Wonderful Things

Summary: Carol has a big decision to make, while Doug tries to cope without her in Portland.



The show ER, and all characters and situations borrowed from it, are property of Constant-C, NBC, Warner Brothers, etc. This fanfiction is for entertainment only, and no money is made from it. The story contains graphic scenes and words which may offend some readers, and as such, it is not appropriate for children under 18. This story is not to be archived or distributed without the permission of the author.

Stories in the series can be found in chronological order at:

http://members.tripod.com/~maraldo/jordan.html
http://www.oocities.org/TelevisionCity/Studio/5437/jordan.htm
http://members.tripod.com/~erfanfic/jordan.html
and at:
http://www.jsentertainment.com/gilbert/terffa/

Stories in the series:
A Clean Break; Stages of Ending; Retribution; Covenant; Tap-dance; Free Falling; Blink of an Eye; Vivisection; Keepsakes; In the Steam; Through the Night; Cornerstone; Domesticity; Caretaker; To CH; The Empty Space; Tenderhearted; Intoxicated; The Present; Summit; The Harbor, Part I; The Harbor, Part II; Expectations; Joint Venture; Kiss of Life; Residuum; Aftermath; Letters Never Sent; Wonderful Things

My thanks to the four ladies who read and reread this story, providing encouragement and comments.

Wonderful Things
by Jordan
jturner36@juno.com

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Late in the summer
When the cottonwood dies
The fields are on fire
With green bottleflies
And I'm still seeing reflections
Of me in your eyes
And why did you leave
Last summer?
- Dan Fogelberg
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alone in the dim light of dawn, she had all the time in the world to remember things and she chose to remember the happy things. The feel of his hand when it grasped hers. His laugh late at night. The way he gazed at her when he thought she wasn't looking. That lazy morning sometime after Christmas when Doug brought juice and bagels back to bed and then made love to her snuggled deeply under the comforter.  Afterward, he was behind her, breathing softly, satisfied. She reached back to him, stroking his hair.

"Have a good time, did you Doug?" she asked playfully.

He put his arm around her, drawing her closer to him, not wanting their closeness to end. "Yes, I did. I always do, with you. You always feel good."

"Smart thing to say right about now," she teased.

"Well, I have a long list of appropriate lines and sentiments. Kinda like the 'Hallmark Cards' of men." Carol laughed deeply, causing him to laugh as well. "Hey, you. See this, right here?" Doug gently tickled her abdomen.

She giggled. "Yeah?"

"Right here. You just wait, you'll see."

Carol turned to kiss him, smiling, so happy. "What will I see?"

Doug grinned back. "Wonderful things are going to happen for us, right there. You just wait."

She lifted an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Really," he whispered, assuring her.

Now, only a few months later, she huddled under that same comforter, gaining so little warmth from it. Thinking. Not knowing what to expect next.

It was the same as it had been for months on end. The calendar had loomed, the days were mentally crossed off, and then she waited. Her breasts were tender, just as before. Her lower back ached, she felt bloated and irritable. Just as before. Everything was just as it had been before.

Except it was so different.

The days followed, one after the other, surpassing the twenty-eighth, to the thirtieth, the thirty-second. The soreness in her breasts had increased; she had recoiled in pain when Kerry inadvertently banged against the side of her breast in trauma. The backache persisted. Her

mood worsened. She hardly slept at nights; between getting up and using the bathroom and insomnia, she generally just dozed in front of the television.

Finally, nausea, queasiness. Then, the headaches began.

She'd go to the rest room every hour, waiting for her period to begin. Willing it to start.

On the thirty-fifth day Carol came home from work and walked automatically into the bathroom. She searched the cabinet under the sink and found the Walgreen's bag that she'd thrown there at the end of the summer. She opened the box, disregarding the instructions about first-morning urine, read the directions, and waited. The box said five minutes.

She knew her answer in two.

The rest of the night was spent fingering the paper with his phone number on it, wondering if she should call him. Knowing he would want to know and that if he did, it would complicate everything further.

*****

Doug walked off the court, sweaty and spent, but satisfied that he'd been able to release some of his frustration by playing basketball.  He'd worked his way into a group of guys who played almost every day, and they were friendly and competitive, too, so he enjoyed himself. It was about the only enjoyment he'd gotten since he moved to Portland.

Making his way past the myriad of machines, he saw a familiar face on a fit, muscled body working on a treadmill. He smiled and walked over, knowing she'd welcome him.

"You've worked up quite a sweat," he teased.

"Glow. Women glow," she panted back, grinning.

He shook his head in mock disgust. "Nope. Nothing glowing about that."

"Thanks, you do wonders for my self esteem. Isn't there some saying about the pot calling the kettle black?" He nodded, agreeing. "So," she asked, "what's with the beard?"

Doug ran his hands over his face. "I dunno, I didn't shave for a couple of days and now, I dunno, here it is. Think I should keep it?"

"Hmm, I haven't made my mind up about it yet," she said, studying him.

"Well, please be sure to let me know," he said sarcastically.

Beth smiled back. "How was L.A.?"

"It was okay. Hostile group, but they settled down once we started talking."

Beth took a long drink of water. "Good. I have a bunch of papers for you before you go to Seattle."

"I'll pick them up Monday before I leave."

"Okay. See you, then."

Doug nodded and turned to walk away, but stopped. "Hey...you want to go out, get a bite to eat? After you shower, of course...." He smiled.

"Oh, thanks, I'd love to, but I have a date tonight."

Doug backed off, feeling uneasy. "Oh, great, that's great."

"Yeah. Real estate executive."

"Good, well that's good."

She'd somehow inadvertently hurt him, she knew. "Hey, but we can do it another time," Beth assured him.

"Oh, yeah, that's good. Have a good time. See ya."

Beth watched as he walked away, wondering what he was holding inside of him that was so painful.

