TITLE: One, Two, Three
AUTHOR: Shirley
RATING: PG
KEYWORDS: JC, SL, Romance/Drama
SPOILERS: None
TIMELINE: Set in the near future of Valentine's Day, year 2002.
This fic takes place five months after Susan's return to County.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the characters from ER. They are
the property of Warner Brothers, Constant C Productions, etc.
ARCHIVE: You are welcome to download this story for your own reading,
but please do not archive it on any website without my permission.
SUMMARY: Susan requests John's help for a one-on-one lesson.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story was written in response to a challenge
issued by Teresa on her lovely little website:
John Carter, Susan Lewis, Imagine The Possibilities...
http://www.geocities.com/dr_susan_carter/index.html
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
John Carter eyed his dwindling stack of charts with a sense of relief.
Another few minutes and he'd finally be done. Catching a flash of
something odd from the corner of his eye, he was distracted from his
paperwork by a large, furry, red heart approaching the admit desk.
Unable to hold back a guffaw, he raised his eyes to meet Dave Malucci's
scowling expression. The costume encased Dave's upper body, his head
poking out at the top of the heart. Kerry had been looking for someone
to fill the role of Happy Heart - the mascot to dispense chocolate in
the children's ward. She'd obviously found the perfect choice.
"Not a word, Carter," Dave warned, with menace in his voice.
"I wasn't going to say anything," John protested, though his eyes
glinted with humour. "Except...you look damn sexy in those red
tights."
"Shut up!" Clutching the bag of sweets more tightly, Dave hustled
down the hallway towards the elevator.
"He didn't look very happy," commented a dry, female voice.
Recognizing the slightly husky tones of Susan Lewis, John grinned down
at her. "He'll get over it, once he sees the kids."
"So, you have plans for tonight?"
"Nope," he answered shortly.
While Valentine's Day had never been one of his favourite holidays,
it held particularly bad memories for him ever since his attack.
Last year he had refused to acknowledge the traditional day at all.
He hoped to ignore it again this year but that was easier said
than done.
With another glance at Susan, he tried to recall if he'd seen or
heard her mention someone special. He didn't think so. "What about
you?" he asked.
She didn't reply immediately, seeming to search for the right words.
"Sort of," she said slowly. She dropped her tone to a lower level.
"Listen, Carter, this is going to sound weird, but can you dance?"
He wasn't sure if he'd heard her correctly. "Dance?"
"Yeah. Formal dancing, like a waltz."
"Sure. Why do you ask?"
"Well, my cousin is getting married tonight and I'm one of the
bridesmaids. I know she's planning to have us dance a waltz and
who knows what else. I've got two left feet and I never really
learned how to dance something like that." She smiled a little
sheepishly. "I just don't want to make a fool out of myself."
"So you want me to give you a crash course?" he guessed.
"Something like that. You're off now, right?"
"Yeah, I just need to sign a few charts. Um, where should we do this?"
She gazed around, as if looking for inspiration. "I don't know.
I would rather do it in private. Maybe one of the exam rooms?
It's kind of slow right now."
"Okay," he agreed. "How about I meet you in the lounge in ten minutes
and we'll go from there?"
"Great. Thanks, Carter."
He watched her walk away for a moment, thinking what an odd request
this was. It had actually been a while since he'd danced a waltz
but he was confident his feet would naturally take over with no problem.
It wasn't something one would forget and he'd had enough experience
with formal social events.
Susan remained somewhat of a mystery to him. He'd had a wicked crush
on her as a med student but when she had left County, he'd gotten
over his feelings for her fairly quickly. That was a good indication
that he'd been experiencing nothing more than a crush.
Her return to the ER this past September had been a surprise but not
an unpleasant one. He got along with her well but they didn't talk
as much as they used to. She seemed more quiet than she'd been in
the past and mostly kept to herself. She never volunteered information
about her sister Chloe, or little Susie, only venturing to say they
were both fine, when asked. Although she appeared happy to be back
at County, she seemed to keep her distance and kept her private life
to herself.
