Part Six
Kim stood at the top of the street and looked down at the key in her hand. 'Well', she thought, 'You're here, you've found her, what now?' Her feet began to move without actually being told to do so, and within 90 seconds, she was standing at the foot of Kerry's steps, looking up at the familiar door.
Almost reluctantly, she walked up the steps and put the key in the door, turned it went inside. And her jaw dropped. What had previously been a bare hallway with just a closet, now held three intricate African tribal masks, each carved from the darkest wood Kim had ever seen. She ran her fingers over the largest, feeling the grain of the wood through the varnish.
She turned to hang her coat in the closet, and her jaw fell again as she saw the framed sketch hanging to the side of it. It depicted a woman, asleep,with a sheet covering her to the waist. Her hair was spread out across the pillow and her long eyelashes almost touched her cheeks. Kim's mouth went dry as she stood and stared, captivated by this nameless woman. Leaning in to see the signature, Kim's hand flew to her mouth. There in the corner, unmistakable: K. Weaver. She knew Kerry loved art, but had no idea this extended to such an incredible talent.
Finally tearing her gaze away from the picture, Kim walked into the den, and had to close her eyes, then open them again to try and take in what she saw before her. What had previously been a functional room now reflected every aspect of Kerry's complex personality. Under the glass of the coffee table, Kerry had fixed pictures of everywhere she had visited. There were elephants, lions and giraffes from Africa, Ayer's Rock, Niagra Falls, the Rialto bridge. The list of places Kerry had visited was endless and beyond belief. Of course, most of this had taken place before the incident that had ruined Kerry's hip and leg, but Kim saw one picture of the two of them in New York, standing by the '5th Avenue' sign. They were laughing as the wind whipped their hair around, partly obscuring their faces. That had been their only break, and they'd certainly made the best of it. The photo had been taken to commemorate their only trip outside the entire weekend.
Kim sat down, and felt a magazine under her. Reaching round, she yanked it out and read the title with a grin. 'The Advocate'. Kerry had always made Kim go buy her a copy, and even then had kept it in her drawer upstairs in case a surprise guest had seen it downstairs, but it would appear that she had overcome that particular issue. Actually, given the performance in the ER that had so captivated Kim, she doubted that there were many such issues left in the Chief's life.
She glanced around the room, noting that despite Kerry's habitual tidiness, the room looked incredibly alive and lived in. There were a few CD cases on the table, one jazz, one classical and one by Amanda Ghost. The DVD box of 'Gia' was on top of the TV, and all the cabinet doors for Kerry's immense video, DVD and CD collection had been removed. Various small pencil drawings, in the same style as the one in the hall, were pinned to the wall, and Kim noticed a few of the woman she'd last seen storming out of the ER, as well as one of Kim herself. Kim recognized it as a copy of a photo Kerry had taken on their first 'official' date, of Kim sitting on Kerry's front steps as she'd thought she was waiting for Kerry to retrieve her crutch from beside her in the car. In fact, the redhead had been scrabbling about under the seat to locate her camera. The result was a photo of Kim looking up at the stars with a dreamy smile on her face, one which Kerry had always kept by her bedside. Kim noticed that Kerry had also put two shelves up, which contained some of Kerry's favourite literature as well as, Kim noted with approval, some excellent lesbian erotica.
Without warning, a wave of exhaustion overtook her and she realised she'd barely slept in 36 hours. She lay down on the sofa and was asleep almost immediately.
Hunger awoke her a few hours later, and she wandered into the kitchen to see what it had to offer. Knowing Kerry, it was bound to be something good. She pushed open the door, and stopped dead. The place was a disaster area. All the cupboards were wide open, and pots and pans had been flung everywhere, along with most of the contents of the fridge. Kim spotted a note on the counter, walked over and skimmed her eyes over it.
"Kerry-
Guess every whore gets what she deserves."
There was no signature, but Kim guessed it was the same woman she'd seen earlier.
Alarmed, and her hunger forgotten, she rushed over to the phone, and dialled the number, not even noticing in her hurry that she still knew the number by heart.
"Dr. Weaver please." Distantly, she heard Randi say, "Dr. Weaver, call on three," then a click then finally Kerry's voice. "Weaver."
"Kerry, it's me."
"Kim, what's up?" Despite months apart, Kerry still recognized the panic in her former lover's voice, and reacted accordingly, her tone slightly soothing to try and calm the younger woman down a little.
"It's your kitchen. Someone's trashed it. Kerry, it's a real mess."
"Dammit. Of all the low down...I'm on the way." The immense annoyance in Kerry's voice was evidence to all around that something was wrong.
Kerry replaced the receiver, and headed for the lounge, where she found Luka just getting in. "Luka, I have to take off early. Is that ok?"
Luka noticed the panic in her voice, and said quickly, "Kerry, it's fine. Go home. You spend way too much time here anyway."
Kerry nodded before turning and rushing out of the ER, heading straight for the El.
back to fanfiction.... forward to part seven....