Jing-Mei walked into the lounge and was greeted by giggling.
"No fair, your legs are longer." Abby was saying as she and Dave playfully had a foot war on the couch.
"Excuses, excuses." Dave teased.
"Hey guys." Jing-Mei said.
"Hi." Abby said as she and Dave sat up.
"Is there any coffee?" The doctor asked.
"Yeah I just made some." Abby said. "I had too. Dave's almost melted my esophagus."
"Ha-ha. You're funny today." Dave told her.
"I know."
"Oh Dave, Weaver's looking for you. The radiologist tagged one of your x-rays." Jing-Mei said sitting at the table.
"You know which one?" He asked as he stood.
"No. Sorry."
"It's okay. Ladies." Dave said before exiting.
"I hope it's not the little boy in four." Abby commented.
"I thought he was Doug's patient."
"No Doug's busy with a pair of soccer players whose parents keep trying to use the IV stands to bludgeon each other."
"Oh." Jing-Mei nodded. "You and Dave seem to be getting along."
"He's a good guy. My kids love him. I think it's because he speaks their language."
Jing-Mei had to smile at that one.
"He'll make a good dad one day. If he ever finds the right woman."
"You're not that woman?"
"Me and Dave? No." Abby shook her head. "I mean I love him to death but not as anything more then a friend. Even if I did want him like that, he's way too stuck on someone else."
"Yeah?" Jing-Mei strived to keep her voice neutral.
"Uh-huh." Abby nodded. "I think you know her. She's pretty and really smart but she doesn't know a good thing when it drools all over her dress." Abby smiled. "See you later Jing-Mei."
Jing-Mei smiled as Abby left and it wasn't until she had snapped back to reality to work on her charts that she realized that Abby had called her Jing-Mei.
"Hey Abby, there's some guy at the desk asking for you." Carol said as she came into the lounge.
Abby looked up from the list she was making. "A guy?"
"Yeah. Tall, green eyes, blonde hair, and a tan like you had when you first got back."
"Nick." Abby said. "Thanks Carol." Abby got up and left the lounge. She found Nick in chairs. "Talk about the last person I expected to see today."
"Or ever." Nick Malone stood up. "So do I get a hug or are you just gonna stand there?"
Abby hugged him. "What are you doing here?"
"Would you believe I was just in the neighborhood?"
"Hmm... No." Abby shook her head with a smile. "C'mon what are you doing here?"
"Well I was on my way home-"
"Home? You mean Colorado?" Abby interrupted.
"Yeah. Al can we talk alone?"
Abby checked her watch. "I get off in an hour. Wait for me?"
"Sure. I'll be right here."
"Good." Abby smiled again but it didn't quite reach her eyes this time.
"So what's going on?" Abby asked Nick about an hour later up on the roof of the hospital.
"What makes you think something's going on?"
"Because you're going to Colorado and you hate Colorado."
"Who says?"
"You do."
"When?"
"On practically every occasion that the subject of our families and hometowns has come up." Abby leaned against the ledge. "You always said the only reason you'd go back is if someone was dying. Oh God, that's it isn't it? Is it your mother?"
"No. It's not my mother."
"Then who?"
"Me."
"What?" Abby whispered.
"It's stage four pancreatic cancer. All those pains I was having? I finally got them checked out."
"Are they sure?"
"Yeah they're sure."
"Oh God, Nick." Abby whispered before she hugged him. She sniffled as she pulled away. "H-How long?"
"A few months. I just wanted to tell you in person. Not let you hear about it in an email from Ben. I also wanted to say goodbye and apologize for the reaction I had to your resigning."
"You don't have to." Abby said immediately.
"Yeah I do." Nick reached out and cupped her cheek in his hand. "I love you, I hope you know that."
"I know."
"I always thought that John Carter was a damn fool."
"Why? I left him. He didn't leave me."
"He didn't go after you. He let you go. That makes him a fool in my book."
Abby had to smile a little. "What time's your flight?"
"It's at eight but I'm gonna head out now."
"Why?"
"Because I got what I came for. I got to say good-bye."
"Nick."
