Title: _Monday_
Author: Karen (snarky_freak@hotmail.com)
Rating: PG
Keywords: DRR, AU, Post-ep for Audrey Pauley
Spoilers: Audrey Pauley
Disclaimer: They're not mine.  Besides, I can't do anything;
I only deliver the flowers...  ;o)
Summary: 'I'm sittin' here, outside your room, thinkin' `bout 
that night.  Our night.'
Archive: Sure, just please notify me...
Author's Note: Be warned.  If your poor ol'heart can't stand 
the idea of character death, please leave now.  The exit is to 
your left.  Thank you.  ...And don't forget your tissue box on your
way out...

---

Spinning like a ghost
on the bottom of a
top,
I'm haunted by all
the space that I
will live without
you.

-Richard Brautigan, "Boo, Forever"

---

I never was good at those things.

*She* used to say I always put my foot in my mouth.  'Too late,' 
*she'd* say after we fight an' I apologize, 'You already hurt me, 
John.'

Even after.

Even after the fighting, the yelling, the anger, the tears, the pain.

Even after Luke.

Hell.  Especially after Luke.

No wonder *she's* my ex-wife now, huh?

An' what about you?

I can't imagine how you musta felt.

Last night.  In your car.  When you drove off.

After I put my foot in my mouth.

You were fishin' for somethin'.  Waitin' for me to do whatever it was 
you wanted me to do.

But I didn't.  I didn't do what you wanted me to do.

I never did.

I never do.

I never will.

Like I said, I never was good at those things.

No excuse, though...  For any of this.

So what happens next?

I'm sittin' here, outside your room, an' what do I got left?

A dead patient aide.  Audrey.

A dead nurse.  Whitney.

A psychotic doctor.  Preijers.

A dead partner.

A dead friend.

A dead you.

You.

Monica.

You have a message for me?

'There are dog people and there are cat people...'

Your message.

Audrey said you have a message for me.

Please.  Gimme a break.  I don't buy it.

I don't believe in those things.  You know that.  Knew that.  No--

You _know_ that.  You _still_ do.  So why try that stunt on me?  Took-
-no--takin' a big risk, Monica, tryin'  to get me to listen to you 
that way.

But...  God, there's that word again, huh?  That word.  Always 
between you an' me.  'But...'  Never satisfied with things, never 
content to leave things be, to leave the past in the past...

But...

But if it really _is_ you, then...

Why don't you do it?

Deliver it yourself, Monica.

Tell me.

Tell me again.

Tell me again, and I promise--

I'll try to be good at those things.

I won't.

I won't do that again.  Ever.

I won't ever put my foot in my mouth and leave you like that.

Hangin' on a hope.

Waitin' for a sign.

Fishin' for an answer.

...I'm sittin' beside you an' I smile.  Not a big smile, just a 
little one--that kind of smile I know you like.  A lot.  The kind of 
smile that makes you happy.  The kind of smile that makes you happy, 
knowing you're with me.  You never knew I noticed?  You never thought 
I'd ever notice that, huh?

...I did notice.

...I do notice.

...Monica.

...I notice you.

...I did.

...I do.

...I hope you knew that.  I hope you know that.  Still.

...I'm sittin' beside you an' I smile a little smile--the kinda smile 
I know you like.  You smile back at me.  A big smile.  The kind I 
like.  The kind you always give me.

...And then Something happens.  Something I can't explain.  Something 
I don't want to explain, or need to explain.

...I become a dog person.  For you.

...Loyal, dependable, without guile, comfortable to be around.

...I never disappoint anybody.

...I never disappoint you.

...I never did.

...I never do.

...I never will.

...When that happens, when that Something happens--

...I kiss you, or you kiss me, or we kiss each other.

...Whatever.  It doesn't matter who does what.

...You do what you've wanted done to me all this time, and I--

...I do whatever it is you want me to do.

...I do whatever it is I want to do.

...I do what you've wanted done to you all this time, too.

...And I hope to God, that while I'm doing this--whatever this is you 
and I wanna do, whatever this is we're doin'...

...I'm hopin' to God that I'm livin' up to what you always thought 
I'd be like, what you always imagined me to be.

...I'm not disappointing you, Monica, am I?

'I don't see you ever disappointing anybody, John.'

Really?

I'm sittin' here, outside your room.

I don't know what the hell else to do.

But sit.

And think.

And imagine.

That I hadn't put my foot in my mouth.

That for once, I had been good at those things.

This is me, goin' back on my word.

Not leavin' the past in the past.  Doin' what you do to me.  Doin' 
what you used to do to me...

'Are you her husband?'

I'm shaking my head right now, as I hear Audrey ask her question 
again in my mind.

`Are you her husband?'

No.  I'm not.  But...

That word again.  

I'm not her husband, but--

I love her, though.

Very much.

And I can't lose her.  I just can't.

I wish I could talk to her.

I wish...

I guess I wish for a lot of things.

I've been sittin' here, outside your room, for who knows how long 
now, Monica?

Audrey's gone.  Nurse Whitney's gone.  Dr. Preijers is gone.

So are you.  You're gone, too.

Your parents were here a while back, to say goodbye.

Your mother talks like you do.  Your dad's got a helluva handshake.  

In a sense, you'll live on, right?

Your folks believe that.  They went back home, to Mexico, believin' 
that.

Why can't I?

`Cause.

There's so much I wanna change.

About myself.

About us.

About that night.

You woulda had a martini, not a beer.

I woulda talked some more.  About my family.  My brother.  My 
sister.  About my huge weekend plans.  Microwave pizza.  Satellite 
T.V.  I woulda asked you to come over, spend some of your Saturday 
with me.  

Your Saturday afternoon.

Your Saturday night.  

Your Sunday morning.

With me.

I woulda said and done more, to keep you there.  

Happy.  Smiling.  Comfortable.  Safe.  

With me.

I woulda done what we both wanted to do, what we both wanted done to 
us.

I'm sittin' here, outside your room, Monica.

You're gone.

And I never got the chance to tell you--

I think you're a dog person, too.

I'm sittin' here, outside your room, thinkin' `bout that night.  

Our night.

...'See ya Monday?'

...'Yeah, see ya.'

I'm sorry.  I'm sorry I was never good at those things.

It's no excuse, though, is it?

It's Monday now, Monica, an' you're not here with me.

Never.  Never again.

That one night.  

That was our night.

We stopped after work.  You drove me home.

But you never said goodbye like you always do, every other Friday 
night before you leave work behind.  Before you leave me behind.

'There are dog people, and there are cat people...'

It's one thing to disappoint myself; I'm used to that.

It's quite another to disappoint you--like this.

Because.

Because I do.

I do, you know.  Audrey was right.  I do...  Very much.  Monica.

I love you.

Took me this damn long and this damn much to finally admit it to 
myself.  

To you.

But what good is it to say that now, when it's too damn late?

It's Monday now, Monica.

You're gone.

I'm sittin' here, outside your room.

And I don't know what the hell else to do.


END
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