Unweave A Rainbow

* This is going back from my first story, to around the time shortly before Carol tells Doug about the pregnancy. It will explore both character's jealousies and insecurities about their relationship.
* These aren't my characters, and never will be. Please don't sue me, cos I have no money for you to have anyway.
* I'm English, so please excuse any odd spellings or slang. I will not pretend to be American, because I'm quite clearly not.
* The song featured is 'Out To Get You' by James. I don't think the American readers will have heard their music, but I can assure you all that you're missing out. They're sort of like REM, only less depressive and a little more down to earth. The song is available on the album, 'The Best Of' or on 'Laid'.

Unweave a Rainbow
by Jo
dynamojo26@hotmail.com

Midnight. High summer in the city. The air was hot, heavy with humidity. There was no breeze, no moon, just dark, thunderous clouds cloaking the stars and the sky, trapping everything beneath them. The streets were still busy, people thronging about like insects on some marathon mission, pushing, shoving, not caring where they put their feet or their wheels.

He was away from the chaotic crowding, staring down on it from his second floor apartment window. The window was flung wide open, but it offered no relief from the choking heat. He couldn't sleep, despite trying now for over an hour. He usually slept in his boxers and a T-shirt, but tonight, was naked in a vain attempt to keep himself cool.

The heat wasn't the only thing keeping him from sleep. He had not been naked in bed since he had last been with her, and to be alone like this seemed wrong. He was missing her, he knew it. Missing everything she had represented; love, friendship, relief, laughter, happiness, balance. Missing the way they would lie on the bed on a hot night, the sheets kicked away, making love until the night brought its cool refreshment.

Mrs. Grabbacle in the apartment beneath him had been cooking bacon and now the smell had permeated through the entire building, making him feel hungry, and then sick. Now, he had come to the conclusion that there would be no sleep tonight.

Midnight. Summer moon, pearl white and shimmering through a smoggy haze of heat. It had been yet another scorching day, with the sun beating down mercilessly on the city, turning any standing water into vapour. Outside, she heard people passing, heels clicking on concrete and then the swoop and rush of cars. She could almost feel the dust being blown into the air.

Away from the lazy noises of her street, she laid on top of the bedsheets, the fan blowing hot air over her, offering no relief. She usually slept in pajamas, but tonight was way too hot. It was not sticky or humid, so she had stripped down to her skin, but, the feeling that she shouldn't be alone like this was keeping her from sleep. She remembered how he loved finding her naked in bed on a hot night, and if he did, they would always make slow, unhurried love, and the heat would be forgotten in the intensity of passion.

Without him here, the bed seemed too large for her little body, and each night she would think of him, sliding over to where he would sleep, and searching for some smell or some impression of what had been. It did not matter that she had changed the sheets since he had last slept there, for she was searching for the memory, and that would never fade.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm so alone tonight, my bed feels larger than when I was small
Lost in memories
Lost in all the sheets and all the pillows
I'm so alone tonight, I miss you more than I will let you know
Miss the outline of your back
Miss you breathing down my neck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He stumbled into work late that morning. Sleep had finally come sometime around four, and he had managed about three hours of dull, dreamless slumber before the alarm had flicked the radio on and his ears had been bombarded with the artificially joyous voices of the local radio's breakfast team.

A shower had not made him any less groggy, and the expresso and toast he had wolfed down at the corner cafe had, as yet, had no effect either. As he walked along the corridor, heading for his office, several people threw questions or pieces of paper at him. How he fielded them away he barely knew, as his brain felt like cotton wool.

"Good morning, sunshine!" chimed Cindy Barber, his assistant. He glared at her. "Ooh, who spilt your morning tea?" she smiled, and then handed him a pile of forms six inches high. "There you go. Just what you've always wanted. California State Health Council clearance forms... tick where applicable, sign please, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Have fun."

She turned away from him, sat down and began tapping away at her computer. Doug shook his head and walked through to his office. How she managed to be so cheery every morning was incomprehensible.

Once in his office, he shut the door, and went to the vent of the air conditioning to bask in the cold air. Aiming vaguely at his desk, he threw the papers. They missed, and scattered all over the place, some landing on the desk, but most floating to rest on the floor. He gave an aggravated sigh, and closed his eyes.

"Good God, what happened in here?" came Cindy's voice only a few moments later. He opened his eyes and stared at her. She was holding two cups of coffee and had the morning newspaper tucked under her arm. "Did they do something to offend you?"

Doug shook his head. "Oh, I see, it's one of those days is it?" Cindy smiled gently. She handed him a cup and he took it gratefully.

"You could say that..." he moaned. "I barely had any sleep last night, and I can't get my mind off Chicago."

"Mmm..." She sat down in his chair, and kicked her feet up onto his desk. "Chicago, or Mystery Woman from Chicago?" Doug smiled wryly. She was good, she was very good.

"Probably the latter..." he admitted.

"Well, how's about you sit that little butt of yours down and talk to me, huh? There's no need to worry about telling me private stuff, I'm pretty much a social recluse, so who would I tell, huh?"

He chuckled. Cindy was one of those people you couldn't fail to like, and he had found himself taking great comfort in her quiet, down to earth attitude to life. She had not had the best of lives, and was now the single mother of two kids, Hannah, who was six, and Robbie, who was four. She lived alone, and had never shown any interest in him other than the friendly kind since he had arrived.