Doug didn't even stop for dinner, feeling too preoccupied to eat. He took a nap once he got home, then woke up and picked at something in the refrigerator, finally making a conscious decision to drink his way out of his misery.

He sat staring out the window as the evening wore on, sucking down the last of the bourbon in his glass, silently cursing the rain, cursing his apartment. Angry and bitter that he was so alone. No calls from Carol, no calls from Mark. His good friend Mark hadn't even bothered to see how he was getting along.

It was as if he'd never existed in their lives.

He kept thinking back to that last night with her. She was so passionate, so aggressive at first. Fiery. Using words he'd rarely heard from her. Coarse, rough words. Even on their last night together, she was already trying to become distant, to protect her heart. But he forced her to open herself to him by making love to her on his terms, with his own brand of gentleness. He indulged himself with the taste of her. The sweetness of her mouth, her perfumed skin charmed him, the musky scent of her sexuality aroused him. Loving her so completely that she was left totally exhausted.

And so was he.

He spent his time now remembering that feeling of happiness, of contentment. Of how she felt in his arms, in his life. Her laughter filling his ears, her practical nature reining him in. The warmth of her body, the feel of her skin against his. It was the softest skin he'd ever touched. She was the one woman who was his fantasy, his soulmate, his lover, his reality. His life partner. His best friend.

He ached for her.

Doug walked back into the kitchen and poured himself another drink. He realized with some amazement that he hadn't been this drunk in years. Carol would disapprove, he knew. He had stopped boozing long ago, wanting to straighten out his life. Wanting to win her approval. Wanting her. He would do anything for her. Anything but stay in Chicago where he'd made a mess of his life, and of hers.

He reached for the phone several times during that evening, but stopped short. No calls, she had said. Give it some time. A trial separation. He finally kept his hand away from the telephone by keeping a glass in it. By the time he'd had his fourth, he was unbelievably drunk. And not any less miserable. He looked up at the clock. It was just after 9 p.m. That would make it after 11 at home. He picked up the phone and dialed their...her...number. One ring. Two. Four. Her voice. Her voice on the answering machine. "We're not in...."

Was there a "we" anymore?

He hung up.

The doorbell rang and for a moment, he considered not answering it. It was probably a mistake, someone looking for someone else. But it rang again and Doug strained to get up out of the recliner, then answered the door.

"Hey, Beth. What are you doing here?"

Beth was startled at his appearance. His eyes were bloodshot, he looked so unkempt. And he reeked of liquor.

"I came to drop these contracts off. I thought I'd save you the trip into the office." She wanted to help him save face, so she did not tell him that she was worried about him and looked for an excuse to stop by.

"Oh. Sure." Doug reached out and took the papers from her. "You wanna come in?"

"I don't want to interrupt anything...."

"You're not interrupting a thing. Come on in." He smiled at her and held the door open wide.

She walked into the familiar apartment, which had been her temporary home when she first came to Portland.

"Can I...do you want a drink? Some bourbon?"

"No, thanks, I had enough at dinner."

"How was your date?" he asked.

"It was great. He is a nice guy, we get along."

Doug nodded. "Can I get you a Coke or something?"

"Yeah, that'd be good." She sat down as he went into the kitchen to get her drink, refilling his own as well.

*****

When had it happened? On which night? She cherished her memory of their time together, their physical closeness before he left. His desire was so strong, so like him, this man who spoke through his lovemaking, whose tender words were trapped within his heart until he had her in his embrace.

A quick glance at the calendar made her suspect that it would most likely have been the night before he left for good. He had never stopped kissing her when they were intimate that last night; his lips, his mouth, even his teeth ravished her. His body consumed hers, tenderly demanding everything she could give him then, telling her all she needed to know through its reaction to her, yet she knew that he struggled to keep silent, tried to conceal his sorrow and his grief inside him. How fitting, she thought, that Doug's child would be conceived when he was most defenseless, most vulnerable. Most like the Doug she knew; this quiet, yet impassioned man who wore his heart on his sleeve.

Carol sat alone that Saturday morning after another sleepless night, afraid to think about the future. If she called him...man, if she called him. He won't come back to live here, she thought. He is starting all over again in Portland and if he knew, he'd be even more conflicted.  Yet Carol knew he would never forgive her for not calling with the news. How would he react? "I'm pregnant, Doug." And then what?  Please come back, don't leave me like this, because I'm terrified of this responsibility, I can't do it alone. I wanted to do it with you.  Carol simply did not know what to do.

Had it been the same for her, for the mother of his son? He was so young, just finishing med school. Had he been passionate, then, with her? Had he loved her? She sighed. It was excruciatingly painful for Carol at times, realizing that there would be no "firsts" with this man: not the first girlfriend, not the first lover. Not even the first woman to carry his child. He'd heard this news before, albeit years ago, from another woman, who called to say simply, "You have a son." And, why hadn't the woman told him right away? Why did Doug have to find out after the fact?

And what if Carol did the same thing?

What would her life have been like if she hadn't succumbed to him, to the promise of excitement and passion he held out to her? No, it would have been futile, she knew. They were destined to be together, even if not forever. There had been so many nights years ago when she'd gone against every bit of her good sense and made love to him, kissing his neck, his face, breathing in that special smell of him, torturing herself knowing that she was one of many who shared him. Knowing that every moment with him was borrowed time. How right she'd been, she knew, to realize it even back then.

Now, she thought, she had a decision to make. A decision for herself, by herself. Her thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell. Hauling herself off the sofa, she answered the door to a friendly face.

"Good morning. Care for company?"

Carol smiled broadly. "How did you find me?"

"Not hard, I asked Mark."

"Well, come in! Hey, did you try calling me last night?"

"No, I didn't," Elizabeth replied.

"Oh. I just, I was in the bathroom and someone called, but they didn't leave a message."

Elizabeth entered the house and looked around. "My, what a charming place you have here! How long have you lived here?" She walked around, taking it all in.

"A little over three years."

"Well, I can see why you chose this house," Elizabeth commented.

