Title: Timing
Author: AnitaB
Author's notes: I was so happy when Proctor's failed date and Serena's Time of Death trauma happened in the same episode. It saved me the trouble of killing someone to traumatize her. The idea of Proctor getting all possessive and protective of her had been floating in my head for a few weeks. Well, to get on with it, Proctor has a bit of a secret and Serena's got an urge to do something stupid. What happens next will change everything for both of them. Serena/Mathew romantic committed smut ahead. I am the queen.
I own nothing and nothing I do own would be worth winning in a lawsuit. No infringement intended.
Timing
By AnitaB
Chapter one: Time of death
'It didn't take' was a bit of an understatement. 'I didn't take it' was a little more accurate. But then saying the wrong woman's name in a rather … intimate situation tended to make opportunities like that a little harder to grab.
He could still taste the vodka in the back of his throat, but that again wasn't the problem. The alcohol had tried to do its job, but this wasn't that easy to forget about. And of course Dr.'s Zambrano and Deleo decided that Serena… Dr. Warren should be the first one to interrogate him. It was utterly logical to want to know details about one's boss, particularly as he'd asked for it by coming to work hung-over enough for a rehydration kit. But that didn't mean he was going to tell anyone… especially Serena … what really happened.
The ouch wasn't for the needle in his arm, but putting the other person in a position of apology made him feel better. /Serena…\\ He could still hear his own voice saying that word. The blonde cardiologist he'd had in his lap last night… well… she hadn't been amused when the man she was kissing called her by another woman's name.
And he'd be saying her name, her first name again, or at least thinking it very, very hard. It wasn't like he often forgot just how young she was, almost as young as she looked, but he sometimes did. Matthew just forgot she was as inexperienced in some aspects of their job because she was so capable. First TOD was the hardest and she'd been alone. Team trauma had one too many bodies on gurneys for one of them to be at her side. He'd known something was very wrong simply by the position of her back at the side of her gurney as he'd passed the room. Even before the machines were turned off and the nurses started to cover the body.
Mathew wanted to hug her outside that trauma room, wanted to say her name and pull her close. But other than the poor comfort of confirming that she had done all she could and a moral lesson disguised as a joke, he had nothing to offer her but a moment.
Serena tended to reject pure comfort, she saw it as pity. And with the memory of blonde hair in his fingers and her name on his lips… he didn't trust himself or his motives at the moment. Mathew decided to keep a closer eye on her today. He might have failed her by not being there at her side, but he wouldn't let her down again.
She seemed to be feeling a little better by the end of the shift. At least in part because she'd helped Chris save the twin brother from his broken heart syndrome, and then more by sitting with him for a talk. But there was still something wrong with the way she held her shoulders as Dr. Warren walked out of the hospital that evening. There was a layer of tension in the lines of her back, her face that worried him.
It worried him even more when she drove past their favorite little bar and headed for one he'd never been to before. If she was just planning for a drink or two to take the edge off, why would she avoid the place where Chris or Eva or even he himself might drop by for a drink of their own.
Serena absolutely shouldn't be left to her own devices right now and if he hadn't followed her, that was exactly what would have happened. Mathew watched from his new car as she fluffed her hair and slapped on a darker color of lipstick then he'd ever seen on her before. When she walked into the bar, the tension her in back was almost hidden under the extra sway of her hips. But he could still see it. /Oh, darling, what do you think you're doing?\\
He tried to tell himself he wasn't watching the curves of her hips as she practically strutted into the bar, but it would have been a lie. The last few days had proven to him beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was aware of Dr. Serena Warren in ways that were not appropriate for her boss or her friend. Parking the car across the street, Mathew gave her a few minutes head start and himself a few deep breaths before he walked into the bar and scanned for a petite blonde.
He heard her laugh before he spotted her hair. Had he not been watching her for weeks, he might have thought the laughter was real. But Mathew knew better. He'd heard Serena laugh any number of times, but this wasn't it. That sound on her lips was faked and forced for the man at the bar showing her a lighter trick.
/Damn, you work quick, girl.\\ The man at Serena's side was at least ten years older than her and almost a foot taller. Before them on the bar were two empty shot glasses and the bartender set down two full ones as he watched. Clear liquid filled the glasses. Vodka. Not her normal cocktail, mixed drink, or even beer.