Finished with the paperwork at last, he headed for the lounge.
***************
As Susan shrugged out of her lab coat, she caught herself humming a tune.
It took her a belated second to recognize it as "Once Upon A Dream"
from 'Sleeping Beauty'. The Disney cartoon had been one of Susie's
favourites. Her young niece had loved the dance scene and would
endlessly rewind and rewatch the graceful Sleeping Beauty with her
handsome Prince, as they glided in each other's arms.
One corner of Susan's lips tugged upwards as she reflected on the
possibility that Carter was her Prince in disguise; the man who would
teach her to dance as effortlessly as a fairytale heroine. Yeah, right.
Peering into the small, chipped mirror that was glued to the inside of
her locker door, she made a futile attempt to fluff out her hair.
She had let it grow past her shoulders and was overdue for a cut.
Briefly considering whether she should try to touch up her makeup,
she decided to wait until she got to the church. Knowing her cousin,
she'd have at least one person roaming around with a full cosmetic
kit and a ready set of hot rollers.
Glancing to the side, she regarded the dress wrapped in clear, protective
plastic with a doubtful eye. While she liked the deep shade of red that
reminded her of aged wine, she still wasn't convinced that the style
suited her. The high, square neckline with short, little spaghetti
straps were fine, but she just wasn't a satin kind of woman. To top
it off, the train of the dress was overly long and that forced her to
wear heels. She hated wearing heels. It would take all of her
concentration to remain upright while walking, never mind dancing.
Hearing someone enter the lounge, she closed the locker door and spun
around. John stood before her, looking a little uncertain. "Hey,"
she said in greeting.
"Hey. You still want to do this?"
"Yeah." Looking at her watch, her eyes widened slightly. Damn, she was
going to be late if she didn't leave soon. "Let's just do it here.
I don't have much time now."
"Sure." He tossed his lab coat onto the nearest chair. "Maybe we
should move this table out of the way."
After pushing the table and a few chairs to the side, they were ready
to begin her lesson. She felt rather foolish asking Carter to do this
but she tried to brush the feeling aside. If this could help her in
any way, she would swallow her pride for a few minutes. "Okay, how do
we start?" she asked, almost impatiently.
Coming to stand in front of her, he placed her left hand on his shoulder
and settled one of his hands on her waist. Her right hand was then
grasped by his, their fingers entwining. "A waltz beats in time to
three," he began. "One, two, three. One, two, three. I'll lead,
so I'll step off first and you kind of follow along. On 'three',
your feet should come together. Uh..." he faltered for a moment.
"This would be easier if we had music but I guess we can just count.
Ready?"
She nodded. As soon as he said 'one', she eagerly started to move,
bumping into his chest. "Sorry," she murmured.
Looking down at her with a crooked smile, he teased, "Are you leading
here, or am I?"
"You. Let's start again."
This time, she waited for him to step away first. And then she promptly
stomped on his toe, none too lightly. As he winced, she had a sudden
vision of trampling the feet of her unlucky dance partner and rushing
him to the ER. "Maybe this isn't such a good idea," she sighed.
"Don't give up yet. Let's try again." He started the count-off
and they moved in unison. Although she nipped the top edge of his
shoes a couple of times, this round progressed more smoothly.
"Don't look at your feet," he advised. "Look at me."
"But how will my feet know where to go?" When voiced aloud, she
realized the question sounded stupid. No one danced while staring
down at their feet. But this wasn't as easy as it looked in the movies.
"Move closer to me. You have to...sort of...feel it," he stated
with hesitation, as if he wasn't quite sure how to explain it.
She edged towards him a little more closely. He bridged the
distance even more, until they were pressed together. It was a
gentle pressure, certainly not uncomfortable, but perhaps a little
more intimate than she had anticipated this session would be.
John had stopped counting aloud, but she continued to chant the series
of numbers in her head. Rather than look at him, she gazed over
his shoulder.
"Relax," she heard him say. "You're all tensed up."