Carol laughed. "Oh, man, you wouldn't have said that if you'd seen it back then. We've done a lot of work on it."

"You and Doug?"

Carol nodded. "Yeah. Wanna see pictures over a cup of coffee?"

"Absolutely!"

The two women bent over Carol's photo album, Elizabeth laughing at the state of the house beforehand, likening it to London during The Blitz. Carol then took Elizabeth on a short tour, pointing out all the work that they'd done.

"You and Doug have made a lovely home for yourselves here, Carol."

"That's the one thing that...he always said it really felt like home to him." Carol nodded, looking around once more.

"I take it this was not the infamous kitchen floor you mentioned to Anna and me?" Elizabeth chided her.

"I forgot I even told you. No, this wasn't the floor, that was in my old apartment. Our first date."

Elizabeth smiled warmly. "So, where are you going to put the cot?

Carol shook her head, confused. "The cot?"

"Yes, for the baby."

"Oh. You mean the crib?"

"Yes, I suppose so."

Carol sighed and looked away. "I don't know that I am."

"I see. Are you considering an abortion?"

Carol hadn't even wanted to think of the word, and now hearing it made her shudder inside. "I don't know. I don't know."

"Do you think that kind of decision should be made alone?"

"I AM alone, Elizabeth. It's my decision."

Elizabeth looked at her pointedly. "You don't have to make this decision alone, though. Unless of course you're afraid that he'd talk you out of it. Are you?"

"I'm not afraid he'd talk me out of it. I'm just afraid."

"Carol, granted, I don't know Doug well, but really, how can you be afraid? It's obvious he loves you very much."

Carol nodded in reply. "I know."

"I mean, you've known him quite some time, haven't you?"

"Yeah. Like...more than seven years," Carol said, realizing how long he'd been a part of her life.

"Did you meet in the hospital?"

Carol grinned to herself. "Yeah, we did."

"Was he as dashing then as he is now?"

Carol burst into laughter. "Oh, yes, dashing was an accurate description of him back then, Elizabeth."

The two women shared a knowing look, but then Carol shook her head and quickly changed the subject. Elizabeth perceptively went with her, knowing the pain she was feeling. They talked about work and England and the difficult year Elizabeth was having, and just as it was approaching lunch time, Carol stifled a yawn.

"Oh, I fear I've overstayed my welcome, Carol, I'd best be going."

Carol recovered, not wanting to offend Elizabeth. "No, no, not at all.

I'm glad you came, really."

"We'll do it again. You go sit down, relax, enjoy your day off. I'll see you at work."

Carol walked Elizabeth to the door and they shared a hug. "Thanks for coming over."

"It was my pleasure."

Closing the door after her, Carol went straight for the couch and tried to nap, but her mind was working, thinking about Doug, about meeting him that first day. How they'd been immediately attracted to each other, and how hard she'd fought to stay away from him.

*****

The E.R. was quiet that morning, which usually bothered her, but today, she welcomed the solitude. Carol was generally introspective, but lately it had bordered on obsessive as she spent a great deal of time analyzing her life. Her new position as charge nurse was fun and challenging, although she struggled to stand up to the doctors who strode past her desk, barking orders. Having completed her Masters degree some months back, she was ready for the challenge medically; professionally, however, this was the final obstacle for her to overcome, the feeling of inadequacy, of being second-best as she compared herself against the sea of medical students who made their way in and out of the E.R., stopping long enough to impress various residents, then moving on to bigger and better things. Carol wondered sometimes if they looked down at her because she was "just a nurse."  More than anything, she wanted to be taken seriously by the doctors at the hospital.

To that end, she dedicated herself to being the best charge nurse she could be, to be the kind of nurse every doctor wanted to have with them in a trauma. The kind of nurse who could anticipate the needs of the doctor, and of the patient, who would walk away from a procedure knowing that she had given the best of care. While others at the hospital had seen her abilities and slowly accepted her position of authority, Carol never quite felt comfortable with it. She never gained that confidence in herself, never felt like she was good enough to earn the respect of other professionals. Even in her relationship with men, she was willing to accept far less than she should have, and made excuses for every transgression that occurred. It was a pattern of behavior and lack of self-confidence that she couldn't quite shake.

So, in the quiet of the morning on Monday, Carol took a deep breath and walked from the eerily serene E.R. into chatter of the lounge where she had scheduled a nurses' meeting. She had difficulty at first getting everyone's attention.

"Everyone? Good morning. Guys. GUYS! Please, we need to get going today, I've got tons to do."

The nurses finally looked up and Carol cleared her throat and began.  "Good morning. We have a few things to go over so I'll make this short and sweet. First: We filed an informal complaint against the new students who were leaving their notes for us to post...."

"Yeah," Lydia wisecracked, "as informal as a swift kick and a smack in the ass to the Chief Resident." Soft laughter filled the air.

Carol smiled. "Now, you know that's not true. We discussed it over coffee. I paid. From now on, third years and first year residents post their own notes to the chart. End of discussion." Carol bowed playfully to the smattering of applause. "Second, please remember Mike Traver's research study and direct all patients with renal failure to his attention. He needs help and I've told him we'll be more than happy to oblige." Heads nodded, agreeing. "Finally, remember we have a new pediatric resident joining us on a fellowship starting today. I know in the past we've had all the E.R. docs handle pediatrics, but from now on, the majority of pediatric cases should go to him. Okay?"

"This pediatrician have a name?" Haleh asked.

"Um, hang on." Carol thumbed through her notes. "Dr. Douglas Ross.    Okay, finally, Nurse of the Month." The nurses groaned and Carol put her hands on her hips. "Hey, guys, come on. If we don't recognize good work when we see it, God knows no one else will. Okay, this month's winner was recognized by the E.R. nominating committee...."

"Who's on this committee?" Malik interrupted.