Serena tossed back the liquor expertly and gestured for a third without even a cough or a grimace. Mathew found himself sliding onto the empty stool next to hers as she reached out for the next shot. Now she coughed and grimaced. "Dr. Proctor? What are you doing here?"
"Oh, hello, Serena. Funny meeting you here." He tried for casual as he ordered a mojito and turned to look at the man glaring at him from Serena's other side. "Eva suggested I stop drinking vodka and try one of these. Aren't you going to introduce me to your young man?"
She turned bright red, lowered her chin, and struggled for words for a moment. "Uh… sure… of course… Dr. Mathew Proctor, this is… Greg, right?" At the man's slight nod, she continued. "Greg, this is Mathew Proctor… my boss." He watched the man, who looked for all the world like a surfer bum, reach out a hand like he was going to shake it. /Like hell,\\ He knew if he touched Greg's hand, he would want to squeeze for the pain points between the bones. Not the wisest thing he could do.
Waving the handshake away, Mathew reached out instead for the mojito and took a small sip. "Nice to meet you, Greg, was it? Have you known Serena long?" He knew the answer had to be about five minutes. He also knew he was practically drowning their little patch of the bar in testosterone and protectiveness. He didn't care. Serena wasn't going anywhere with this salt-soaked bastard, not if he could do anything about it.
"No, not long." Greg threw back his new shot and turned to Serena with a look of speculation and half an invitation. "Hey, Serena, my buddies and I were going to a bonfire party tonight. Should be getting started any time now. Wanna come?"
Mathew leaned closer against Serena, sliding an arm loosely around her shoulder. "Oh, bonfires are a bad idea. Remember the fourth degree burns on that teenager last week?" He tugged her against his side and gave Greg a dark little twist of a smile, knowing it was possessive in a way he had no right to be. "Add alcohol and you're just asking to ruin those good looks. Nothing scars as badly as burns. Right, Serena?"
Tension flowed up and down the lean body under his arm. She was mad at him and that only made him feel better about what he was doing. She had planned to do something stupid. "Thanks, but I'll pass. Maybe I'll see you around, Greg."
"Yeah, maybe."
Mathew felt a dark joy building in him at the sight of the surfer boy backpedaling. /Good call, darling, good call.\\
000
She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry and stamp her feet and maybe hit Proctor in the face. Greg walked away, taking with him her plans of being utterly senseless by 10:42. And leaving her bright red, already a little tipsy, and all alone with her boss.
There had been no fourth degree burns on a teen from a bonfire last week. And Proctor's arm was still around her shoulders and her third shot was on the bar between her hands. She needed that alcohol, right now. Serena wrapped shaking fingers around the glass and fought the burn in her throat to get it down without showing the pain. "Happy now, Proctor?" Shoving his arm off her shoulder, Serena turned to see him. The smile on his face only raised her blood pressure even higher. "What the hell do you want?"
The expression on his face faded, turned serious and just a little unreadable. "To make sure you're alright." He raised one hand to her arm, fingers curling warm against her skin. His smile had made her angry. His pity made her absolutely furious. Serena couldn't have described what happened in the next few moments if she'd been under oath. The bar stool hit the ground at her feet. His drink ended up soaking into the cloth of his shirt and her hand was imprinted in red on his cheek.
"Who do you think you are? You're not my father, brother, or boyfriend. But you think you have the right to follow me, check up on me?" Her hand was in the air on the way to his face when his fingers caught her wrist and dragged her hard against his chest.
"I'm your friend and your boss, Serena. I care about you and I'm not letting you do anything tonight that you'll regret in the morning, I promise you that." Her fingers knotted up in the front of his shirt as he wrapped his arms around her in something like a hug. "I'm taking you home."
His arms tightened just a little and the feelings she'd planned to drink away climbed back up out of the pit of her stomach. Serena found her face buried against his chest and her arms clinging to his waist. "She was only 18."
"I know, darling. I know. You did everything you could, everything possible. It was just her time." She felt his cheek rest against her hair, felt the rumble of his voice under her cheek. "We save the ones we can, but we have to learn to let the others go."
She just nodded against his shoulder and tried to pull out of his arms. "God, I need a drink."