Was she? Okay, Susan, don't think about anything. Just feel the
rhythm flowing through you. I've never noticed before how nice
Carter smells. Spicy and slightly musky. But not in a bad way.
Masculine. Maybe remnants of some cologne mixed with his own scent.
Good grief, stop thinking about how he smells! Where was I?
Oh yeah, rhythm.
"Hey, you're doing it!" John exclaimed.
She snapped out of her trance with a jolt. "What?"
"You're doing it. We're dancing."
So they were. Somehow, her feet were moving smoothly of their own
accord. The close confines of the area forced them to make many
twists and turns, leaving her breathless and more than a little dizzy.
Was it her imagination, or were they moving even faster now?
"Carter, what are you doing?" she protested, feeling a surge of
laughter tickling her throat, in spite of herself. "You're going
too fast. Stop!"
"Can't stop. I'm having too much fun."
Grinning at her like a naughty kid, he continued to twirl her around.
The dam burst and she began to giggle. As if on cue, he started to
chuckle, quietly at first, and then building to a full-blown laughing fit.
They were both laughing so hard, they came within an inch of crashing
into the table. He managed to avoid it by swinging her out of the way
at the last second. He then came to a stop so abruptly, her momentum
threw her forward against his chest, rocking him backwards.
Raising her eyes to his, her heart thumping madly from the exertion,
she tried to keep a straight face. Then, in a swift and unexpected
motion, her world tilted sideways. Blinking, she peered up at him,
his nose a mere two inches from her face. In between gulps of breath,
she rasped, "Is this a special waltz move?"
"Yeah. It's called a dip."
God, those eyes of his. Dark, liquid pools that shined with such
intensity, she was almost afraid to be caught in their gaze.
She didn't want him to probe so deeply. So why couldn't she look
away? Neither of them were laughing anymore. "Let me up," she said
abruptly. Slowly, she was raised back to an upright position.
"I...I'd better go," she stammered.
"Okay."
Her hand was released and as he stepped backwards, she felt a tug
on her jacket. "Whoa. Stop," she warned. The fine threads of his
sweater were caught on the zipper of her jacket. Gingerly trying to
unsnag it, she tugged at the small metallic clasp.
"Let me try." With his much larger hands, he tried to finesse the
material free. No luck. "I could try to really yank it, but I don't
want to damage your jacket. Or my sweater," he admitted.
"Okay. One of us is going to have to wiggle out of this."
He raised an eyebrow, a comical look on his face. "Excuse me?"
"I don't have time to try to get this unstuck. So get yourself out
of the sweater. Then I'll take off the jacket and we'll deal with
separating the two later."
He gave her a baleful look, a slight whine to his voice. "Why do I
have to go first?"
She tried her best to sound convincing. Obviously, whoever went first
would have a trickier job to get free. "Your sweater is more stretchy
than my jacket. It'll be easier for you."
"All right," he muttered.
Crouching down slightly, he used both hands to pull the neckline over
his head. After his head disappeared from sight, he next tried to
slip his arms back through the sleeves. Susan couldn't help rolling
her eyes. This silly predicament was going to make her even later.
With a slight jump, she felt something brush against her breast,
but she studiously ignored it. He was flailing around blindly in there.
With a noisy gasp of air, John's head reappeared from the confines of
the sweater and he practically bounded upwards. "Ta daaa!" he exclaimed.
As he flung his arms out triumphantly, she noticed his glance flicker
over her shoulder. His smile drooped into a grimace. "Oh no," he groaned.
"What?" With a feeling of dread, she turned to follow his gaze. Several
gleeful faces were grinning at her from the window in the lounge door.
A hand was waved and snorts of laughter reached her ears. "Oh, perfect,"
she uttered under her breath. Supporting the dangling sweater with one
hand so it wouldn't drag on the floor, she marched across the room and
threw open the door. "How long have you been here?" she demanded,
addressing the guilty party. Randi, Cleo, and Haleh faced her with
expressions that ranged from sheepish chagrin to outright mirth.