"It's stupid..." Doug shook his head, knowing that it certainly didn't feel stupid to him.

"No, it's not." Cindy told him in no uncertain terms. "Otherwise you wouldn't be so caught up about it."

"I just keep thinking about her. Things keep reminding me of her, of what she'd do, or say..." He sighed slowly. "I know it's cos I'm missing her, but I can't shake the feeling that's it wrong."

"What? To miss her?"

"No, to be here, away from her. We had so much. We could have been so much, and now that all seems hopeless."

"Nothing is hopeless until it is." Cindy smiled. Doug frowned.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Dunno, it just sounded good..." She giggled, and was happy to find that he was chuckling too, even if it was slightly strained.

She stood up, and walked over to him, taking his hands in hers and giving them a quick motherly squeeze. "Look, call her. I know you keep telling me you don't want to, but I can tell that you do. If you can't handle speaking to her about stuff other than the necessities, then just ring up to leave your phone number, or your e-mail address, or something. It'll ease your mind."

"Yeah," He didn't sound convinced. She released him, and took a few steps away, to survey his face.

"Come on, tell me what the real, main, big thing on your mind is..."

Doug shrugged. "I keep wondering if she's had anyone ask her out again..." He paused, and sucked his lower lip. "Cos they will, you know. She's so pretty, and she's got a great body, and the best personality. You'd be stupid not to find her attractive."

Cindy grinned. "Ah, Doug, beware the green-eyed monster..."

"It's not like that... it's... oh, maybe it is," he conceded. "I just don't want that to happen. Not while I still haven't let her go."

Carol took the El into work that morning. The sky was azure blue, splattered with white paint-box clouds that were sure to be burned away by lunchtime. She felt tired, so she had taken her vitamin supplement tablets with a glass of orange juice, but so far, had felt little effect. Coffee as soon as she walked in through the hospital doors, she decided as she jumped off at her stop.

Mark greeted her half-heartedly as she headed for the lounge. He was concentrating on an elderly woman who was demanding to see a doctor he kept insisting was a fictional television character. The day was certain to become worse.

She changed into scrubs and poured herself a mug of coffee, sitting down on the sofa to catch her breath and take a few hurried sips. She had not been seated more than thirty seconds before Elizabeth walked in, giggling with Mark about some private joke. Those two were becoming closer, and Carol had found it intriguing to watch them, thinking it was how she and Doug must have appeared last year, flushed with a new found love, in the world, but barely aware of it.

"Hi," she greeted. Mark glanced up, noticing Carol for the first time.

"Oh, God, I didn't see you there..." He took his hand away from Elizabeth's side nervously. Carol smiled at his gesture.

"Well, I wasn't exactly keen on making my presence known."

He nodded, and went to the coffee jug. "Do you want one?" he asked Elizabeth.

"That would be perfect." He poured two mugs and then pulled up a chair and sat opposite Carol. She avoided his eyes by closing her own and sighing.

"Tired?" he enquired gently. She nodded.

"Yeah. Didn't sleep well last night, the heat kept me up," she lied.

"Are you sure you don't want some pills?"

"No, I'm okay, Mark, really I am." She put her mug on the floor and started to massage the base of her neck, trying to get the crick from it.

"You don't look very good, Carol..." Elizabeth said slowly. There was a silence, as Carol just stared at the pair of them. She had no idea what she would have done without them these past two months. They had been a welcome relief from the sudden loneliness and the dull, empty sensation she had in the pit of her stomach. "I'm quite a good listening ear, you know..." she added.

Carol let out a long breath, then spoke, "I thought that I'd managed to put it behind me." She said, frowning at herself. "But then, last night, he just popped into my head again, and I couldn't send him away. I couldn't stop thinking about all the things he used to say and do and I ended up crying." She shook her head. "It's stupid, it really is. He's not coming back, and I've got to get used to life on my own."

"Now, that's not necessarily true," Mark told her quietly. "Don't say stuff that you don't believe, Carol."

She ignored his comment, and carried on, "I kept thinking that he's probably started dating again. I mean, he's a great, handsome guy, there'll be women falling over themselves to go out with him." Just like before, she added to herself, silently.

"Jealousy'll get you nowhere..." Mark smiled. She glared at him.

"My mother used to say that, Mark." He shrugged his shoulders.

"And there's nothing stopping him for saying yes..." she sighed, and rubbed her face with her fists.

A short silence passed, as Carol held back tears she couldn't even understand. "I would think there is..."

Carol's eyes shot up to Elizabeth, who had seated herself on the arm of the sofa. "What?"

"I said, I would think there is..."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, Doug was in love with you Carol. That part was obvious. You've not told him that this is over, have you?" She shook her head. "So, I don't think he's going to be throwing you away that quickly."

Carol said nothing in response. Elizabeth was right, but it didn't change anything. She was still here, and he was still there. That was how it was. Suddenly, with no warning, the floodgates behind her eyes opened, and tears leaked out. She hurriedly wiped them away, feeling embarrassed. "Oh God, I can't believe I'm still missing him so much!" she admonished, almost scolding herself.

Mark, who had been quiet for a little while now, spoke up, "Ring him, Carol. That's the only way to make yourself feel better. If you let him talk for a while, maybe it'll clear the air."

"No, no, I can't do that." She stood up quickly, and walked to the window, sniffing back her tears. "I've got to deal with this, not cut corners."

