Note: Just wanted to expand on the Kepner/Stark story arch...there isn't much of them on this site. It was getting too long for a one-shot. So it will have to be a two-shot. Enjoy.
April hated what the race for chief resident was turning her life into. One stunt after the next to one-up her colleagues, for what? More respect? Responsibility? Despite the self-assured facade she managed to erect on a daily basis, she couldn't help but feel as if she was emotionally teetering on the edge of disaster.
She eyed Lexie and Jackson across the table wondering why she hadn't opted to sit alone for lunch. They'd been not-so-discreetly handling each other under the table and giggling like teenagers for the entire break. It was completely unprofessional and immature, and reminded her yet again of her stale love-life.
"I'm going to head up early...get started on this mornings charts," she announced as a way of excuse. They both had the decency to nod a halfhearted bye before turning back to each other. She took her picked over lunch to the nearest trash bin and cleared the cafeteria as quickly as her sneakers would carry her.
En route to the nurses station she passed an on-call room with the shade drawn and couldn't help but wonder who was rolling around in there this time. It was amazing what board certified surgeons found time to DO while they were working, she mused. She reached the station and her beloved stack of charts. Salvation.
"Dr. Kepner, you just won an appendectomy in Peds. You have about forty-five minutes to prep," Bailey's voice cut in. A chart landed in front of her.
"Peds? But I'm really behind on this morning's-"
The look Bailey fixed her with stopped her mid-sentence. She couldn't go to peds. Dr. Stark was tromping around up there all 'non communicative' and today she was not in the mood for any drama. But Bailey never left room for argument.
"You're back from lunch early and Robbins requested an extra set of hands so you're in. Charts can wait." And like that she strode up to the schedule, marker in hand, and scribbled 'Kepner' underneath Robbins.
"Right. I'll be in peds," she mumbled, taking the additional chart with her into the elevator.
She reviewed with Arizona, actually glad for the distraction once they were underway. It was a routine procedure, nothing fancy, but the poor kid was only eight years old. Smaller organs, more fragile bodies - pediatrics always carried the threat of complications the general population didn't. Her mind wandered to the surgery she assisted Stark in to save baby Sophia. She had experienced a strange rush of excitement that hadn't been replicated to date. There she was working beside a man she had come to admire, but hated her, as he demonstrated the skill and compassion that she learned of only through his advances on her. All the while...he saved the life of their friend's premature child.
It was infuriating, really. To think he'd allowed her to see tidbits of his charm and brilliance only to shut her out because she wanted to be friends. What was wrong with friends? She frowned into her tie-on mask, eying the monitor. He had to know that's how she always saw him, despite the 'dates'.
"I'm sorry?"
"I said we're closing," Arizona repeated louder. "All in a days work." You could hear the smile of satisfaction in her tone.
That was how she saw him, despite the dates, wasn't it? It had to be. There was no way anything would have worked between them. Age difference aside, the man was too far ahead of her in every part of life for it to have made sense.
"I'm going to scrub out then, unless you need me for anything else," she announced, realizing she wanted to be off this floor before the object of her stress materialized. The other surgeon gave her a discerning look before nodding. She tore out of her gown and out into the hall where down by the elevator a nurse partially obscured her view of the man in question.
Of course.
He eyed her briefly and continued his conversation with the nurse before heading into the elevator.
This was stupid. Two grown people who couldn't be acquaintances for no good reason. It had been months since she tactlessly excused herself from their movie date and he was still cold as ever. Utterly ridiculous. It was clear she would have the be the mature one if their budding friendship still had a chance.
A few days had gone by. There was still no new chief, but the interviews were over and done with and honestly, she didn't care anymore. She had done all she could to prove herself and April was sick of the games and competition. Games having to do with her job, anyway. There was one game she was still strategizing despite a nagging feeling that she should leave well enough alone.
She eyed Dr. Stark over her mask discreetly, trying to observe him without dividing her attention too much from the open thoracic cavity between them. She had plenty of time to observe him when they'd gone for coffee and to dinner back when they were 'friends' but then she'd taken this attention for granted. Now she had to take notes when the opportunity presented itself. Because she was nothing if not observant and analytical by nature.
She knew this was his last scheduled surgery of the day, and that even though their young patient had coded twice, she was now stable, and there wasn't a single crease in Stark's brow to show for it. That was his way. Calm and collected even as hell rose around them, and monitoring systems blared warnings. She continued retracting as Stark's voice interrupted her small observations.
"Dr. Kepner, I clearly recall Dr. Avery was scheduled in on this procedure by his own request. Any insight as to why he would be absent?," he began, in his usual tone reserved for small children stealing from the cookie jar...and residents.
"He had...uh...there was a situation with one of his cases from this morning. He swapped with me." It wasn't completely a lie. He swapped, but only if she agreed to do his laundry for a week. He agreed with a knowing smirk and a flash of devious green eyes. She changed the subject quickly, with a question on a technique he'd used earlier in the surgery.
There was a brief moment where she thought he'd ignore her question, but he answered it as they sutured the patient. She followed him to de-gown and he fixed annoyed grey eyes on her.
"Next time you want in on one of my surgeries, you come to me. These aren't baseball cards, they are medical procedures, Dr. Kepner." He lathered his arm roughly. Internally, she rolled her eyes, but she replied calmly.
"Right, sir. Just trying to help out." April whipped off her scrub-cap and shook out her hair. She began to wash as well and felt his eyes travel over her quickly. Apparently she wasn't the only one stealing glances. She fought the urge to blush.