Cleo spoke up first. While her tone was sincerely apologetic, there was
no hiding the subtle crinkling of her eyes. "Sorry, this is my fault.
I was about to come in when I saw you dancing. Then Randi walked by
and wanted to know what I was looking at."
As Susan held the door open about a foot wide, she gave a quick glance
back to her dance instructor. John remained standing in the middle of
the room, with arms crossed in front of him. At least he was wearing a
sleeveless white undershirt. She had the feeling the gaggle of women
beyond the door were disappointed they weren't able to view his naked
chest. He did have a nice pair of muscular arms, though.
Randi had the widest grin on her face, though Haleh came a close second.
"You two make a cute couple," Randi declared, trying to peek around Susan.
"Hey, Carter, you've got some nice moves!" she called out.
"Thanks, Randi," came John's sarcastic reply.
"And what do you have to say for yourself?" Susan asked her old friend.
Haleh spoke in a nonchalant tone that belied the twinkle in her eye.
"It's none of my business what you and Carter do behind closed doors."
"We weren't *doing* anything," Susan protested. "He was just teaching
me to dance."
"Whatever you say, Dr. Lewis," Haleh said, with obvious laughter in
her voice.
"Is this for the wedding you told me about?" Cleo asked.
Susan pounced on this explanation. "Yes! That's exactly right.
I'm a complete klutz when it comes to dancing, so I asked Carter to
teach me to waltz. That's all."
"Can I have a private lesson too?" Randi inquired loudly.
Susan was startled when John's voice boomed out above her ear.
She hadn't noticed when he'd come to stand beside her. "Sure, ladies,
why don't you all come in? Then we can have a group lesson, which
would be much more fun." He spoke with mock graciousness, and looked
as if he was both amused and annoyed at the same time.
Cleo started backing away first. "Some other time perhaps. I wouldn't
want to intrude."
Randi motioned towards the sweater that remained attached to her jacket.
"You, uh, want some help with that?"
"No thanks. I can manage," Susan replied through gritted teeth.
Only Haleh remained and her large eyes flitted back and forth between
the two embarrassed faces. As the nurse erupted into peals of laughter,
Susan felt the heat infusing her cheeks. Once Haleh began retreating
down the hall, with shoulders shaking from the force of her gaiety,
she slammed the door shut, nearly catching John's nose in it.
Though she knew it was useless, she gave a final inane tug on the stubborn
zipper and threw her hands up in defeat. "I don't have time for this.
I'm just taking this thing off." The zipper was undone halfway, so that
gave her a little room to maneuver. Thirty seconds later, she was able
to pull it over her head, careful not to peel away the shirt underneath
along with it. Glad to be rid of the troublesome garment, she draped
it over a chair and turned back to her locker. She spoke quickly as
she grabbed her coat. "Thanks for the lesson. I've gotta run and
catch the El. Kris is going to kill me."
John shivered slightly, looking cold. "Your cousin?"
"Yeah. My car is in the shop so I'm travelling in style today."
"I can give you a ride," he offered.
She paused, seriously considering the idea. "Really? I just might
take you up on that."
"Sure, no problem. Uh, you don't have a spare sweater or anything,
do you?"
She shook her head, scanning the room for something he could borrow.
There was nothing in sight. "Maybe you could ask someone in the ER,"
she suggested.
He was already reaching into his locker for his coat. "Nah, I'll be
okay. I'll just turn the heat up in the car."
"Here, take this at least." Grabbing her woollen blue scarf from the
hook, she placed it around his neck.
"Thanks."
She started to heft a heavy bag that contained the wedding gift,
her shoes, and some other items, but he pulled it from her hands
and hoisted it over his own shoulder. Some things never changed.
He'd always been a gentleman. All that remained were her purse and
dress, and they were ready to go.
Emerging from the lounge, she was grateful that none of their earlier
audience was around. They would both be facing some teasing during
their next shift, but she didn't have to worry about it yet. First,
she had to get through this wedding without tottering over in her heels.