"Hey it's gonna be okay." Nick said.
"Yeah right."
Nick pulled her in for a hug. "Take care of yourself okay?"
She nodded against his shoulder. "You too."
"I will." He pulled away from her. "Kiss the girls for me. Tell them I'm sorry we didn't get to see each other."
Abby nodded.
"Bye Al." He walked away.
"See ya Nick." Abby said quietly when the door closed.
"Hey anyone seen Abby? Her sitter just called and said she's forty minutes late." Randi said.
John looked up. "She is?"
"I think I saw her get into an elevator before." Dr. Weaver volunteered.
"She was out like a shot when her shift was over." Yosh said.
John headed for the elevators inconspicuously. Pressing the up button he was surprised when the door opened and Abby stepped out.
"There you are."
"That's right. Here I am." Abby said as she started to walk past him towards the lounge. Just her luck that she'd get all the way to her car and realize that she'd forgotten her keys. This was of course after crying for about twenty minutes.
"'Cause your sitter called and said you were late so I was worried."
"Well I'm fine."
John looked at her strangely. "You okay?"
"Fine."
"Then why are your eyes all red?"
"You got me. I was crying."
"Any special reason?" He asked as they entered the lounge.
"Lost a patient." Okay so she was lying but it wasn't Carter's business and she didn't want to share at the moment. All she wanted to do was go home, kiss her girls, curl up on the couch, and cry herself silly.
"Oh. You worked in PER today, right?"
"Yep." Abby shut her locker. "Night Carter."
"Bye."
"Hey Doug." John greeted later that night, as he was getting ready to go home.
"Carter." Doug said, beginning to do the same. The older man yawned.
"Long day?"
"I'm getting too old for this."
"I thought pediatrics kept you young."
"It does. But today I had three puking four-year-olds, one nine-year-old with a severe case of poison ivy, and three teenagers who thought it would be a good idea to dye each other's eyelashes with bleach."
"None of those sound life-threatening."
"They weren't. Cleo and I didn't lose a single patient today. It was a good day."
"Right." John nodded.
"You okay?"
"Fine. See you tomorrow." John closed his locker and headed out of the hospital.
"Night." Doug shook his head. Carter got stranger all the time.
"Knock, knock."
Abby stirred from her position on the couch, where, after having spent most of the afternoon in tears, she'd managed to drift off into a semi-sleep. The girls had been in bed for hours, and even knowing for a fact that if a hoard of elephants were to go for a midnight jog through their bedroom they would sleep through the entire thing, she still felt a little annoyance that someone was round their house at this time of night.
It had been a male's voice but her sleep-raddled mind couldn't quite put a face to it. Rubbing any traces of washed away mascara from her eyes she got up, switched the muted TV off and made her way to open the front door.
Attempting to straighten out her hair, and her clothes -- of which she hadn't managed to change out of since arriving home (her plans for the night had pretty much consisted of: arrive home, put girls to sleep, throw self onto couch and cry self to sleep), she pulled back the latch, pausing before she opened. "Who's there?"
"Pizza guy."
She smiled, opening the door. "Pizza guy who?"
John was holding up a box of pizza, the smell of anchovies and grilled cheese hitting her immediately and reminding her that she hadn't had much to eat all day. Her stomach purred its contentment at the thought of what was inside. She looked up from the box to the rich brown eyes of its owner. This time it was her heart's turn to do a little summersault. "Pizza guy who isn't expecting any tips."
She smiled, arching an eyebrow and folding her arms across her chest. "Was my stomach growling *that* loudly? And do you have any idea what time it is?"
He smiled at her, "Are you going to let me in, or is there some sort of Spanish Inquisition thing you're wanting to do first?"
"Who told you about my Spanish Inquisition thing?"
He grinned. "People have been talking."
Surprising herself, she returned the grin easily. She held his gaze and despite the feeling of wanting to crawl back into a small ball and cry, she took the pre-offered pizza and let him in.
He hesitantly trailed behind her like a lost puppy being allowed in for the night. On the way inside he saw the doorway to Hope and Faith's bedroom and absently wondered about them before continuing behind her.