There was no answer either of them could give to that. Mark stared at her back, shaking his head. She was acting so bizarre, she wasn't the Carol he'd known before...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All out to get you, once again
They're all out to get you, once again

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Early evening, six o'clock to be precise. Doug was still at work, stuck in his office signing papers. The trip to Delaware last week had brought with it a backlog of paperwork and before he could begin making arrangements for the planned pediatric ER in San Francisco, he had to get the monotonous stuff out of the way first. Cindy had barely disturbed his work all day, keeping to herself, and performing a massive clean-up operation in her own office. At one point he had walked through to grab a sandwich from the canteen, and had had to hurdle the stacks of forms and brochures she had laid out all over the floor.

He glanced at his watch. He couldn't go home yet, there was still too much to do. The door swung open and Cindy stuck her head around the doorframe. "Hey, I'm going... I've gotta pick the kids up from my cousin's."

Doug nodded, barely even looking up. "Are you coming?" she asked. "Cos then I can lock up..."

"Nah, too much to do. At this rate, we'll be going to San Francisco some time next year."

"Okay, well, don't be too late. Remember we've got that meeting with Brian Moro tomorrow morning."

"Oh, crap... I'd forgotten all about that." Doug cursed. "What time is it?"

"Nine-thirty."

"Ohhhh," he dropped his head onto the desk and knocked it on the wood a couple of times, moaning. "Can't we get that changed?"

"Not a chance. He saw me in the corridor today and reminded me about it. He asked me if you were looking forward to it. I had to tell him something nice..."

"Thanks, Cin..." Doug replied sarcastically.

"Well, I can't hang around any longer, Doug, Kate's gonna be getting pissed. I'm late already."

"Okay, see you." He waved her off, and then looked back to his documents. His eyesight was going blurry. "Oh fuck this." He pushed them away, and stood up. Taking his briefcase, he headed out of the hospital.

It was still very much daylight outside, and as he started the Jeep's engine, he made a quick decision. He would stop and get himself one drink, because, hell, he needed it.

As he walked into the virtually deserted bar, he felt strange. It had been years since he'd been in a bar on his own, drinking. Yeah, he would go out with Carol, and with Mark, but it seemed alien territory to be on his own. He ordered himself a beer and then found a quiet corner.

Drinking it, he began to take in his surroundings. The bar was relatively small, and nicely decorated, not like some of the seedy places he used to inhabit years ago, but then, it was only early. As his eye passed around, he saw a woman sitting alone in a booth opposite him. She was not looking at him, but staring at the surface of the table, and appeared to be crying to herself. He wondered if he should go over and speak to her, find out what the matter was. No, he told himself. She probably doesn't want that.

A few minutes later, she got up and went to the toilets, clutching her stomach, her face stained red with tears. Doug got up and walked over to where she had been sat. She had left her drink, and, then he saw a piece of paper on the surface. It was an ultrasound picture. Of a baby. Doug almost bolted. But, gathering himself, he sat down and waited.

The woman emerged some time later, and stared at him, "Excuse me?" she said. "Who are you?" She was still crying.

"I, er, I saw you crying... and I wondered if I could help...?"

"I don't think so. Not unless you're Cupid himself." She sat down, and took a steadying sip of her drink.

"Who?"

"Cupid. The God of Love." she stared at him.

"Well, I don't think I've ever been called the God of Love..." Doug smiled, thinking that there was probably someone in his past, probably Linda Farrell, who had christened him a tacky name such as that. "Why do you need the God of Love?" He asked.

"Because my boyfriend has decided that he doesn't love me anymore, and he's taken off to New York." She sighed, and downed the rest of her drink. "Things started getting complicated, and so he ran away."

"Is this the complication...?"

Doug picked up the ultrasound picture. "You could say that," she paused. "The thing is, I wanted a baby so much, and now I've got one, I know I've done the wrong thing. If I'd have just realised that Duncan didn't want a baby, then I wouldn't have done it."

"Done what?"

She looked up at him and said slowly, "Not taken my pill."

"Oh, I see..." Doug looked away, feeling as if he were intruding in her privacy, but she continued quietly,

"Yeah, well, we all make mistakes. I've just managed to make a big, fat, giant one." She paused and ran her hands through her short blonde hair. "The thing that annoys me the most is that he kept on saying he wanted a baby, that it was his dream, and then, the morning after I came home and told him, he was gone."

Doug realised how much her situation reflected his own. For all he knew, Carol could be pregnant also, alone, and probably thinking the same things. "Hey, you've got to forget about him." He said, feeling like a total hypocrite. "Are you gonna keep the baby?"

"I don't know... I, my Mum's gonna kill me."

Doug watched her for a moment. "How old are you, if you don't think I'm being rude...?"

"I'm twenty-two."

"Well, your Mum has no bearing on your decision then. You have three options, have the baby and keep it, have the baby and give it up for adoption, or have it aborted."

"I'm too far gone for the last one," she murmured. "So it's A or B."

"Well, you just have to do whatever feels right, no-one can tell you what to do."

"Are you a doctor, or something..." She asked, observing him through narrowed eyes.

"Yeah," She grinned.

"I'm Carly,"

"And I'm Doug..."

One drink became two, and then three, before Doug finally decided he should go. Carly had become slowly drunk, and she was now laughing at nearly everything he said, funny or not. Doug smiled at her, "I'm gonna go now," he said. "I've had three beers, so I shouldn't have any more if I've got to drive back."