AUTHOR: Shirley
RATING: PG
KEYWORDS: JC, SL, Romance/Drama
SPOILERS: None
TIMELINE: Set in the near future of Valentine's Day, year 2002.
This fic takes place five months after Susan's return to County.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the characters from ER. They are
the property of Warner Brothers, Constant C Productions, etc.
ARCHIVE: You are welcome to download this story for your own reading,
but please do not archive it on any website without my permission.
SUMMARY: Susan requests John's help for a one-on-one lesson.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story was written in response to a challenge
issued by Teresa on her lovely little website:
John Carter, Susan Lewis, Imagine The Possibilities...
http://www.geocities.com/dr_susan_carter/index.html
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
John Carter eyed his dwindling stack of charts with a sense of relief.
Another few minutes and he'd finally be done. Catching a flash of
something odd from the corner of his eye, he was distracted from his
paperwork by a large, furry, red heart approaching the admit desk.
Unable to hold back a guffaw, he raised his eyes to meet Dave Malucci's
scowling expression. The costume encased Dave's upper body, his head
poking out at the top of the heart. Kerry had been looking for someone
to fill the role of Happy Heart - the mascot to dispense chocolate in
the children's ward. She'd obviously found the perfect choice.
"Not a word, Carter," Dave warned, with menace in his voice.
"I wasn't going to say anything," John protested, though his eyes
glinted with humour. "Except...you look damn sexy in those red
tights."
"Shut up!" Clutching the bag of sweets more tightly, Dave hustled
down the hallway towards the elevator.
"He didn't look very happy," commented a dry, female voice.
Recognizing the slightly husky tones of Susan Lewis, John grinned down
at her. "He'll get over it, once he sees the kids."
"So, you have plans for tonight?"
"Nope," he answered shortly.
While Valentine's Day had never been one of his favourite holidays,
it held particularly bad memories for him ever since his attack.
Last year he had refused to acknowledge the traditional day at all.
He hoped to ignore it again this year but that was easier said
than done.
With another glance at Susan, he tried to recall if he'd seen or
heard her mention someone special. He didn't think so. "What about
you?" he asked.
She didn't reply immediately, seeming to search for the right words.
"Sort of," she said slowly. She dropped her tone to a lower level.
"Listen, Carter, this is going to sound weird, but can you dance?"
He wasn't sure if he'd heard her correctly. "Dance?"
"Yeah. Formal dancing, like a waltz."
"Sure. Why do you ask?"
"Well, my cousin is getting married tonight and I'm one of the
bridesmaids. I know she's planning to have us dance a waltz and
who knows what else. I've got two left feet and I never really
learned how to dance something like that." She smiled a little
sheepishly. "I just don't want to make a fool out of myself."
"So you want me to give you a crash course?" he guessed.
"Something like that. You're off now, right?"
"Yeah, I just need to sign a few charts. Um, where should we do this?"
She gazed around, as if looking for inspiration. "I don't know.
I would rather do it in private. Maybe one of the exam rooms?
It's kind of slow right now."
"Okay," he agreed. "How about I meet you in the lounge in ten minutes
and we'll go from there?"
"Great. Thanks, Carter."
He watched her walk away for a moment, thinking what an odd request
this was. It had actually been a while since he'd danced a waltz
but he was confident his feet would naturally take over with no problem.
It wasn't something one would forget and he'd had enough experience
with formal social events.
Susan remained somewhat of a mystery to him. He'd had a wicked crush
on her as a med student but when she had left County, he'd gotten
over his feelings for her fairly quickly. That was a good indication
that he'd been experiencing nothing more than a crush.
Her return to the ER this past September had been a surprise but not
an unpleasant one. He got along with her well but they didn't talk
as much as they used to. She seemed more quiet than she'd been in
the past and mostly kept to herself. She never volunteered information
about her sister Chloe, or little Susie, only venturing to say they
were both fine, when asked. Although she appeared happy to be back
at County, she seemed to keep her distance and kept her private life
to herself.