As if reading his mind, she spoke, "They're asleep."
He chewed on his bottom lip, watching as Abby made a path into the kitchen, putting the pizza box onto the counter before turning to face his awkwardness. He couldn't help but notice how worn out and exhausted she seemed, her eyes damp and surrounded by dark sleepless rings. She smiled in a way she hoped was warm and friendly, settling for innocuous. "You want to go see them?"
His hand found a tired muscle at the back of his neck and he smiled, nodding. "Sure."
Absently returning the nod, as if clarifying this to herself, she opened the box and pulled out a slice of pizza, taking a mouthful as she brushed past him back out into the hallway, switching a light on as she went.
Hesitating on their door, she turned to face him.
He smiled nervously, "I won't be waking them up?"
She grinned. "They're heavy sleepers. I think they must take that from you."
The small reference to what had happened between them increased the awkwardness that was already at dangerously high levels and avoiding his gaze she opened the door slowly, bathing the room in the dim hallway light.
Faith's covers were clinging desperately onto her body, as she lay sprawled out on her bed, arms and legs to the four winds. The soft light framed Hope's face, which was turned towards them from the bed opposite, her chest rising and falling slowly with sleep.
Abby watched as John regarded them both, his brown eyes reflecting the well of emotions that they stirred up deep within him. Looking more lost here in front of his daughter's than she could ever remember seeing him. The guilt of having kept him away from them all these years, of how selfish she had been to him and her daughter's grew within her and she had to look away.
She had been positive that it had been the right thing to do at the time. But her judgment, which had led to months of drinking and bad mistakes in the past, was never something that she trusted.
"Have you told them yet?" He asked gently, breaking her out of her silent reverie. She shook her head softly in response. John sighed, "What have you told them about me?"
She slowly eased their door shut, before shifting her eyes back up to his. Instead of the coldness she had been expecting there, she saw only hurt. She didn't know which was worse. "I told them about you. That you were - are - a doctor, that you loved basketball, baseball, listening to Bob Dylan and jazz music until it drove me crazy."
His eyes were dark, his voice soft. "What did you tell them about us?"
She hesitated. "I told them that I left you, that you didn't leave me. And although... we cared about each other, that everything was just too complicated... and I felt as though I couldn't stay." With those last words she looked back up to find his dark eyes watching her intensely, and she felt as though a distance between them, a coldness between them had begun to thaw.
"I want to be a part of their lives," he said simply, gently. As if he were asking her, instead of telling her.
She nodded softly, "I want you to be a part of our lives too."
A comfortable moment of silence followed and she nodded her head towards the kitchen. "So, you want some coffee or tea or something?"
He smiled warmly, "Decaffeinated coffee would be great."
She returned the smile and led the way back to her kitchen, finding two mugs and putting the kettle on before turning back to face him. He was admiring some of the girls' artwork that was pinned to her fridge with various magnets.
"What's this one supposed to be?"
She grinned. "The gray and blue blob bigger than everything else? That would be me."
He laughed softly turning back to face her, his eyes glittering with humor and affection, "It's a good resemblance. I especially like the yellow stuff for your hair."
She grinned. "That's not my hair, that's the sun."
He laughed again, his eyes meeting hers.
With a pang she suddenly realized how much she'd missed him, really really missed him. That realization caught in her throat and she suddenly had an urge to hug him and tell him just how much she had missed him, tell him a million things, make him a million promises about never leaving again, but most of all she wanted to hear him tell her that he'd missed her too.
They were still locked in a gaze when the kettle began whistling. She reluctantly turned to get it, keeping her gaze low as she poured them both a cup each.
"So... you were just in the neighborhood at eleven o' clock at night and decided to drop by?"
He sighed, taking a sip of the coffee before looking back up at her. "I actually wanted to see how you were doing."
"How I'm doing?"
"You seemed... upset, earlier today."
John's eyes followed her from his position across the room, dark with concern. She looked back down at her coffee and shrugged, her voice quiet, dismissive. "Just a patient."