"Oh, don't go!" Carly pleaded loudly. "We're having a laugh."

"Yeah, but really..."

She placed her hand on his forearm as he rose, and pulled him down to sit next to her. "Don't go..." she said firmly. Doug suddenly felt alarmingly uncomfortable, and moved slightly away from her. He made a face.

"I really ought..."

"Please..." She looked at him straight in the eyes. She was a pretty girl, quite girlish in appearance, and her short hair was messily styled and gripped behind her ears with little silver flower clips. Under different circumstances, he would find her very attractive. "Doug," She said his name with a lilt in her voice, and he immediately stood up,

"No, Carly, I can't do this. I have someone... I can't do this." He turned and walked away, knowing he was being rude, but also knowing that if he didn't, he would be betraying Carol, and he couldn't do that.

He drove to his apartment quickly, his mind given instant sobriety by the incident in the bar. This was what he had been afraid of. So far, there had been no real advances from the women he worked with. A few at the hospital had flirted with him, but each time, he'd deflected their attempts coolly. He was proud of himself, but tonight, he felt almost guilty, perhaps because he had thought she was attractive.

Once inside, he shut the door, threw his briefcase down and took his tie off, opening his shirt. He mindlessly switched the television on, and flopped down onto the sofa, kicking off his shoes. It was a film, some kind of heavy drama, with a smartly dressed man sitting opposite a clearly distressed woman, she said, 'Often you don't realise how key someone is to your life until they're gone... and then, then it's too late, too late to

tell them that you loved them and that they were the better part of you.

Doug switched the television off, those words echoing in his head, and, without thinking, picked up the phone and began dialing her number. He waited, his heart pounding, whilst the number accessed. The phone rang twice, and then, the answermachine clicked on, 'Hi, we're not home at the moment. Leave a message and we'll get back to you.

It was her voice, but his message. Once they had started living together, he had insisted that she put his name on the answermachine, because people might call him and think they'd got the wrong number. Carol had obliged, and it seemed, she had not bothered to change it since he had left. He slammed the receiver down, refusing to talk to the answermachine. It was not what he wanted.

He wanted to hear her voice, to hear her tell him it would all be okay, that it was all worthwhile. It was a little need, but it felt like a hand grasping around his throat. He just wanted to hear her...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Insecure...
What you gonna do?
Feel so small they could step on you
Called you up...
Answermachine
When the human touch
Is what I need, what I need
What I need, what I need
What I need, what I need
Is you
I need you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carol worked overtime to avoid going home to an empty house, and it was gone nine when she finally got in. She thanked God that the house was cool after the heat of the day, and collapsed on the sofa, pushing her feet up onto the coffee table and closing her eyes. She felt herself falling to sleep, and even though she tried to fight it, it was too strong, and she drifted away. Not for the first time, she dreamed of a time where Ricky Abbott had not come into their lives, where she and Doug had carried on as normal, making plans for a future together, basking in their love for one another. Through the haze, she heard the phone ring, but it took her a few seconds to wake. She jumped up and rushed to the phone, just as the answermachine clicked in. Despite picking up the receiver, it was clear that whomever it was had hung up. She cursed the phone, and then herself.

Still tired, but warm inside, she headed onto the back porch, to sit in the cool evening. The swing seat Doug had installed last summer had not been used for months, and she dragged out the cushions from under the stairs to sit comfortably. Her mind fleeted back to that day, sometime in June, when Doug had been passing away his probation after the Josh McNeal incident.

He had taken a vital interest in the house, painting, staining, buying furniture and doing little DIY jobs here, there and everywhere. She had never known he could be so focused. This particular afternoon, she had come in from work to find him outside. A check list on the counter showed that he had been to the supermarket, bought screws for the outside lamp, booked an appointment for himself at the opticians and washed the Jeep.

She cracked open two bottles of beer and went outside to greet him. He had taken the radio outside and was singing gruffly to 'Finest Worksong' by REM. It was very appropriate, she thought, as she looked at him, lying upside down underneath a swing seat, tightening some screws. He was wearing scruffy black shorts, a grey T-shirt and a Cubs baseball cap.

"Hey," she greeted. He jumped, hitting his head on the swing seat, and then collapsing on his back, rubbing his forehead and moaning. He wriggled out and sat up, glaring at her,

"Don't ever do that to me again..." he smiled. Carol giggled at the red mark on his forehead, and then knelt down and kissed it,

"Aw, poor baby..."

He readily accepted her kiss, and caught her lips with his own. "Say sorry," he demanded softly. Grinning back at him, she slipped her fingers around his neck and pulled him into a deeper kiss, "That'll do..." he said against her cheek as he strayed away. It had begun to shower, but neither of them noticed.

"I brought you a beer,"

"Oh, thanks..." He took it from her and then stood up, pulling her up with him, and then stepping back. "What d'ya think, huh? Have I done a good job?"

"Where did you get this from?" Carol said, running her fingers along the smooth white wood.

"From the ironmongers. I went to get some screws for the lamp, and the man was hard-selling these. I guess I'm just a sucker, that's all..." He smiled.

"I think it's very nice. It's something I've never really wanted... but, it looks good. I like it." She turned back to him, and planted a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," he whispered, and squeezed her back. "Try it out,"

"Is it safe?" She looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"What do you mean, is it safe? Of course it's safe!" He objected, pushing her towards it. "It's a masterpiece of DIY."