Finished with the paperwork at last, he headed for the lounge.
***************
As Susan shrugged out of her lab coat, she caught herself humming a tune.
It took her a belated second to recognize it as "Once Upon A Dream"
from 'Sleeping Beauty'. The Disney cartoon had been one of Susie's
favourites. Her young niece had loved the dance scene and would
endlessly rewind and rewatch the graceful Sleeping Beauty with her
handsome Prince, as they glided in each other's arms.
One corner of Susan's lips tugged upwards as she reflected on the
possibility that Carter was her Prince in disguise; the man who would
teach her to dance as effortlessly as a fairytale heroine. Yeah, right.
Peering into the small, chipped mirror that was glued to the inside of
her locker door, she made a futile attempt to fluff out her hair.
She had let it grow past her shoulders and was overdue for a cut.
Briefly considering whether she should try to touch up her makeup,
she decided to wait until she got to the church. Knowing her cousin,
she'd have at least one person roaming around with a full cosmetic
kit and a ready set of hot rollers.
Glancing to the side, she regarded the dress wrapped in clear, protective
plastic with a doubtful eye. While she liked the deep shade of red that
reminded her of aged wine, she still wasn't convinced that the style
suited her. The high, square neckline with short, little spaghetti
straps were fine, but she just wasn't a satin kind of woman. To top
it off, the train of the dress was overly long and that forced her to
wear heels. She hated wearing heels. It would take all of her
concentration to remain upright while walking, never mind dancing.
Hearing someone enter the lounge, she closed the locker door and spun
around. John stood before her, looking a little uncertain. "Hey,"
she said in greeting.
"Hey. You still want to do this?"
"Yeah." Looking at her watch, her eyes widened slightly. Damn, she was
going to be late if she didn't leave soon. "Let's just do it here.
I don't have much time now."
"Sure." He tossed his lab coat onto the nearest chair. "Maybe we
should move this table out of the way."
After pushing the table and a few chairs to the side, they were ready
to begin her lesson. She felt rather foolish asking Carter to do this
but she tried to brush the feeling aside. If this could help her in
any way, she would swallow her pride for a few minutes. "Okay, how do
we start?" she asked, almost impatiently.
Coming to stand in front of her, he placed her left hand on his shoulder
and settled one of his hands on her waist. Her right hand was then
grasped by his, their fingers entwining. "A waltz beats in time to
three," he began. "One, two, three. One, two, three. I'll lead,
so I'll step off first and you kind of follow along. On 'three',
your feet should come together. Uh..." he faltered for a moment.
"This would be easier if we had music but I guess we can just count.
Ready?"
She nodded. As soon as he said 'one', she eagerly started to move,
bumping into his chest. "Sorry," she murmured.
Looking down at her with a crooked smile, he teased, "Are you leading
here, or am I?"
"You. Let's start again."
This time, she waited for him to step away first. And then she promptly
stomped on his toe, none too lightly. As he winced, she had a sudden
vision of trampling the feet of her unlucky dance partner and rushing
him to the ER. "Maybe this isn't such a good idea," she sighed.
"Don't give up yet. Let's try again." He started the count-off
and they moved in unison. Although she nipped the top edge of his
shoes a couple of times, this round progressed more smoothly.
"Don't look at your feet," he advised. "Look at me."
"But how will my feet know where to go?" When voiced aloud, she
realized the question sounded stupid. No one danced while staring
down at their feet. But this wasn't as easy as it looked in the movies.
"Move closer to me. You have to...sort of...feel it," he stated
with hesitation, as if he wasn't quite sure how to explain it.
She edged towards him a little more closely. He bridged the
distance even more, until they were pressed together. It was a
gentle pressure, certainly not uncomfortable, but perhaps a little
more intimate than she had anticipated this session would be.
John had stopped counting aloud, but she continued to chant the series
of numbers in her head. Rather than look at him, she gazed over
his shoulder.
"Relax," she heard him say. "You're all tensed up."