He nodded with this, his eyes never leaving her. "That's funny, I spoke with Doug today and he couldn't seem to remember losing any patients in Pedes."
Abby turned to face him, his kind dark irises studying hers, pushing hers for answers. She defensively wanted to say 'so what? So what if I lied to you?' It wasn't any of his business to know whether a patient of hers had a hangnail let alone whether or not a close friend of hers was dying, it wasn't his business to know anything about her life anymore.
Instead she shrugged again. "My friend Nick..." she could feel her eyes heating up, feel the back of her throat burning. She bit at her lip. "He's dying."
She wiped the stray tears away with the back of her hands, turning away, embarrassed by this sudden display of emotion in front of him, this sudden loss of control over her emotions. She hated crying in front of anybody, if she cried it was late at night where no one else would see her, where no one else would know.
She felt his arms come up around her, and there was only a moment's hesitation before she turned around to step into his embrace, letting his arms surround her completely as she cried into him. His hands ran in soothing motions across her back, as he spoke softly into her hair, his breath warm on her neck. "I know, I know. I'm here Abby, it's okay."
He held her as she cried, her whole body trembling against his with the force of her hurt. She hadn't cried like this in a long time, deeply, everything bleeding, everything hurting, all the wounds aching. He tells her that it's okay to cry like this. It's okay to feel like this. It's okay, it's okay.
Sometimes all you can do is cry.
And it felt so good to be held by him. To have his arms around her, his hands softly stroking her hair, his sandy, calming voice whispering soothingly into her ear. Pressed tightly against his blue woolen sweater, completely enveloped by his scent, by his presence. The kind of hugs you used to get as a kid that made you feel completely loved and safe and warm.
After a while he wiped her cheeks with the backs of his hands, lifting her chin so that he could look at her, pushing the hair out of her eyes.
She smiled. "I'm sorry."
He shook his head, "Shh, don't apologize." There was a pause that almost grew into something else. "The girls really take after you, y'know."
She grinned. "They have my wonderful sense of dysfunction and pleasant sun-shiny disposition?"
He returned the grin, pressing a soft kiss onto her forehead. "Your sense of humor, your looks, your strength, your passion..."
There was something about being this close with him, both physically and emotionally, that felt both incredibly natural and yet somehow frightening, like anything could happen and she wouldn't have any control over it, wouldn't be able to stop it. "You've only met them a handful of times John..."
He still had his lips pressed to her forehead, and she felt what he said more than heard it. "Oh, but I know their mother."
"Really? You should introduce us sometime."
She could feel him smile. Another pause. "I'm sorry about your friend Nick."
She nodded softly. "Me too."
"You two close?"
"We were... once."
His voice still had that rusty, just-woke-up quality. "I'm sure he knows how much you care for him."
"The way things were left between us... I wouldn't be so sure."
"But at the time, you did what you felt was right?"
She knew that they weren't talking about her relationship with Nick anymore. "...It doesn't mean it _was_ right."
"You didn't even give me a chance..." the hurt in his voice stung her and she was lost for words, feeling fresh tears of regret and sadness form in her eyes. His voice now had an indefinable sharpness to it. "Why did you come back, Abby?"
She remained silent against him, his hands continuing to trace abstract patterns across her back, through her hair, and she shook her head, and shrugged. All the reasons that led to her standing here with him in her kitchen, with their daughters sound asleep in the next room, with him holding her like this, all those reasons didn't seem to be able to fit into some Hallmark type phrase.
"I'm glad that I did."
He nodded, kissing her forehead again, "Me too."
She sighed, tilting her head back and meeting John's eyes head on. He tucked the loose strands of hair away from her face, and she was again struck by how intense those dark swirls of light sensitive nerves could be. His voice was gentle, soothing, "You feeling okay now?"
She sighed again, but smiled, "I think I gave up hope of ever feeling that sometime last century."
His eyes smiled back at hers, and he raised his brows. "Well, you're going to be okay."
"How can you be so sure?"
He smiled, "Because you always do. Something will happen and you'll get through it, the way you always have. You're the strongest person I know."
She laughed softly, looking away and shaking her head. "John..."