He didn't let go, but did open his arms enough to tilt her chin up and meet her eyes. His lips curved upward with a little twitch. "After no less than three shots of vodka already?"
Proctor did something she'd thought was impossible tonight. He made her smile for real. "Right now I'm not sure the bottle would be enough."
He laughed softly and it felt good against the length of her fingers spread wide over his chest. Serena leaned in a little more to feel that vibration against her ribs and arms. "Well, I'm not letting you drink a whole bottle. Eva and Chris would never forgive me for carrying you into an ER with alcohol poisoning when I could have stopped you. But I think we could both use one more drink. And then I'm driving you home."
Serena found her head tilting to the side and looking up at him with a puzzled face. And it was up at him. He seemed somehow taller when there wasn't a gurney and a patient between them. The look on his face didn't seem like pity, even though that was the reason she'd slapped him. But she didn't know how to take his actions. "Am I supposed to say 'thanks, dad'?"
"I'm not your father. Just your friend." Now his arms opened and he placed one hand on her back to guide her back down onto a barstool. "What would you like to drink?" His face twisted a little and he pushed Greg's empty shot glasses away from the edge of the bar. "Other than vodka."
She still couldn't read his expression as he took Greg's seat and waved the bartender over. "I'll have a mojito, I guess."
"And something to eat." Proctor set a menu in front of her and ordered them both drinks.
"And if I'm not hungry?" She could hear the sudden edge in her voice and knew he'd heard it by the flick of his eyes over her face.
"Three shots of vodka, at your body weight… especially that quickly… is a lot of alcohol. Food in your stomach will help. You know that." Now she could read his expression. That face was pure determination. He was stubborn about making her eat something.
"You know, I'd planned to get really drunk tonight." Serena kept her tone flat and even and her eyes on his face. Something was happening here and she didn't understand it. Serena didn't like things she couldn't understand.
"And then do something stupid and life-affirming. I know. That's why I followed you here." Now he wasn't looking at her, eyes locked on the menu in front him.
"And you're stopping me…why?" Proctor didn't respond for a long moment. Then his shoulders shifted with a long, slow breath in and out.
"Because I know it won't help. It's what I did after my first time calling TOD. Though I still don't remember all the details of everything I did."
"You drank a whole bottle of vodka and did something stupid and life-affirming? Really? What did you do?"
"It was whiskey, or at least the empty bottle I found later in my car was." Now he actually turned at looked at her again. "I totaled a car, got three messages from women I'd either offended or intrigued, and a splitting headache for a week. None of that made me feel any better about the five year old boy found face down in his parents' swimming pool whose heart I couldn't get restarted." Proctor turned enough to rest one hand on her arm and gave her very serious eyes. "Which is why you're having something to eat with a friend, a few controlled drinks, and an available shoulder… right here." Serena felt her teeth sinking into her lip and let her hand reach for his, fingers sliding through his with a soft little squeeze. It made him smile just a little and that eased the tight aching in her chest more than the vodka had and so much more than Greg had. "So what are we having?"
Resting her head on his shoulder, Serena glanced at the menu. "The only safe thing at a bar like this is either greasy or grilled. Wanna share some chicken strips and French fries?"
"That sounds lovely." No, what sounded lovely was the low rumble of his accent under her ear. What felt lovely was the warmth and support of him so close.
After she'd finished enough food, he even let her sip a beer while they talked and he cuddled her under his arm in a quiet booth. Eventually though, she knew it was time to go and it was still before 10:42 pm.
"Mathew?" Serena looked up at him and still hated the weak sound in her voice.
"Yes, darling."
/Darling…that's the second time he's called me that.\\ She looked at her fingers a moment where they rested on the sleeve of his shirt. "I don't want anything else to drink but…" If she couldn't look him in the eyes, she didn't deserve to ask him this. Serena forced her eyes to his face and felt his fingers slide through hers again. It was a warm, solid grip and seemed to give her a little strength. "But I don't want to go home yet either. I'm … I'm not ready to be alone."
"It's not 10:42 yet, is it?" His eyes were serious and warm on her face. He had really beautiful eyes.
"Not even close."
He nodded with a thoughtful expression and cleared his throat. "What do you say to picking up ice-cream and camping out on my couch for a movie then?"
There was nothing she wanted more in this moment than to spend more time like this. "Now that sounds lovely."
000