"Me," Carol grinned. "Anyway, this month's winner was singled out for her dedication to accuracy. This nurse had the most complete history forms, including vital allergy information, for the past month and we should all strive to meet her standards. So, without further ado, congratulations Conni Oligario." Conni laughed and stood up, accepting the applause.

"Conni, we have a $25 gift certificate to Maggiano's for you."

"Thank you, thank you," Conni said, walking up to take the proffered envelope.

"Okay, guys, that's it, have a good shift and remember to fill out those requisition forms before the end of the month...." Carol began, but the group had begun to disperse.

Carol walked out and caught the eye of a tall, thin, balding doctor.  They smiled and met at the admissions desk. Carol had seen lots of doctors come and go. Generally, they were pleasant, but detached. The newest resident, Mark Greene, was different. He'd come to the hospital and set the department on its ear. He was a sound diagnostician, smart, kind, if not a bit stiff. But Carol found a friend and confidante in Mark, and he in her. He'd talk about his little girl, Rachel, and his wife, Jennifer with such love and pride in his voice. And a little bit of regret that he never got to see them.

"Morning, Mark."

"Hey, Carol," Mark began, but they were immediately interrupted.

"Carol?" Timmy, the desk clerk, was calling.

"Yeah?"

"Paramedics on their way in. Multi-vehicle MVA, family in a minivan.  Burns, three critical, including one baby, six months."

"How many all together?"

"Four."

"Okay, Timmy."

Carol and Mark began barking orders, preparing for the incoming trauma. Just then, Carol noticed a man walking out of the lounge. Must be Dr. Ross, she thought. Early thirties, dark hair and eyes. Nice smile.  Nice everything. He walked over to the admissions desk and she could see him introduce himself to Timmy, who shook his hand and then produced several phone messages. Mark then went over to talk to him. It was obvious to Carol that they'd met before, maybe when she was in the meeting.

Carol walked into trauma one and began preparing for the baby. She heard the commotion as the paramedics slammed through the door and as she made her way out of the room, they brought the gurney in with the six-month-old into trauma one, with the new guy at the head.

"Okay, I need a pediatric intubation tray, get a blood gas, type and cross, please."

The assembled troops hustled, following orders, and Carol brought the tray to the doctor.

"Thanks," he said without looking up. He started intubating the baby, but was having some difficulty. "There's some vocal chord edema here, I can't get through."

"You want a crike tray?" Carol asked.

"Not yet. Not yet." The doctor forged ahead, talking himself through it. "Easy, easy. C'mon, sweetheart, let me in there." After intense concentration, he'd successfully intubated her. "Okay, I'm in. Bag her," he said, listening to her chest to be sure he'd placed the tube correctly.

He was interrupted by Mark, who called him from the next room. "Doug. Doug! We need you. Carol, you, too."

"Okay, hyperventilate, and call me if she gets dusky." Doug walked into the next room. "What's up?"

"I can't get this. You wanna give it a try?" Yet another intubation, this time a three-year-old boy. "Okay, here we go." Doug gloved up and took the intubation tube that Carol offered. "Thanks." He looked up and stopped momentarily. How had he missed seeing this beautiful woman? He turned back to his work, feeling somehow distracted by her.  Concentrate, Doug. "Cricoid pressure, please?" Carol obliged and again, Doug was able to intubate the child. "Okay, there you go."

When the children were stabilized, they were moved up to the emergency room for exploratory surgery. After Doug escorted the baby to the elevator, he turned around and there she was, stripping off her gloves. Young woman, maybe mid-twenties. Oh, man, he thought. Luscious. He walked over to introduce himself.

"Nice work in there. Hi. I'm Doug Ross."

She smiled and offered her hand. "Carol Hathaway."

He grasped it firmly, grinning widely. "What kind of a name is 'Hathaway'?"

"A last name," she teased, her eyes full of mirth, amused at her own joke. "Nice to meet you, Dr. Ross." And as she walked away, she couldn't have guessed how intrigued he was.

In fact, for a long time Carol had no idea for a while that he was interested. She watched as phone messages piled up for him, as he made plans to be with a different woman every night. The hospital was alive with gossip about him, and he became a legendary womanizer, picking and choosing among the willing staff, smitten by his charm and attractiveness.

One day, when Carol was in a nurses meeting, she snapped to attention when she overheard a conversation between two pediatric nurses.

"So, how was your date with that new pediatrician?" the blond one asked the brunette.

"Fine, not that it's any of your business," her friend teasingly replied.

"C'mon, details! I want details!"

The brunette leaned over, speaking confidentially. "Let's just say that what you've heard is true."

"You didn't!"

"Oh, but I did. I died and went to heaven."

"Yeah, but from what I hear, there's hell to pay afterward. He'll dump you, sweetie, just like he's dumped all the rest."

The brunette nurse shrugged. "Maybe. We'll see."

"You'll see all right."

Then the meeting started, but Carol didn't hear a word. She was astounded and wanted to know more. And, for some reason she was mildly jealous.

As for Doug, he enjoyed this new playing field and the constant stream of women who inhabited his little world. Funny, though, that the one woman he wanted most of all was the one who was the hardest to snag.  He knew she was dating someone named James, but even so, he thought he had picked up on something. Something electric and mysterious. Something about Carol Hathaway that drew him to her constantly.

One day he found himself without much to do and took a walk while he thought about things. About her. He wandered around the hospital and ended up taking the stairs marked "Rooftop Access." The door was already ajar, so he pushed it open and walked to the edge of the building, looking down at the traffic lurching on the street below, then up at the buildings that surrounded the hospital.

Then, he saw her. She was smiling, in the arms of a man just a little taller than she was with blond hair. Must be James, Doug speculated.  He tried to look away, knowing he should leave to give them privacy, but he could not and he saw James pull Carol close, then kiss her. It was a long, passionate kiss, and Doug watched as her body went limp, as she clung to him, pulling his hips into hers. The man stopped for a moment to gaze at her, then kissed her cheek, her chin as Carol bared her neck to him, closing her eyes, opening her mouth, her arousal plain as day.