Carol laughed. "Uh-huh, let's see, shall we?" She sat down on it, gently, testing her weight on it.

"It won't break, Carol," Doug said, "I've been jumping on it this afternoon."

"Oh, okay then," She swung her feet up, and he went behind her to give her a push. She giggled as he sent her swinging gently. "Oooh, this is great, Doug," He pushed her again. "Your one good buy," she teased.

"Hey!" He gave her a poke. "I've made some great purchases, thank you very much!"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. What about the fence at the front? Hmm?"

"Well..." She thought for a minute. "I suppose so,"

"And the lamp..." He gestured to the now glowing Victorian lamp on the back of the house. "We can see the garden at night now."

"Alright, point made!" she laughed. "Come here,"

He joined her on the swing seat, making a face when she said that it creaked. "Have you had a good day?" He asked quietly, leaning back and putting his arm around her shoulder.

"Mmm... not so bad. Mark was stressing, but that's pretty much the norm these days." She tilted her head back, resting it on his arm. "He keeps moaning about the extra work load, but when I said it was only because you weren't there, he ignored me."

Doug smiled, "Well, that's Mark for you... stubborn as a mule." Carol nuzzled into his chest.

"I think I could say the same about you," She looked up at him, smiling as he feigned mock surprise, and then added,

"Moi?!"

"Shh...look," she said, pointing out over the garden. The rain had passed and the sun was casting it's last lazy rays across the scenery. "There's a rainbow..."

"Yeah... and...?"

"And I love rainbows." Carol closed her eyes, letting out a slow, relaxed breath.

"And I love you."

She opened her eyes and stared at him. "You say that at the strangest times..." He cuddled her gently.

"Well, it's the truth. I do," A warm, fuzzy feeling washed through her, and he smiled, pulling her closer to his chest.

They passed some minutes this way, just holding each other, quiet, counting the colours in the rainbow, each getting different numbers. "Show me," Carol said finally, glancing up at him and meeting his dark brown eyes with her own. He stared down at her, mildly incredulous,

"What? Out here?"

She grinned devilishly. "Why not? It's our garden. The neighbours shouldn't be watching." Doug chuckled at her brazen suggestion, and then slid off the swing and knelt on the floorboards of the porch.

He idly reached up and loosened the drawstring on her scrubs, the same ones she'd been wearing all day, and hadn't been bothered to change at the end of her shift. With his eyes fixed on her face, he gently pulled them to her feet, lifting her at the hips and revealing her pale blue cotton underwear. She smiled down at him, and he stood, then, unexpectedly, straddled her on the swing, balancing himself over her.

He lowered his head and kissed her, and she returned his kiss, pressing her tongue against his teeth, sliding it over and over and over until he parted them and let her roam his mouth, all the while, not touching her body, just hovering over it, tempting.

Carol was glowing with heat, her face flushed with excitement, her breath quick. She was desperate for him to touch her. "Doug," she breathed. "Touch me,"

He merely smiled at her, his eyes catching hers and then returning to her lips, where, seconds later, his own lips replaced them. She could not stop kissing him, yearning to have the feel of him, to squeeze and hold his flesh in her fingers. She could sense he was aroused, his breathing was deep, languid but excited, raised to a quiet fever pitch and all the while, echoing around her like an enclosing lung.

With a sigh, his first unwitting admittance of excitement, he slipped down to the floor again, and then reached up, making her lean into him. He eased her T-shirt off her back, feeling the sticky, hot sweat on his fingertips, and then, in one quick movement, broke the snap on her bra, letting the material fall from her and onto the floor at his knees. "That's better..." he murmured, quietly, as if to no-one but himself.

By now, Carol was consumed. A strange, almost primeval urge was growling around her gut, tugging at her like a wild animal threatening to break it's chain. He was teasing her now, passing ghostly fingertips over her skin, studiously avoiding the places he knew drove her crazy, instead tracing intricate patterns that only he could see across her tummy, her upperarms, her thighs and neck. Gradually, those fingertips were replaced by lips, soft and sucking and leaving trails of wetness that turned sharp with cold once his mouth moved on.

She felt his hands, silky sparks along her spine, gently rubbing, drawing every last ounce of sensation from her body. He was still fully clothed, but Carol was barely aware of the fact. Her mind had blended with her body and become that urge she had felt in her gut, coiled tight like a spring, threatening to overcome her. Nothing was present in her mind beside intense, focused ecstasy - no Doug, no self, nothing.

Suddenly, he left her skin, and then, she felt him pressing his mouth against the material of her panties, tasting the moisture soaking through them. "Doug, Doug, Doug," Carol groaned, unconsciously. His fingers skitted up to the waistband and he pulled them slowly down, revealing her, and then, took up a slow, tender tease.

At that point, Carol's mind left her body, and traveled somewhere else entirely, somewhere she had visited only with this man. It was black, but hot black, memories and shadows provided vivid colour in flashes and with each flash, came a concentrated burst of sensation.

Doug felt her gathering, her breath resounding in his ears. His shorts were tight from the pressure of his erection, but the feeling was not pain, but a chaotic need, a need to please her. Her bare feet were stretching, the toes curling and her skin so hot it felt like liquid fire. He took his journey away from her clitoris, and began at her head again. He kissed her forehead, then took her lips in his own and moulded himself to her. She responded weakly, as if she were barely able to summon the concentration to do so, and then he trailed down her neck, sucking the skin tenderly, encircling her nipple, taking it in his teeth and applying a little exquisite pressure.

