A lovely guest called Matilda W has been reading my story Tissues and Issues and asked if I coud write something similar about Rita and Connie. I was intrigued by the idea and decided to give it a try. Just to warn you: it's more mature than anything else I've written! I hope you enjoy it.


Rita had found plenty of reasons to curse Caleb Knight over the last year or so.

It was true that he wasn't as terrifying as Connie; as stressed as Zoe; as rude as Dylan; as weird as Ethan or as unempathic as Lily – though he certainly had his moments were stress, rudeness, weirdness and a lack of empathy was concerned – but he did have a significant talent for annoying his colleagues.

One of the main problems was his flirtatiousness. He honestly seemed to believe he had been put on the earth to flirt with every woman in existence and he made sure he made the most of every opportunity, often embarrassing his colleagues but more often than not delighting his female patients.

Another fault was his quickness to jump to conclusions. When his hunches proved to be right, Rita was grateful for his courage (if not his smugness afterwards), but when he was wrong (a situation that was made all the more difficult by his unwillingness to admit to it), the patient was sometimes in a worse mess than when they'd started.

Factor in Cal's unwillingness to listen to anything anyone else said; his insistence on cutting corners and his habit of leaving his personal belongings strewn all over the staff room (Ethan said he was exactly the same at home) and Caleb Knight wasn't really Rita's favourite person at the ED.

But now, Cal really had outdone himself. He'd come rushing into the ED with a stinking cold and without any tissues just because he was terrified something had happened to Ethan. To be fair, Ethan had screamed in the middle of a phone conversation shortly before the phone went dead so his concern was understandable, but as usual, Cal had caused all sorts of trouble.

Rita had been the unlucky person who'd had to look after him. She'd done this willingly enough as Cal was genuinely ill as well as genuinely panicking about his brother. She'd made him tea, given him cuddles, supplied him with tissues and let him lie down in the staff room.

However, three days later, with a sore and tickly throat and the beginnings of a stuffed-up nose, Rita was starting to wish she'd kept well away from Cal. She might have caught her cold from a patient, of course, but after being in such close contact with Cal, she had a very strong feeling that she knew who was to blame.

A cold would have been inconvenient and unwelcome at any time, but Rita was particularly annoyed it was happening just now. They were already short-staffed and the last thing they needed was for Rita to disappear for a few days, but judging by how contagious Cal had proved to be, this was one occasion when soldiering on would not be advisable.

Not forgetting that Rita had plans for tonight. She'd been looking forward to it for a long time (and dreaming of it for even longer), but it seemed unfair and dangerous to risk giving such an important (and gorgeous) member of the medical team such a horrible cold.

Rita was just trying decide what to say in her text to her lover (communications between them at the ED were mostly restricted to secret texts and camouflaging arguments) when the object of her desires appeared.

"Rita, you look very hot," said Connie.

Rita had a quick look around. No-one seemed close enough to have overheard. "Thank you," she whispered.

"In fact, you look as though you should be in bed," said Connie.

"You're always so practical," said Rita approvingly.

"Diagnosing illnesses and deciding on appropriate treatments is my job, Nurse Freeman," said Connie.

It should have been Sister Freeman really, but Connie always said that made her feel incestuous and she was quite naughty enough already without adding that to the equation.

"So perhaps you could come with me," said Connie. She led Rita to an empty cubicle and drew the curtains. "That's better. Much more private. On the bed, Nurse Freeman."

"Yes, Mrs Beauchamp," said Rita pleasantly. She lay down on the bed.

"I'd like to examine you," said Connie. She took Rita's hand in hers. "Now, who's been giving you sweaty palms, Nurse Freeman?"

"I have been standing next to someone hot," said Rita.

Connie's skilful surgeon's fingers slid across Rita's palm finally coming to rest on her pulse point. "Your pulse rate is up, Nurse Freeman. Do you have any idea why that might be?"

"I suppose I must be a bit excited," said Rita. "I wonder what could have caused that."

"I have one or two ideas," said Connie. "Would you mind if I listen to your chest?"

"I prefer it when you talk to my chest," said Rita honestly.

"And I love it when your chest answers," said Connie. "It really does answer all my prayers, Rita." She unhooked her stethoscope from around her neck and moved it around Rita's chest. For such an experienced doctor, it took quite a long time for her to find Rita's heartbeat. Connie rested her palm flat on the chest piece, letting her fingers splay over the edge onto Rita's breast. "Oh yes. There it is. It sounds very regular to me, Nurse Freeman. It doesn't seem to have skipped a beat once."

"I'm quite surprised to hear that, actually, Mrs Beauchamp," said Rita.

"Oh, I'm sure we could do something about that." Connie smiled in a predatory fashion and removed the stethoscope. "There is clearly nothing wrong with your level of response, but I must check your airway and breathing."

Connie's words recalled Rita to her present situation. "Sorry, Connie. I don't think you should."

Connie's head went back in surprise. Slowly, she drew herself up to her full height. "Excuse me, Nurse Freeman?"

"I think I've caught Cal's cold," said Rita, feeling more annoyed than ever with the unfortunate registrar. "I don't want you to catch it, Connie. So you really shouldn't examine me now and I'm very sorry, but I think we should probably cancel tonight."