Doug hid in the shadows, trapped, wanting to leave then, but knowing if he did, he'd be seen. He waited, watching, an unwilling voyeur, as the man's hands groped her slim body, as Carol's ardor visibly increased. Finally, mercifully, her beeper went off and Carol reluctantly pulled away from James and they walked through the door and down the stairs.

Doug remained behind, daydreaming. It was then that he began to fantasize about her in earnest and he knew he wouldn't rest until he had her in his arms.

He thought he'd seen the last of her that day, but as chance would have it, he got a long eyeful of her later on in the lounge. She was finished with work, getting ready to go out. He was on the couch, dozing, when he heard someone walk in. Doug feigned sleep just so he could watch her with her guard down as she quietly opened her locker. He noticed that she had changed in the bathroom and was wearing a deep blue sweater over a pair of tight jeans. Her body would feel soft, he thought, it would yield so willingly to his desire. The skin of her face was radiant, so fair. Her cheeks were flushed, giving her an almost girlish look. Eyes that looked like brown suede were framed with curly lashes that almost swept over her cheeks. She peered into a mirror in her locker and freshened her lipstick, turning them from a light pink to a deep red. She had the kind of lips a man dreamed about -- that Doug loved -- soft-looking, full. That mouth would be sweet, he thought, pressed against my own.

She was lovely, beautiful to look at, but he knew what it was that he'd found most compelling: It was that hair. She turned her back to him as her hands reached behind her head and she began undoing her braid. Hair once restrained became wild and free; she bent over, giving him the most delicious view of her derriere, and she shook her head, fluffing her hair with her fingers, parting the curls. When she flipped her head over, he was fascinated; all that hair, wild and loose and curled around her face. What must it be like, he thought, to have it between your fingers, to press your face to it? To feel it against your chest, your neck. To watch it whip wildly in the air. Oh, what he could do if she let him.

She gazed in the mirror to check her make-up and then turned around just in time to catch him staring at her.

Carol jumped and her hand flew to her chest. "Oh! God, you scared me!"

"I didn't mean to," he said quietly. He kept staring and she felt self-conscious, as though she'd been on display.

"You should have said something," she complained. "I didn't know you were there."

"I guess maybe I should have. You look nice. Hot date tonight?"

Carol smiled. "Yes, I have a date. Good night, Doctor." Turning on her heels, she walked past him as Doug's eyes followed her. The perfume that lingered in the air stirred his senses and he sat there, motionless, until Mark walked in.

"Hey, Doug."

"Hi, Mark. What are you still doin' here, don't you have a family to go home to?" Doug asked.

"Paperwork."

"So...what can you tell me about this Carol Hathaway?"

Mark laughed knowingly. "Forget it, Doug. She's as no-nonsense as they come. Anyway, she's dating a guy named James, an ICU nurse."

"Hm. You see no-nonsense, I see...possibilities. Great possibilities."

"Well, you'll die trying, Doug."

"Yeah," he agreed, speaking softly, "but what a way to die."

Mark laughed until he looked at Doug's face. It was serious.

Doug and Carol danced a subtle little flirtation dance for quite some time, though she would not admit that she was a willing participant.  He made lots of jokes in her presence, always tried to get her to work with him, and spent weeks good-naturedly disparaging James, telling her to dump him. Carol brushed him off, though she adored the attention. She spent many nights thinking of him, even as she was out with James, wondering what it was about him that she found so irresistible. When their bodies touched, collided in trauma, she could feel his strength underneath and it enticed her.

She really hadn't had a chance to be legitimately close to him until an E.R. staff meeting. The room was packed and she sat toward the rear, on the floor, her back to the wall for support. Doug came in late, as usual, and made his way to her, sitting next to her, smiling. He stretched his legs out and his thigh was pressed against hers, distracting her. Carol could smell his cologne, watched as his fingers tapped his knee. She stole quick little looks at him and felt she'd unravel at any minute, but was unwilling to shift her body to be away from him.

He'd never deliberately touched her, never been physically forward with her, and yet she felt almost aroused just to be in his presence.

The meeting was interrupted when Rolando stuck his head in the room and announced an incoming trauma. The doctors and nurses quickly stood up and rushed out of the room, Doug following Carol. They were separated and Doug found out that no children were involved, so he helped get a room set up for Mark. Carol came rushing in on the side of a gurney, with Mark at the helm, when the patient shifted violently, crushing Carol's arm between the gurney and the doorway, leaving a small gash on her arm.

Mark looked it over quickly. "Carol, go get stitched up. Doug, you take care of it."

Doug searched for an empty room, and finally brought her to curtain area three where he gathered his supplies around him, guiding her to the empty bed.

Doug pulled the table closer to him. "We're going to have to use this bed, there's no other place to stitch you. Sorry."

"I'll bet," she replied sullenly.

"Hey, I wasn't going to say a thing." Doug swabbed the area and prepared the syringe. "This'll sting a bit."

She gave him an exasperated look. "I know. I'm a nurse."

Doug grinned. "Sorry, *Nurse* Hathaway. I just don't like to...sneak up on people."

"Oh, like hell you don't."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, feigning hurt.

"You sneak up on me all the time," she reminded him.

"Well, that's different. It's kinda fun to hear you gasp." He looked up and smiled. "Now, can we get started?"

"Okay." She took a deep breath, trying to relax herself.

"I didn't know you'd have to be injured before you let me get this close to you," he teased her.

"Close and in bed, no less," she volleyed back. "Must be your lucky day."

"True. Though most of them are usually squirming by now."

"What?" Carol stared at him, amazed at his brazen manner.

Doug looked back blankly. "Kids. Toddlers. By the time I have them ready to stitch, it's like stitching worms. They squirm a lot." He smiled wickedly, eyes dancing. "Why, what did you think I meant?"

Carol was speechless, then burst out laughing. She'd fallen for it, she had to admit.