Then, he moved down, down to where he had been before, licking up her wetness, pressing his lips against her. With a sudden flicker of energy, she came, arching her neck backwards, moaning long and hard as her body quivered out of control.

When she opened her eyes, Doug was naked. His body was fluid, moving without effort or seemingly without thought, simply glistening energy, highlighted in places with her sweat. He lifted her up off the seat, and she was limp like a rag doll. Carol sighed, holding onto him for fear that she would crumple if she did not. She kissed him, hot and slow, sated with enjoyment, but wanting to feel him the same way. Doug returned the kiss, wilder and more intense, feeling an urge to fuse with her begin to thump in his stomach.

She looked up, and saw his eyes, dark and penetrating, like pools of blackness, focused on only her. With a slight twinkle in her eyes, she pressed herself against him, so he would feel her hardened nipples, and she would feel his own hardness. He kissed her hair, breathing in the smell of it. Carol reached down and began stroking him with her fingers, from base to head and again and again, pushing back the foreskin, pressing her fingertip into the skin at the top.

Sensation raced across Doug's body, making him twist, his muscles tightened and he swayed from one foot to the other without even realising he was doing it. Carol looked up and saw his face, savage with fierce longing, as he wrenched it from side to side, tiny groans of ecstasy spilling from his lips.

Abruptly, he lifted her off her feet, turned her around and sat down on the swing seat, lowering her onto him, adjusting her legs so that she was kneeling. Her head became heavy as she felt him within her and it fell back, the tips of her hair caressing his knees. Unconsciously, they set up a liquid rhythm, sweat sticky in the cool evening air, and for Carol, the pleasure went on and on.

She came again, and again, as he held himself, waiting for her, wanting to give her everything he could. Carol could barely believe what was happening, never before had she been so aroused by one man and what he did to her. It was crazy.

Finally, when she was on the precipice of exhaustion, Doug shifted his position, gave two more long thrusts and exploded within her with a violence she had not ever seen from him. His body contracted and convulsed like he were possessed by some frantic animal, snarling and moaning.

When he was done, he slowly opened his eyes, still holding her close, still feeling her within him, slippery with his fluid and her own. He was sucking air in through his teeth, inhaling deep and hard. She kissed him one last time, passionate and strong, and felt him give one last shudder of release. Then, he was calm, and they held each other in silence, languidly relaxing again. She spoke, soft whispered words in his ear, "Thank you, Doug... for everything," He smiled. "I love you."

Those were the words he lived for. To hear her say them gave him a sense of wondrous security like none other before, to know that she loved him was to be happy, easy, at peace.

The air was getting cold, and the night dark, and she packed up the cushions, chuckling to herself, remembering how for weeks afterwards, she had seen knowing smiles on the faces of the neighbours, even though none were there. She went to bed, after locking up, to try to get some sleep. And, as she laid on the bed, staring up at the ceiling Doug had painted, she realised that, once again in her life, she was alone.

She wrestled with her thoughts for a while, trying to decide if she blamed him or not. No, she didn't blame him, she was angry with him for leaving her like this, but it was not his fault. She recognised that it was her's too. She had been right about him, he was too stubborn for his own good, but then, she thought bitterly, so was she. She could have gone with him, could have stayed with him, if only for a short while. She could have tried to find a job up there, she could have found new friends, and it wasn't as if her mother called often anymore, not now that she had Javier. Stubborn. She was just too damn stubborn for her own good.

And now, now she was alone, without the one person in the world whom she treasured as much as herself. She had tried to be strong, tried to give the impression that she didn't need him, but had failed dismally. She was missing him like her left lung, and his absence was palpable every day, in everything she did.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Looked in the mirror
I don't know who I am anymore
The face is familiar
But the eyes, the eyes
Give it all away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Doug was fidgeting. "Stop it," Cindy growled under her breath. Doug cast her a sidelong glance and stopped. They were in the meeting with Brian Moro, their chief, but he was fielding phone calls at the moment, passing from one line to the next, apologising profusely in between speaking.

"Well, can't he hurry up? I've still got all those papers to sort through." Doug mouthed. Cindy gave him a glare. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry," he atoned, putting his hands behind his back so he couldn't fidget.

Finally, Moro put the telephone down and looked up at them. "I am so very sorry, folks," he said. Brian Moro was a heavily built Southerner, and could have been anything from forty-five to sixty years old. He had craggy features, and his face had a complexion like that of a slab of granite. He radiated authority from every pore, in the same manner that Don Anspaugh had, Doug recalled, but this man was much more agreeable.

Moro's watery blue eyes scanned Doug and Cindy's faces briefly and then lowered to a file he had on his desk. He fumbled with it, muttering under his breath whilst he adjusted the elastic and opened it. "Here's your action plan, then," he said.

Doug took the wad of paper from him. "Is this all we're going to need?"

"It sure is, this one's quite simple. They've had a pediatrics ER before, but it was closed down because of lack of funds. Now, they've got a grant from the Health Council, and plan to bring it back. So, it shouldn't be a marathon operation." Moro paused and scratched his balding head. "Air tickets are in this file," he said and handed Cindy the folder. "See you next week."

And with that, he waved them off casually, and stood up, picking up the golf iron he had been practising with when they had arrived.