Was she? Okay, Susan, don't think about anything. Just feel the
rhythm flowing through you. I've never noticed before how nice
Carter smells. Spicy and slightly musky. But not in a bad way.
Masculine. Maybe remnants of some cologne mixed with his own scent.
Good grief, stop thinking about how he smells! Where was I?
Oh yeah, rhythm.
"Hey, you're doing it!" John exclaimed.
She snapped out of her trance with a jolt. "What?"
"You're doing it. We're dancing."
So they were. Somehow, her feet were moving smoothly of their own
accord. The close confines of the area forced them to make many
twists and turns, leaving her breathless and more than a little dizzy.
Was it her imagination, or were they moving even faster now?
"Carter, what are you doing?" she protested, feeling a surge of
laughter tickling her throat, in spite of herself. "You're going
too fast. Stop!"
"Can't stop. I'm having too much fun."
Grinning at her like a naughty kid, he continued to twirl her around.
The dam burst and she began to giggle. As if on cue, he started to
chuckle, quietly at first, and then building to a full-blown laughing fit.
They were both laughing so hard, they came within an inch of crashing
into the table. He managed to avoid it by swinging her out of the way
at the last second. He then came to a stop so abruptly, her momentum
threw her forward against his chest, rocking him backwards.
Raising her eyes to his, her heart thumping madly from the exertion,
she tried to keep a straight face. Then, in a swift and unexpected
motion, her world tilted sideways. Blinking, she peered up at him,
his nose a mere two inches from her face. In between gulps of breath,
she rasped, "Is this a special waltz move?"
"Yeah. It's called a dip."
God, those eyes of his. Dark, liquid pools that shined with such
intensity, she was almost afraid to be caught in their gaze.
She didn't want him to probe so deeply. So why couldn't she look
away? Neither of them were laughing anymore. "Let me up," she said
abruptly. Slowly, she was raised back to an upright position.
"I...I'd better go," she stammered.
"Okay."
Her hand was released and as he stepped backwards, she felt a tug
on her jacket. "Whoa. Stop," she warned. The fine threads of his
sweater were caught on the zipper of her jacket. Gingerly trying to
unsnag it, she tugged at the small metallic clasp.
"Let me try." With his much larger hands, he tried to finesse the
material free. No luck. "I could try to really yank it, but I don't
want to damage your jacket. Or my sweater," he admitted.
"Okay. One of us is going to have to wiggle out of this."
He raised an eyebrow, a comical look on his face. "Excuse me?"
"I don't have time to try to get this unstuck. So get yourself out
of the sweater. Then I'll take off the jacket and we'll deal with
separating the two later."
He gave her a baleful look, a slight whine to his voice. "Why do I
have to go first?"
She tried her best to sound convincing. Obviously, whoever went first
would have a trickier job to get free. "Your sweater is more stretchy
than my jacket. It'll be easier for you."
"All right," he muttered.
Crouching down slightly, he used both hands to pull the neckline over
his head. After his head disappeared from sight, he next tried to
slip his arms back through the sleeves. Susan couldn't help rolling
her eyes. This silly predicament was going to make her even later.
With a slight jump, she felt something brush against her breast,
but she studiously ignored it. He was flailing around blindly in there.
With a noisy gasp of air, John's head reappeared from the confines of
the sweater and he practically bounded upwards. "Ta daaa!" he exclaimed.
As he flung his arms out triumphantly, she noticed his glance flicker
over her shoulder. His smile drooped into a grimace. "Oh no," he groaned.
"What?" With a feeling of dread, she turned to follow his gaze. Several
gleeful faces were grinning at her from the window in the lounge door.
A hand was waved and snorts of laughter reached her ears. "Oh, perfect,"
she uttered under her breath. Supporting the dangling sweater with one
hand so it wouldn't drag on the floor, she marched across the room and
threw open the door. "How long have you been here?" she demanded,
addressing the guilty party. Randi, Cleo, and Haleh faced her with
expressions that ranged from sheepish chagrin to outright mirth.