Doug injected the lidocaine around the cut, waiting a moment for it to be numb before he injected it within the wound itself. "That oughta do it." He began stitching, taking great care to do his best. "Might leave a scar, Carol. Sorry."

"That's okay, it's only on my arm."

His voice became smooth. Almost like honey. "Is your skin this soft all over?"

"You have no idea how soft my skin is, Doctor, you have gloves on."

"Sure I know." He raised his eyes and looked at her pointedly. "I can tell. I mean, you can...feel things through latex, right?"

"Do you ever give up?"

"No, I'm generally persistent to a fault," he admitted.

Carol watched him as he concentrated, and was amazed at his gentleness.

"There. Done. I'll send you the bill," he said jokingly.

She smiled gratefully. "Thanks."

"You're welcome, Carol." He held her gaze for a long moment, then looked down, away from her, lest she see what was in his eyes.

The silence enveloped them, but neither seemed uncomfortable in it.

*****

Weeks turned into months and Doug spent his energy chasing women all the while thinking about Carol, who would turn him down time and again. She became somewhat of a challenge to him, being resolute, insisting that she'd heard too much about his dishonest ways to ever get involved with him. But he smiled and said that perhaps he acted that way because he hadn't found the right woman. Carol returned the smile, but remained unconvinced.

Mark had seen the growing attraction and teased her about it on the morning of the annual E.R. banquet.

"Hey, Carol. Are you going to the banquet with anyone? I hear Dr. Ross needs a date."

"Since when did he have trouble finding a date?" Carol remarked. "No, thanks, Mark, I already have a date."

"Who's the lucky guy?"

"Mark!" Carol made a face. "It's James."

"James? I thought that on-again/off-again thing was off."

"No, Mark. It's definitely on."

Mark smiled. "I'm trying to get a baby sitter. And trying to get Jennifer to agree to one night off from studying."

"You gotta hand it to her, Mark, what she's doing is miserable. I know how hard it was getting my masters and working. I can't imagine getting a law degree with a two-year old at home."

"She's doing great. If anyone can do it, it's Jenn."

Carol nodded her agreement and they parted, ready to begin another work day. She was very busy and hadn't had a chance to talk to James at all until the very end, when she called up to ICU.

"Hey, I'm really looking forward to tonight," she said, grinning into the phone.

"Me, too. Listen, though, can I meet you there? I'm going to be later than I thought."

"Oh, I thought we were driving together. Oh. Okay, sure," Carol replied, trying to disguise the hurt in her voice. "I'll just plan on meeting you there." Hanging up, she pouted a moment until she felt Doug just behind her.

"Good morning, Carol."

"Good morning, Doctor."

Doug sighed. "Need a ride tonight?"

"Can I at least have conversations in private without you hovering over me, eavesdropping?"

He smiled mischievously. "I wasn't eavesdropping, I was just standing here."

She shook her head vehemently. "No, I don't need a ride, thanks. Besides, don't you have a date?"

"No, I don't. I'm...between dates."

"Yeah, from what I hear, it's an every other day thing with you," she said, grinning slyly.

"That's not true, either," he protested.

"See you later," she said as she walked away, leaving him behind.

Carol went home, showered and dressed, and took extra care with her make-up. The truth that she hadn't shared with anyone was that things with James were rocky. He'd become more secretive and less loving toward her lately and she was hoping this evening out would smooth things between them. Carol called a cab company and arrived at the banquet hall on time. She saw most of her friends there, but didn't spot James. Well, she reasoned, he said he would be late. Doug was over in the corner, she noticed, talking to a woman in risk management named Sharon. He was close to her, very close, Carol noticed. Good thing, she thought, that I've managed to steer clear of him.

Carol got a drink and sat at a table with Mark and Jennifer and the three of them talked about law school and how difficult it had been for Jennifer. They ate food and drank some more, but Carol had one eye on her watch as she wondered when James would arrive.

"Mark? Can we at least dance one dance tonight?" Jennifer asked.

"You know I hate it, Jenn."

"I know," she smiled, "but I love it."

Carol chimed in, "Mark, be a sport."

"Okay, just this one. Be right back, Carol." As Mark got up, Carol looked around the room and then she saw James. He was with an O.R. tech, a woman he had dated right before he started seeing Carol. She watched as he got closer and closer to Melissa. Carol's heart was pounding and then she was devastated as she realized if James had indeed intended to be with her tonight, he'd forgotten all about it as soon as he saw Melissa in the room. Bending her head over her drink, Carol worked hard not to cry. Just as she felt she was about to lose the battle, she felt a presence behind her.

"May I have this dance?"

Oh, great. Carol knew who it was; the voice was unmistakable. "Not right now."

"Right now seems like the best time." She looked up then and he was smiling. "C'mon. One dance."

"You don't dance."

"You don't know that." He extended his hand and she smiled and stood up, letting him take her to the dance floor. He rested his right hand on her waist while she placed her left hand on his chest. Doug kept a gentlemanly distance between them. Carol looked over at James and Melissa and Doug felt her sigh. "Don't look over there, Carol. Look at me."

She lifted her face to him. "I...I really should be getting home now."

Tears began to form in her eyes and he shook his head.

"No. Don't let it get to you, let's just dance." He was looking down at her and she noticed the heavily fringed eyelashes framing his dark brown eyes. There was no teasing there, but they weren't empty. They were the kind of eyes you could escape into, full of meaning and mystery. He was an enigma; she'd seen him toss women aside as casually as one might change the sheets on a bed, yet here he was, in a sense, rescuing her.

"How did you know?"

"It was all over your face," he replied. "I see what happens around the hospital. I figure you've been dating that guy for a while, what, maybe...six months or so?"

"Um hmm."

"And the girl? She's an old flame?"

"Yup. I don't think he's ever gotten over her. He probably used to think about her even when...." Her voice trailed off, she was getting too personal.