He pressed a thumb to her chin, reverting her eyes back to his. Whatever humor had been in his voice and expression before was gone, "I mean it, Abby."
Their gaze held and she could feel something happening. He wanted to kiss her; she could feel it. She could sense his awareness of it too. And even if she wanted to, she couldn't look away.
She was torn between wanting to be close to him and wanting to have as much distance between them as possible; because if they didn't, she knew they wouldn't be able to stop themselves, no matter how much they wanted to, no matter who they hurt.
Finally, she put her hands around his waist, and pressed her face into the scratchy wool of his chest, something she'd wanted to do since he'd walked through her door that night. Very gradually he took in a deep shaky breath. She closed her eyes and breathed in his scent; aftershave, sweat, coffee, *Carter.* Now she knew that she had been waiting for him. That she'd always been waiting for him.
"Abby..."
She finally slid her hands under the sweater he was wearing and he trailed off, looking down at her. Her eyes were dark and her mouth was slightly parted.
She stared at his chest, unsure about meeting his eyes. His chest - which was currently the center of her universe -- was rising and falling rapidly, the anticipation almost alive between them.
He could feel his heart thudding rapidly in his chest as he took her hands and turned them over in his, kissing the palms and pressing them to his face.
She closed her eyes, sighing as he leant forward and brushed his lips against hers.
Her hands moved back through his thick dark hair, pulling him closer towards her. He responded eagerly, parting his mouth and giving her tongue entrance. The electricity that had been present during their first kiss all those years ago was present again in this one. She felt herself surrendering to all those feelings that she'd spent so long denying and hiding from, all of them bubbling up to her head like cheap champagne. Kissing him was like standing on the edge of the world.
He finally pulled back from her just a little, leaving both of them sighing against each other. She could feel his breath on her face, one of his hands resting on her shoulder, the other pressed against the small of her back. He kissed her jaw, and placed a slow kiss onto the place where her neck met her shoulder. She moaned softly, pulling him closer, needing to feel him, all of him.
Breathlessly, "John..."
"Don't say stop. Don't say it," he murmured into the hollow of her throat.
"No," she replied, immediately feeling him tense up around her. She shook her head, running her fingers through his hair, "No, stay. I want you to stay."
He finally looked up at her, his eyes dark, questioning, his face flushed, lips slightly swollen from kissing her.
"Stay," she repeated.
He nodded gently and bent his head, capturing her lips with his own again. Abby's arms snaked around him and pulled him closer to her as she opened her mouth, inviting him inside. John groaned softly and wrapped his arms around her and lifted her slightly so that she was the same height as him. He ran the tip of his tongue across the roof of her mouth, holding her tighter as she shivered in response. She sighed as his tongue continued to explore the depths of her mouth; it was funny, he tasted the same as she remembered.
They lost pieces of clothing along the way to her bedroom. His jeans and her shoes left their mark across her kitchen floor. Their movements had a sense of urgency to them, the need for the other potent, desperate, raw. His hands were pulling at her tee shirt as she shut her door behind them, and she broke off their kiss to allow him to pull her top up over her head, dropping it on the floor behind them.
He continued to kiss her, as their hands roamed across their bodies, touching and caressing all the newly exposed skin. Craving the naked touch of each other. She'd forgotten what it felt like to want something so badly.
He trailed a path of soft kisses down across her chest, her navel, bending on his knees to continue his path downwards, gently exploring her body with his mouth and she gave a deep shuddering sigh as he kissed her hard through her jeans.
She ran her fingers through his hair, "John..."
He retraced his path with his mouth and fingers, moving up to her breasts. He played with her nipples, carefully gauging her reactions. Running his tongue across them, teasing them with his fingers until she started to sigh.
Raising his mouth to Abby's lips he kissed her hard. She returned the kiss with a desperate whimper, her body now completely sensitized to his touch; the electricity of his kiss sending a deep warmth throughout her body. He pulled back a little to smile at her softly, both of them breathless. Despite the dim light, the look in his eyes was unmistakable. Hungry and wanting, loving and needing.