"I wish I had that man's job!" Cindy joked as they left the office. "He seems to spend all his time playing golf,"

"Mmm..." Doug gave a moan of agreement. "It's alright for some,"

As they walked back through the hospital, Cindy teased Doug, "I hope you've got me a wonderful, luxury suite down there... nice big bed, balcony, Jacuzzi..." Doug raised his eyebrow.

"Well, don't be too disappointed, will you?" He smiled. Cindy batted his arm with the folder, but did so a little too hard, and the various sheets of paper fell out, scattering all over the corridor.

"Oh, shh... sugar!" she exclaimed and dropped to her knees. Doug chuckled, and knelt to help her. They were giggling away, when Cindy stood up and announced, "Doug, don't be mad..."

"What have you done?" He asked, trepidation in his voice.

"I haven't got the air tickets... they must have fallen out somewhere,"

"Oh great!"

They began searching, Doug bending to look under tables and counters. "Hi, what have you lost?" came a voice from behind him as he laid his head to the floor to look underneath a filing cabinet. He glanced up, and saw a woman standing over him, who was most definitely not Cindy.

"Er, yeah..." he said, his voice catching in his throat.

She was tall, and had big, dark blonde hair, swept up into a perfectly coifed French knot. "Hi, I'm Alison..." she said, flashing him a set of sparkling white teeth.

"Hi, I'm Doug Ross," Doug responded. Alison straightened herself, and he noticed that she was slim, but with large breasts that were clinging to an unfeasibly tight T-shirt. She twisted slightly, showing off her figure.

"Can I help you find it?" she suggested, stepping back on her high heels. Doug said nothing, but she took that as an affirmative, and started searching, repeatedly bending over so that her hips and bottom were outlined by her tight pencil skirt. Doug felt distinctly uneasy. It was happening again, he thought. Suddenly, Cindy arrived as his saviour. "Found them!" she yelled from down the corridor, jogging along as fast as her little legs would carry her. Doug turned away from Alison, and grinned at Cindy.

"Where were they?"

"They'd slipped out just outside Moro's office... I can't have been paying attention."

It was then that she noticed Alison standing close beside Doug, and also, saw his look of clear agitation. "Hello... and you are?" she asked, staring hard at Alison.

"I'm Alison Weymouth..." she said, but now looked less than confident.

"Oh, I'm Cindy Ross," Cindy smiled graciously, emphasising the 'Ross'. Alison looked away, then grinned at Doug.

"Well I guess I'll see you around then,"

"Yeah, I'm sure we will..." Cindy called after her as she walked off quickly and haughtily.

When she had gone, Doug grabbed Cindy and pulled her into a hug in the middle of the corridor. "Thank you so much!" he exclaimed. "Mrs. Ross," he added with a chuckle.

"Well, you looked pretty uncomfortable, and I know her, she's a well-documented slapper." Cindy grinned. "I guess sometimes I am worth having around..."

"Always." Doug replied honestly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They're all out to get you, once again
They're all out to get you...
Here they come again
Here they come again...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Carol spent her morning being lazy. She had felt a little ill on getting up, so had solved the problem by going straight back to bed again. After dozing for a few hours longer, she scolded herself for being idle, and rose and dressed. She pottered around the house, tidying and vacuuming, but came to the basement. It ought to be tidied, she thought, if only to discourage the spiders from taking up roost. She walked down the few steps, and then, wished she hadn't. There, lined up along the far wall, were the boxes, crates and bags of his belongings. She had forgotten he'd left them there, with the intention of coming back some time to pick them up.

She stared. It was him, his whole life stood in boxes before her, each one lightly coated with dust, each one holding a thousand different memories. Without thinking, she opened one, sliding her finger under the sticky tape and snapping it. Inside were all his things, CD's, a few books, mostly medical ones from his school days, a couple of videos, one of which was 9 and a Half Weeks, and some odds and sods she barely recognised.

Sitting herself down on the floor, she tipped the box upside down, emptying its contents at her feet, and discovered even more than had first met her eyes. There were photographs, endless photographs, all stuck haphazardly into a black leather bound album.

She remembered how Doug had never been one for photos. He claimed he never looked good, despite being one of the most photogenic people she knew. When a camera came out, he would duck and hide away, but one day last year, he had totally surprised her by sneaking out into the garden whilst she was sunbathing and taken a picture of her sleeping. She had woken, and screamed at him, and they had chased around the garden like a couple of loopy teenagers. He had taken pictures of her at decidedly inopportune moments during the chase, and then, used an entire roll of film that night, snapping randomly, as if he were trying out a new toy.

He had never shown her the photographs, in fact, she had doubted whether he had even had them developed. But, as she opened the album, she realised that not only were there the pictures of that day, but also, a hundred more, all of her, or them together. They seemed mostly ones that he had reprinted from other rolls, although some were his or that she had taken.

She flipped through them, smiling to herself. There were sides to Doug she had barely known, she thought regretfully, and now, she would never discover them. Feeling lousy, and thoroughly depressed, she went back upstairs, having tidied nothing, and sat in the sitting-room, eating chocolate and watching dull afternoon television.

After a while, she grew tired of the monotony and began thinking

about what Mark had said to her the other day. 'Call him,' he had practically ordered. 'It'll make you feel better.' On a whim, she picked up the telephone and dialed the work number Doug had left for her.

"Hello, this is Doctor Ross's office," came a female voice at the end of the telephone. Carol faltered.