"He's a fool, then," Doug said quietly, "to have you in his arms like that, all for himself, and spend that time thinking about anyone but you." He'd crept closer to her, his arm had snaked its way around her waist and their thighs were touching. He gently pulled her to him, though she didn't allow full contact. Oh, man. If only she would let him go further, if he could pull her close, against his body, if....

Carol knew his game and refused to play.

"Oh, you *do* have some lines, don't you, Doctor?" she said, deflecting his flirtation, stiffening against him, not allowing more.

"It's not a line. And stop calling me 'Doctor.' My name is Doug."

Carol took a deep breath. "Okay. Doug."

They finished the dance and Doug asked if she wanted another drink, but Carol declined. Mark and Jennifer had arrived at the table, exchanging glances, reacting to Carol's demeanor. Carol quickly thanked Doug for the dance and remarked that she was taking a cab home.

"Oh, no, Carol, Mark and I will drive you," Jennifer insisted.

"No, thanks, really, but I hate to cut your evening short. I can take a cab."

Doug cleared his throat. "Carol, I can take you home. I'm sure it's not that far out of my way. I don't mind at all."

Carol shook her head, refusing. "No, really, I don't want to put anyone out...."

Doug smiled. "You're not putting me out. I'm ready to go. Can I drive you home?"

Carol hesitated. Oh, for heaven's sakes, she thought, what are you afraid of? He's not going to attack you in the parking lot. "Well, yeah. Okay. If you're sure."

"I'm sure. Mark, good night, Jennifer, it was nice meeting you." Doug shook her hand and guided Carol to the coat check. He dropped a couple of bills into the dish as a tip and helped her with her coat.

The parking lot was full of potholes and he insisted on bringing the car around to pick her up. She waited, just inside the door, until he drove up.

Carol entered the car and gave him directions to her apartment, casually wondering how many other women had sat in this seat during the past month. Oh, stop, she told herself. Who cares? You're never going to date this guy.

Doug interrupted her thoughts. "I'm sorry about that guy, James."

"Yeah. I should have known. I mean, I think I knew. I just didn't want to admit it. It's our six-month anniversary today. I guess it wasn't meant to last past this."

Doug nodded silently. "Today is my son's birthday."

Carol was taken aback. Where had this come from? "Your son's? I didn't know you were a father."

"No. No, now there's a difference, see? I *have* a son, but I'm not a father."

"Oh." She really didn't know what to say.

"It's probably better for him this way. I mean, I grew up without my dad around. And, look how well I turned out," he said sarcastically.

"Why are you telling me this, Doug?"

"I don't know. Maybe because I don't have anyone else to tell," he wondered aloud.

She dared not pry, and so she remained quiet for the rest of the ride.  Doug pulled up to her apartment, double-parked, and walked her to her inside apartment door.

"There, see? Safe and sound," he announced.

"Thanks, Doug. Thanks. I mean it, I appreciate it," Carol sputtered, uncomfortable having him so close to her door.

"My pleasure. Good night, Carol." He turned and walked down the hall and out the door before she had a chance to respond. Damn, she thought. She was sure he'd want to come in.

And that thought confused her even more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Now the seasons are changing from
Summer to fall
And I've still got that picture
Hung on my wall
And there's so much forgotten
And too much recalled
And why did you lave
At all?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Beth walked around the apartment and came upon a small picture in a frame. It was Doug with a woman, a very pretty, very happy woman. "Is this her?"

Doug walked next to her and took the picture from her and put it back on the shelf. "Yup."

Beth settled down on the couch. "What's her name?" she asked, taking a sip of her Coke.

"Carol."

"Have you been seeing each other for a long time?"

He shrugged, sitting opposite her. "Ah, you know, we went out I guess...we met maybe about seven years ago, we went out for like two years. Then we broke up, but we started seeing each other again in '97."

"That's a long time," Beth noted. "So you've been dating ever since, until you came here?"

"We're living together. We've been living in her house together since last June."

"Were you serious?"

"Very."

Beth waved her hand expressively, waiting for him to tell her more.  "And now?"

"And now, I don't know. I just thought she woulda called by now."

"Why? I mean, I thought you guys had decided not to call."

"Yeah, but she would have called if...I just thought she might call."

"Why would she call, Doug, if you guys decided...."

Doug interrupted her. "In case she was pregnant. In case she needed to tell me. She'd call and tell me."

Beth was totally confused by now. "Why would she be pregnant. You guys aren't married."

Doug looked at her, exasperated. "You don't have to be married to have a baby, Beth."

"Shit, Doug, I know that," she retorted. "I just...I don't understand what you're saying."

Doug was short with her now, a combination of the alcohol and his temper flaring. "We wanted to have a baby. We were trying to have a baby.  She'd call if she were pregnant, she'd call me and let me know. It's been over a month, Beth. So, she hasn't called."

"So...she's not pregnant."

Doug shook his head. "So she won't call."

Beth nodded her head, thinking she understood everything. They sat in silence until Beth saw that there was to be no more discussion to be had. She downed her Coke and got up to put her glass in the sink, stopping to take his as well.

"Enough for one night, hmm?" she asked. He nodded his acquiescence. Beth walked into the kitchen, then came back to Doug, standing over him. "I'm gonna go. Okay?"

"Okay," he said, smiling. "Thanks, Beth."

"Sure. Good night, Doug."

He didn't even notice when she left.

*****

What was it about that last night that occupied their minds, even as they were so far apart? Two conflicted lovers who knew each other so well, waging a silent battle for their own will to prevail. They struggled at first, but it was Doug, finally, whose enticement was too great for her to withstand. He exerted his desire upon her, his love conquered her, and in the end, it was exactly what she had wanted, though she didn't know it at first.

When she extended her hand, he took it and as he entered the bedroom he saw that she had planned for this evening even as he wasn't sure she would. The room was dark save the flickering candle on the night stand, wax so low, almost burned out, giving off the last desperate glow of bright light. The bed was turned down, waiting for them. She left him there for a moment, and when she returned, he saw that she had changed into her nightshirt in the bathroom. Carol did that for him, knowing that undressing her was an integral part of his pleasure.

