, Carol. As many as you want."

She'd smile then, still surprised: "And I suppose you're going to spoil them all to death?"

"Yeah, probably. But it'll be okay because you'll be such a good mother you'll make up for it."

A dubious look would cross her face, a frown almost.

"You really think so? You think I can do a better job than my mother did?"

"I know so, Carol. And besides, your mom didn't do such a bad job - just look at you."

She'd smile gratefully, then, and whisper: "How come you always, *always* believed in me, when it seemed like no one else ever did?"

"Well, Carol, I *know* you. I know how great you are. I always have."

And she'd turn in his arms and put her hands on his face and kiss him, warmly, her sweet mouth open under his so he could feel the heat and wetness inside.

"I love you, Doug."

"I love you, too," he'd say, continuing to kiss her and wrapping his arms around her back, holding her close to his chest.

"Doug, can we ... can we keep doing ... *this*, now that we're an old married couple?"

He'd grin slyly at those words and reach his hand up to tilt her chin a little, taking her breath away with his next kiss.

"This? What - you mean ... *this*?" he'd murmur, kissing down her neck as he slid the strap of her nightgown off her shoulder and reached under it to take her breast in his warm hand, his thumb stroking downwards and grazing over her nipple, raising goosebumps all down her arms and making her moan and shiver.

"Exactly."

"Oh, yeah."

"Well then, Doug ... I *know* we'll be okay."

And they would smile and wriggle down together, Doug shoving the chair backwards to give them room, and then they'd be all arms and legs, hands and mouths, reaching and meeting, pressing against each other and caressing, first Doug on top and then Carol as they'd roll over and over in front of the fire.

Her nightgown would slip off somehow, as his boxers would wind up kicked from his ankles. Her mouth would reach for him, exciting and thrilling him, and his would reach for her, wanting to pleasure this woman he so adored. They knew each other so well that even a touch or a whimper, a quick movement or a slow sigh would suffice to communicate what they felt, what they needed.

Both of them were so physical, Doug knew, so fierce in their lovemaking, that it would be difficult to tell them apart after a while, their two bodies would entwine so thoroughly. And then there would come a moment when he battered against her, eagerly seeking entry, and she opened herself to him, pulling him into her, and they would not be two bodies anymore but one flesh - cleaved together - agreeing to put their pasts behind them and committed to becoming a new creation.

Doug would be all raw emotion and strength as his larger body overwhelmed her smaller one in a most wonderful way. Carol had always reveled in the feel of his weight on top of her and she would hold him especially dear this time, matching his every thrust and crossing her long legs around his back, knowing how much he loved pushing deeply inside of her and feeling himself tightly wrapped up in her love.

And they would look into each others' eyes as they felt the end coming, hot and frantic, passionate and sensual.

And they would know somehow, that no matter what else happened in  their life together, they would always be able to retreat into each others' arms and find a place of joy and comfort. And that everything really would be okay.

And afterwards, a long while afterwards, as the fire flickered and burned low, Doug would get up and turn down the blue gingham coverlet on the four-poster bed and they'd crawl between the fresh, clean sheets naked together and lay face-to-face, their pillows close enough so that their foreheads could touch.

"Tired?" he'd ask.

"Yeah. It's been ... a long day," Carol would say, smiling a little with her eyes already closing. "I feel good, though."

"Ummm. How do you mean, *good*?"

"Oh, warm and relaxed ... and happy."

He'd grin slightly at that, pursing his lips, and trace his finger down her nose and over her mouth.

"And ... loved?" he'd ask, his voice a whisper.

She'd laugh a little, bemused, and open her eyes.

"Yeah ... and loved. I feel incredibly loved, Doug."

"Good. Because you are, you know?"

"Yeah. I know."

____________________________________________

I rise above
Or sink below
With every time
You come and go
Please don't come and go
___________________________________________

1:55 a.m.

Doug unlocked the front door and stepped wearily into their house.

*Carol's* house.

He had started to think of it as *theirs* lately - but now, he wasn't so sure.