"Er, erm, is Doug in?" she said slowly, realising after she'd said the words that she shouldn't have called him 'Doug'. There was a strange pause on the other end, and Carol's mind went into overload.

"No, I'm afraid he's unavailable at the moment. Who is this, please?"

"Oh, no, it, it doesn't matter. I'll call back later." Carol quickly put the phone down. She'd just spoken to Doug's latest thing. She clutched. No secretary would answer the phone like that. Carol burst into irrational tears, curling up on the sofa in embarrassment and disbelief. All those thoughts she had been thinking just days earlier had been premonitions, and now, they were reality.

All she wanted was for them to be back together again, she didn't want to share him with another. She wanted him to hold her tightly and tell her he was home to stay, and that he would never leave her again. He'd said those words before, in his sober moments, but not even sobriety had been enough to keep him in Chicago. If only she could talk to him, and ask him what was going on. If she knew, then she could react. But now, not knowing, she was stuck in a limbo, and flexed to the point of pain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Insecure...
What you gonna do?
Feel so small, they could step on you
Called you up...
Answermachine
When the human touch
Is what I need, what I need
What I need, what I need
What I need, what I need
Is you (what I need)
Is you (what I need)
If you let me talk (ooh hoo)
If you let me talk (ooh hoo)
To you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Doug wandered back into his office, eating his sandwich noisily. "Eurgh," Cindy moaned as he picked out a piece of onion and flung it in the wastebin. "Why can't you eat it? You're just like my kids."

"I don't want bad breath," he told her.

"So you're gonna be kissing her tonight, then?!" Cindy asked hopefully. "Oh, Doug, thank the Lord! You're finally seeing sense!" Doug stared at her, his mouth half full.

"Only in my dreams..." he said. Cindy shrugged,

"Had a feeling it might be," She leaned back in her chair and watched him ramble around the room, picking up things, inspecting them and then putting them back. "Oh, I have had the strangest phonecall for you just ten minutes ago..." she said.

Doug raised his eyebrows, "Yeah?"

"Yeah, it was a woman. She didn't tell me her name, or number, called you by your first name and then she just hung up after I asked her if she wanted to leave her name. It sounded like a long-distance call."

Doug stopped eating in mid-mouthful and swallowed. "It will have been..." he paused. "Oh, why didn't she leave a message?" He asked the ceiling.

"I don't know. Very weird, I tell you." Doug shook his head in despair, and went back into his office.

A thousand miles away, Carol was standing in the supermarket trying to decide what bottle of wine to buy Elizabeth for tonight. Doug had always done the alcohol shopping, and usually done it well, she, on the other hand, was not renowned for her tasteful choices. Elizabeth had rung shortly after she had called Doug's office, and her invitation to have a take-out with her and Mark had been a welcome opportunity to get out of the house. She doubted she could have remained sane if she had stayed in and let her mind pick the telephone call to pieces.

She held up two bottles, a South Australian white, and a French red, studying the labels for the tenth time. A man was down the row from her, tucking bottles under his arms, clearly understanding what he was doing. Half-tempted to ask for help, Carol glanced around. There were no attendants in the vicinity, so she turned back to staring at the labels.

"Have the white..." came a voice from behind her. Carol spun on her heel, almost dropping the bottles and gasped. The man who had been down the row was standing less than a foot behind her, smiling. She recovered herself, and then looked closer at the white wine.

"Are you sure?"

"100%," he said. "It's a nice round-bodied wine... not too dry, not too sweet. I'm sure you'll like it."

"Well, it's not for me," Carol explained, putting the red bottle back on the shelf. "It's for a friend. We're having a night in."

"Very nice choice then. I certainly wouldn't object if someone bought me that."

He was a good looking man, with cropped black hair and tanned skin. She could just make out his arm muscles and pecs underneath his T-shirt. He stood at around six foot, and he had a very enticing smile, one that made her skin crawl. "You're not a woman, though," said Carol, feeling herself smiling back at him.

"Not the last time I looked, no," he chuckled. "But, I doubt it will make a difference. Epicures come in both sexes."

"Elizabeth is English," Carol said, as if that offered an explanation.

The man flicked his head, in the same manner Doug would do, and bobbed his dark eyebrows. "It's not too expensive, though, is it?" Carol asked, returning her eyes to the bottle. "I mean, she's one of my best friends, but..." She stopped herself. Why was she talking like this to a stranger?

"But what?" he prompted. He had changed positions, and was now standing beside her, holding his gaze on her face, intense, smouldering. Carol swallowed.

"But, I think I ought to be going... if you think this is the right choice...?" The man nodded, obviously mildly stunned that she was brushing him off. "Thank you for your help," she added, and headed for the tills.

What was that, she thought as she walked out of the supermarket. I've just been hit upon. She smiled, feeling strangely confident. It had not happened for a long time, and she felt quite proud of herself, especially considering she was not wearing any make-up and had on only jeans and a shirt. But, then, a powerful punch of guilt hammered into her stomach. Doug, it said. She tried to push the thought from her mind, but it would not go. Despite what she had interpreted of the phone call, the words Elizabeth had said to her the other day kept ringing back at her. 'Doug is in love with you, he's not going to be throwing you away that quickly...' Not that quickly, not while she still needed him. She would not throw away what she held dear, not that quickly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They're all out to get you, once again
They're all out to get you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The End.