Cleo spoke up first. While her tone was sincerely apologetic, there was
no hiding the subtle crinkling of her eyes. "Sorry, this is my fault.
I was about to come in when I saw you dancing. Then Randi walked by
and wanted to know what I was looking at."
As Susan held the door open about a foot wide, she gave a quick glance
back to her dance instructor. John remained standing in the middle of
the room, with arms crossed in front of him. At least he was wearing a
sleeveless white undershirt. She had the feeling the gaggle of women
beyond the door were disappointed they weren't able to view his naked
chest. He did have a nice pair of muscular arms, though.
Randi had the widest grin on her face, though Haleh came a close second.
"You two make a cute couple," Randi declared, trying to peek around Susan.
"Hey, Carter, you've got some nice moves!" she called out.
"Thanks, Randi," came John's sarcastic reply.
"And what do you have to say for yourself?" Susan asked her old friend.
Haleh spoke in a nonchalant tone that belied the twinkle in her eye.
"It's none of my business what you and Carter do behind closed doors."
"We weren't *doing* anything," Susan protested. "He was just teaching
me to dance."
"Whatever you say, Dr. Lewis," Haleh said, with obvious laughter in
her voice.
"Is this for the wedding you told me about?" Cleo asked.
Susan pounced on this explanation. "Yes! That's exactly right.
I'm a complete klutz when it comes to dancing, so I asked Carter to
teach me to waltz. That's all."
"Can I have a private lesson too?" Randi inquired loudly.
Susan was startled when John's voice boomed out above her ear.
She hadn't noticed when he'd come to stand beside her. "Sure, ladies,
why don't you all come in? Then we can have a group lesson, which
would be much more fun." He spoke with mock graciousness, and looked
as if he was both amused and annoyed at the same time.
Cleo started backing away first. "Some other time perhaps. I wouldn't
want to intrude."
Randi motioned towards the sweater that remained attached to her jacket.
"You, uh, want some help with that?"
"No thanks. I can manage," Susan replied through gritted teeth.
Only Haleh remained and her large eyes flitted back and forth between
the two embarrassed faces. As the nurse erupted into peals of laughter,
Susan felt the heat infusing her cheeks. Once Haleh began retreating
down the hall, with shoulders shaking from the force of her gaiety,
she slammed the door shut, nearly catching John's nose in it.
Though she knew it was useless, she gave a final inane tug on the stubborn
zipper and threw her hands up in defeat. "I don't have time for this.
I'm just taking this thing off." The zipper was undone halfway, so that
gave her a little room to maneuver. Thirty seconds later, she was able
to pull it over her head, careful not to peel away the shirt underneath
along with it. Glad to be rid of the troublesome garment, she draped
it over a chair and turned back to her locker. She spoke quickly as
she grabbed her coat. "Thanks for the lesson. I've gotta run and
catch the El. Kris is going to kill me."
John shivered slightly, looking cold. "Your cousin?"
"Yeah. My car is in the shop so I'm travelling in style today."
"I can give you a ride," he offered.
She paused, seriously considering the idea. "Really? I just might
take you up on that."
"Sure, no problem. Uh, you don't have a spare sweater or anything,
do you?"
She shook her head, scanning the room for something he could borrow.
There was nothing in sight. "Maybe you could ask someone in the ER,"
she suggested.
He was already reaching into his locker for his coat. "Nah, I'll be
okay. I'll just turn the heat up in the car."
"Here, take this at least." Grabbing her woollen blue scarf from the
hook, she placed it around his neck.
"Thanks."
She started to heft a heavy bag that contained the wedding gift,
her shoes, and some other items, but he pulled it from her hands
and hoisted it over his own shoulder. Some things never changed.
He'd always been a gentleman. All that remained were her purse and
dress, and they were ready to go.
Emerging from the lounge, she was grateful that none of their earlier
audience was around. They would both be facing some teasing during
their next shift, but she didn't have to worry about it yet. First,
she had to get through this wedding without tottering over in her heels.