She hadn't been injured and brought into any of the hospitals in the city, Doug was sure of that. And she hadn't been picked up by the police or treated by paramedics in Chicago tonight. He'd spent the past several hours checking that out, too.

Now it was long past midnight and there was absolutely no sign of her. Not at their favorite restaurants or at the bar where she liked to shoot pool. Not at the coffeehouse where they sometimes went for dessert or the library that was open late.

Doug walked quickly to the answering machine, but there were no new messages since he'd used his remote access code to check half an hour earlier.

Doug didn't know what else to do. He fixed some coffee and looked at the phone. Who else could he call?

He'd talked to Mark hours ago from his car phone.

"Hey, Mark..." he began.

But Mark broke in: "No, Doug, we still haven't seen or heard from Carol."

"Yeah, well, I haven't found her yet either."

Mark's voice turned quiet and concerned: "Have you... have you checked some of the other hospitals, Doug?"

"Uh-huh. All of them. And I've talked to the fire station and the cops. Her mother's not home. I don't know what else to do. I ... uh, I guess she forgot."

"I'm sorry, Doug."

"Yeah. Me too. Hey, uh, don't worry about ... about that thing I mentioned earlier, up in Dundee. It, uh, it doesn't look like it's gonna work out for tonight."

Mark's heart went out to his friend. God, Doug had been giddy with excitement that morning. He'd never seen him so genuinely thrilled. And he was so in love with Carol.

"Doug ... uh, I get off in a couple of minutes. Do you want me to meet you somewhere? Help you look for her?"

"Nah. That's okay, Mark. Thanks. I'm going to go home. Maybe she'll be there by the time I get there."

Doug was getting ready to hang up the phone, but Mark stopped him.

"Doug. Doug, let me know if there's anything I can do, okay? If you ... need anything."

"Sure, buddy. Thanks."

There had been a similar conversation with Eileen - awkward and brief, her careful questions and her silence speaking volumes of pity for him. There would be no wedding tonight. Doug assured her that he'd pay for everything, just to put it all on his credit card. And no, they wouldn't need their room, either.

Doug stood in the kitchen sipping his coffee, lost in thought. If she wasn't hurt and she hadn't forgotten about the corner, Doug could come to only one other conclusion: Carol was staying away on purpose, hiding herself, not wanting to face him tonight. Not wanting to marry him, but too afraid to tell him so.

That scenario registered with his worst fears. Somehow it sounded so much like Carol. There was something in her that hated confrontation. Not that she was afraid to stand up for what she believed in, but she was scared to death of hurting the people who cared about her, he thought.

If she really didn't want to marry him, that would explain her hesitation when he brought up rings and dates, her reluctance to say she loved him. Why she always avoided the discussion by seducing him.

God, that reality hurt like hell.

He looked up at the clock. 2:15. Time to make another round of calls to Chicago's emergency rooms. The night-duty nurses already thought he was crazy.

And maybe he was. He'd been so convinced, in his gut, that his plans for tonight were right. That marrying Carol was what both of them wanted. That it would all turn out wonderfully.

Well, for once his gut had been wrong. Dead wrong. So wrong he was reeling. Doug thought he'd never been so wrong in his life, except for when he'd failed to realize that he loved Carol. This feeling took him back to the night of her suicide attempt.

He started to pick up the phone when he heard her step on the porch and her key turning in the front door.

She walked in. The sight of her in one piece, finally, after he'd worried so many hours, made his heart leap and his shoulders sag slightly with relief. She was all right. But when she looked at him her face was suffused with guilt and something else ... shame.

Uh-oh. Doug's stomach tightened. This was going to be even worse than he had imagined.

"I've been waiting for you all night," he said, holding his arms out, questioning her.

"I'm sorry. I got wrapped up. I called here but you weren't home."

"I was at the corner of Deerborn and Clark."

She hesitated a split second: "Right."

Right. So she hadn't forgotten, then. She hadn't forgotten for a minute.

Doug put his hands in his pockets and did what his father had always taught him: Put on your poker face. Don't reveal anything. Keep your cards close and don't let them see what you're holding.

"I called the hospital, the fire house, they both said that you and the 57 came back on time."