She found herself grinning and he returned it absently, his eyes glistening with curiosity. "I've missed you," she finally whispered.
He nodded against her, "I've *really* missed you."
She smiled, wanting to leave it at that, and not go back into the uncharted territory about why she had left, and why she had returned and why they were doing this, why she was doing this. She kissed his shoulder softly, pressing herself into his chest. Actions spoke louder than words, right?
He pulled away from her, peeling off his tee shirt and then moving to stand behind her. She inhaled deeply, awaiting his touch, disliking the sudden coolness against her skin where his warmth had been only seconds before.
Then she could feel his hands on her waist, moving to her stomach, his fingers sketching nothing but warmth on her skin. Memories of their first encounter suddenly flashing through her mind. He finally popped the button on Abby's jeans, then slid the zipper down, slowly.
"Stop torturing me..." she was breathless.
He laughed softly, kissing the hollow at the base of her throat, and she sighed, shivering as his hands curved over her hips, curling under the waistband of her jeans and underwear and pulling the material down, easing them off each leg before dropping them onto the floor beside them.
He gently kissed the back of her neck, watching goose bumps rise in haphazard clusters across her skin. Her skin glistened with a thin sheen of sweat, and sensuously, he let his tongue travel down Abby's spine, tasting the salt pooled there. She arced her back to his touch, letting out a small throaty moan.
He knelt down in front of her, stroking the insides of her bare thighs with both hands, starting at her knees and moving gradually upward, all the time fixing her eyes with his, watching the beginnings of her response. Her eyes were wide, almost pained, lost.
She bit her lower lip, struggling to control herself as she ran her hands through his dark hair, urging him higher.
Finally, he slipped a finger just inside her. She could feel his finger dancing lightly across her clit and arched her back to try and make John rub harder, but he kept it just out of reach, teasing her. She whimpered, despite herself. Abby moved her body to meet John's hand, feeling her orgasm growing closer with each stroke.
Hearing her begin to moan, and sensing her climax he moved back up, raising his mouth to Abby's lips and kissing her hard. She responded immediately, pulling him tight against her, her hands moving down to the hardness between his legs, feeling him there, running her hand across his length and enjoying the deep desperate moan he made against her.
In response John stumbled toward the bed, reluctant to lose contact with her as he eased himself down onto his back. His hands moved to her waist, pulling her on top of him, and then settling there as she smiled down at him.
He returned the smile, winding his hands through her silky hair, stroking it lovingly as she leant down to kiss him. She kissed his forehead. Kissed his cheek. Kissed the eyelashes on each closed eye. Kissed his jaw, the corner of his mouth, and then, finally, his lips.
John opened his mouth to her, tasting her as she moved closer, letting her tongue explore him. He kept his hands still, allowing her the freedom to explore him, re-familiarize herself with the taste and feel of him as he had with her. Her tongue invaded his mouth completely and he groaned from the electric warmth of her kiss, of their bodies. The heady thought of being inside her, feeling her against his skin was almost more than he could stand. She finally let him slide inside her, moaning silently as she moved on top of him. His hands left her hair to move down her back, pulling her closer to him.
He braced himself under her, her hips meeting his with more confidence now. Her pace quickening as he matched her rhythm, thrusting up to her as she gave herself over, no longer thinking, only feeling.
John moaned quietly as he came recognizing the signs of Abby's orgasm. Abby held John's head close to hers and let the remaining traces of her orgasm leave her body as John surrendered to his. She bent her head down and kissed his forehead again and again.
She pressed her head to his chest and listened to the sound of his labored breathing mirroring her own, his heart pounding rapidly against her ear.
He could feel her shiver slightly against him. Reaching around the bed with one hand for a few seconds, he finally brought something up to her.
He carefully pulled his sweater over her head and as it erased her skin from his sight, he gently combed his fingers through her hair, and she smiled up at him.
She planted a feather-light kiss on the salty skin at the nape of his neck, burying her head under his chin. His right hand came up to rest on the dip of her waist, fingers splaying over the pale curve of skin, and her left came up to rest over it, fingers tangling with his.
And he holds on to her as she falls asleep.