It did not stay on long. He laid on his side and unbuttoned it slowly, taking time to run his fingers over her skin. "You look beautiful tonight," he said and she smiled, acknowledging the sincerity of his words.

He toyed with her hair, gazed at her. She, however, did not return his gaze. And although he could sense her arousal, her unwillingness to look at him was disturbing. Doug wanted to play, to prolong their evening, but she became assertive and moved on top of him, rushing him.

Carol's eyes remained closed as she lowered herself onto him and then he heard a sweet sound in the back of her throat as she took all of him in. Her thighs flexed, her muscles were visible as she rode him slowly, moving up and down. He was always fascinated with this view of her.

"Hey, Carol," he whispered, wanting her to look at him, but she ignored him. He reached his hands out to stroke her breasts, but she pushed them away. And then, she began to move faster, quicker, again refusing his attempts to hold her. Refusing to look at him.

Doug watched as she crashed her body down upon him, bracing herself against him, her hands on his chest for leverage. "Fuck me, Doug, just fuck me."

She was demanding not that he make love to her, but that he fuck her, that he take her, a difference Doug inherently understood. But he would not appease her. He knew exactly what she was doing: Slowly disengaging herself emotionally, wanting the night to be everything but lovely. Please don't ask me to do this, he thought, I won't. It's our last time. It's my last time. Let it be everything I need it to be.

"Hey, hey. Carol." He took her hips in his hands and eased her off of him.

Breathing hard, she bent down and stared at him, angry, hurt, disillusioned. "Damn you," she whispered.

"Shh...." He pulled her down to him and held her face gently. "Easy." He kissed her face, her eyes so softly, her lips again and again, faint, tender kisses that turned into longer, more passionate ones. Kisses full of pent-up up love and desire, with so much emotion that he left her breathing hard, yet needing more. He intended to inundate her, to leave his mark on her, to force her to respond so she would never forget this last time. So she would miss him as he would her.

Her face was just inches from his, then, her lips were almost swollen, so lovingly bruised by his own. She was barely able to focus on him.  "I could drown in you," she whispered.

He smiled sadly, smoothing the hair away from her eyes. "I want you to."

She was so serious now, so devastated. "Would you save me if I did?"

"No. I'd take you down deeper...to drown with me." He caressed her face with the back of his hand. "Will you drown with me tonight, Carol?"

Her voice failed her; she didn't answer him.

"One last time before I go?" he whispered, his eyes filling.

She turned away from him. "Oh, God. Don't say it like that."

"There's no other way to say it."

"Then don't talk at all."

He stared through the darkness until she looked at him. "I love you, Carol."

Carol closed her eyes once again. "I love you, too," she whispered.

Pulling her back onto him, he kissed her yet again and then he entered her, keeping his hands on her, petting and soothing her. Calming her.  He moved slowly inside of her, gazing up at her, watching her hands massage her breasts, then his joined hers and they explored together. Her eyes were closed, but this time it was not from emotional pain.    She was lost somewhere, taking pleasure from him.

Doug reached out to stroke between her legs as he knew she needed and Carol moaned loudly.

"You like that?" he asked softly.

"Oh, I like that," she replied, with a steamy, sensual quality to her voice that aroused him further.

"Then I won't stop. I want you to come, Carol. I want you to."

But Carol was troubled and try as she might, she could not climax. Doug stilled her at one point, not wanting to come before she did, but Carol moved again, her frustration mounting.

"Oh, Doug, please," she begged.

"What is it?"

"I can't. I can't."

Doug withdrew from her, laying her back, and then covered her with his tongue, licking and taking her into his mouth. Pulling her hips to him, feeling her wetness on his lips. She held onto him and spread her legs widely, wanting more. He had his hands on her thighs, on her bottom, and he could feel her straining, trying, reaching, as he sucked gently and just as she threw her head back and shivered, he shifted his body upward and entered her swiftly, grinding against her. Finally, finally, she was there, moaning and clutching at him. It was then that he let himself go and filled her with his climax, submerged in her sweetness, holding her tightly to him.

But as he held her, he felt her tears. And his heart seized up, frozen. Terrified. Then it was he who disengaged, who turned away from her as he tried to compose himself, as the feeling grew in the pit of his stomach that he would lose her forever.

*****

She'd had time to think things over. Elizabeth's visit the previous Saturday had provoked her to weigh the pros and cons, to try to decide what the best course of action was, but it wasn't until today that things became clearer. Even as she made her decision, she realized that she had never missed him more.

It was now, years later, after the depth of his feelings, the force of his love had fallen down around her, that she knew her true place in his life. In time, she realized that all along, she had been a first for him: The first person he'd ever really opened up to. The only woman he had ever fallen in love with, the first woman he was willing to commit to. The one that he had planned to have a child with.

And so, as she lay in bed that Thursday night in her quiet, lifeless house once again, her thoughts were with him. She worried about him; he, too, was all alone, struggling without her. Carol was sure of that. Visions of Doug returning to his solitary life haunted her day and night. He was miserable, she knew, even without talking to him. She knew also that in reality, she was miserable without him.

Her house. Her life. Her soul. Empty. Yet, filled with him, with his spirit and his love and his warmth in some way.

Her hand went protectively to where this wonderful thing, this most precious part of Doug lay, and she had an incredible surge of love for him, and for his child. It was so strong and deep that it caused her to smile, then laugh out loud, filling the house with the sound of joy that had been missing since he left. She closed her eyes and pulled the covers over her shoulders and said, simply, "Goodnight, my sweetheart."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Standing beside you
Mid-winter day
Hearts beating close
Together

Wishing that we'd found
Some way to make
That moment last
Forever.

Standing silent - laughing -
Breathing steam
Gazing down into a freezing stream...
I saw the face of a child
I saw the face of a child.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The end