Carol looked hesitant, like she wasn't sure how much to say. Then she started talking - about how tough her day had been, about the latest rape victim, about how she'd spent the evening talking to the paramedic she'd worked with on her ride along. About how she'd started telling him things.

Oh god *damn* it. Shit. So that was it. Doug didn't know this guy but he could imagine him, a young stud like those jerks from the gym. What was it with Carol and firemen, anyway?

Keep it all inside, Doug. Don't let her see how scared you are, how much you're dreading it. How much you don't want to hear the words that you know are coming next. Be patient: Let her give it all away.

"Ummm-hmmm. Talking to him all night?"

"We got coffee, and then we talked, and since then I've been walking."

"In this cold?"

"I needed to think."

"Mmm." Doug stared at her, levelly. It was about to happen. A whisper: "About what?"

Carol looked guilty, but somehow defiant at the same time. She looked down and swallowed hard. When she started to talk, there was a catch in her voice: "About you and me, the engagement, the vows, the rings, and, um..."  Carol sniffed and her voice trailed off, but she was shaking her head.

No. What Doug had planned, spending the rest of their lives together, everything he'd been looking forward to so eagerly - it wasn't what she wanted. It wasn't going to happen.

She ran her hand briefly through her hair and looked back up at him, her beautiful eyes glistening with tears and her voice quivering: "I think we're rushing into this. I don't think we're ready."

The heartbreaking sadness on Carol's face, her sheer loveliness did not touch Doug's heart like it usually did. He felt numb, remote from her.

"I'm ready," he whispered. "But you aren't?"

"When I was talking to Greg Powell, it got intense, and um ..." she stopped a moment and bit her lip nervously, shaking her head, looking like she wasn't sure what to say next.

Doug tightened his jaw, already knowing what was coming. When Carol looked back up at him, he saw the hint of defiance in her eyes again: "And I kissed him."

Doug looked at her, acknowledging what she'd said, but just barely: "Hmmm." Kissed him ... and what else? And what else did you do to him, Carol?

Doug's imagination started to work overtime. Carol in another man's bed. Carol sharing her secrets, becoming aroused, unveiling her body, lying in another man's arms. Carol holding someone else close to her and moaning, clutching at him, losing herself...

Doug struggled to shut off the visions that filled his mind. He tried mightily not to let his devastation show.

But it did. It was like Carol could see inside his head: "It didn't go any further than that," she said. "It was just one of those moments, y'know?"

Did he know? Oh yes, he knew. One of those moments when you feel someone's eyes on you and it's scary and exciting all at once. When you know that a stranger thinks you're special and ... sexy. When your heart starts racing because you know that if you take a chance - if you brush against her, or move just a little closer - you can kiss her and she will kiss you back. And no matter how wrong you know it is, how much you know it will hurt the person you care about, you can't escape that rush of arousal, that pull, that addiction, urging you on...

Doug tuned back in to find Carol still talking, justifying herself, desperate: "I didn't want it to..."

But by now Doug was beyond calm listening and patient conversation. This was not a subject to sit and talk out rationally. He'd been ready to share his life with this woman, make a commitment to her that he would take more seriously than any other. And she'd been ...

Doug couldn't look at her anymore or listen to her - not to her excuses or her explanations or any of her other bullshit. Not any more.

He had to get out before the hurt screaming inside him turned to fury and was unleashed.

"Okay, that's good. I just was here ... I just wanted to make sure that you were safe ... and *sound.*" He strode swiftly over to pick up his coat where he'd left it on the couch, then he turned his back on her and headed for the door.

"Doug! I am so sorry!" There was pain in her voice again and repentance, but he didn't hear it.

And sorry didn't even *begin* to cover it.

But just before he walked out the door, he said it anyway: "Yup, me too."
___________________________________________

'Cause I am barely breathing
And I can't find the air
I don't know who I'm kidding
Imagining you care
And I could stand here waiting
A fool for another day
But I don't suppose it's worth the price, worth the price
The price that I would pay
But I'm thinking it over anyway....
___________________________________________

THE END