A week had gone by without another opportunity to work with Stark. April had been knee deep in trauma cases and couldn't worm her way back into the OR with the man with any decent excuse. She somehow ended up at Sloan's service twice, which was fine for furthering her plastics repertoire. Rhinoplasties were great, but she was drawn to her little agenda with a certain pediatric surgeon. She continued to catch him stealing a glance now and then, across a walkway or at the nurses station. She didn't realize she was being watched as well.
"I never pegged you as the stalker-type," Avery announced once in the elevator.
"What are you talking about?"
"You and Stark. I thought you shut that down. You know...just friends."
"There was nothing to shut down, Jackson," she whisper-shouted despite them being alone in the elevator. He raised a brow as if he begged to differ.
"Well you're watching him ALOT lately and he's avoiding you like the plague. I dunno...if you asked me-"
"I DIDN'T ask you. Nothing's up," she cut in and left the elevator testily. It was bad enough they all put the idea in her head that she was going to end up sleeping with the man in the first place. Had they not pestered her, she probably would not have cancelled on him. And then where would she be? Not half-stalking a man that hated her, that was certain. It wasn't a comforting thought that she was a coward when it came to intimacy. She blamed lack of experience, which lead to the cowardice, which lead back to the lack of experience. It was nasty circle. Now that she was trying to smooth things out Avery was interfering again. This hospital became a frustrating reincarnation of high school with each passing week.
The day finished in a blur. She changed in silence and tried to leave without having to speak to anyone. It had been a frustrating day, and Avery's comments had rattled her teetering sensibilities. She was nearly to her car when she caught sight of Stark leaving the hospital, briefcase in hand.
She chewed her bottom lip trying to will her feet to keep walking and mind their own business. They did keep walking, past her own vehicle to the the one she knew to belong to the older surgeon making strides across the lot. He had already unlocked it before noticing her standing on the passenger side. There were subtle changes in his posture that betrayed the trepidation with which he now closed the gap.
"Dr. Kepner, I am not in the mood. And this is not you're car," he began moodily, pointing vaguely in the direction of her space. She stilled her resolve and and got in the passenger side without a word. "Kepner, I'm not kidding. Go home. Leave me in peace."
When he heard her lock her side he opened the driver side and bent down to peer at her with a look she tried not to dissect lest she lose her nerve.
"Dr. Stark, I'd like to speak to you, and since you are too stubborn to do so in there, this will have to do." He glanced around irritably. "We're both tired. This will only take a minute." Her mind was racing with all she wanted say and the fear he might just stand outside the car all night. He straightened seeming to stall before giving in and climbing in on his side.
His expression was a peculiar mix of weariness and annoyance. He massaged the bridge of his nose. "Say it, Kepner, so I can go home."
"Its April...Robert," she corrected, ignoring the sigh of frustration he let out, "We aren't on the clock, and we aren't being surgeons right now." She twisted so she could face him properly, despite his refusal to look at her. "I've tried to give you space and adjust to this...whatever this is you're enforcing. But to be honest I think it's ridiculous. What have I done to you?"
He made the mistake of glancing at her and catching her imploring eyes.
"April. We've already discussed this in its entirety."
"No. I told you I wanted to be friends, and you shut me out. Am I so terrible? We can't possibly be civil adults and spend time together?" She turned back in her seat, arms crossed defiantly. "I wasn't trying to make nice earlier. I really was enjoying getting to know you. I had intended to keep on getting to know you."
He didn't like this. The close proximity. He was a patient and controlled man, had been for a long time. She was trying to gain more control of the situation and frankly he wasn't taking it so well. He could smell her shampoo for gods sake.
"As I said, I was not interested in your friendship. I've had plenty of friends in my life. Now if that's all you wanted to-"
"Try. Just try," she turned back, leaning closer. He still wouldn't face her. "It can't be your way or no way at all. It doesn't work like that." She rested what she hoped was a friendly hand on his right knee. At this he did turn, lips pursed in a still defiant line. She could see the dam cracking just a teeny weeny bit. Hard grey eyes were suddenly a softer heather. He slowly released a breath.
"I'm not promising anything."
She couldn't stop the triumphant grin that was tugging at the corners of her mouth. He started the engine.
"Now out."
She scuttled out of the car, pleased with the progress she'd just made. Not so cold after all, she thought has he screeched out of the parking lot and away from the hospital.
There were improvements over the next few days, subtle though they were. As a physician, April relished in the subtle and minute. He called her into a rather difficult procedure and let her attempt the first few stages on her own. She was still glowing when he shooed her away hours later. Karev was outside, arms crossed.
"I think I was right about you."
"What?"
He nodded toward the OR, even though Stark had already gone up to his office.
"He only asked you to assist him because he still thinks he has a shot. You know I wanted that surgery." April's mouth hung open.
"A shot? I thought I cleared this up already. There's nothing going on...and he let me assist because I'm excellent and interested in his skill as a surgeon. What is it with you men thinking women only get ahead using their wiles!" she retorted. Alex was insufferable when he caught the scent of something.
"Whatever. Do what you have to do," he grumbled.
Thanks to Karev, the younger surgeon spent the better part of the evening mentally trying to refute his claim. She was good. That was the only reason she was getting 'in' on the good surgeries. Besides, he was just hung up over his tiff with Fields. If there was anything April learned about Karev, it was that he had absolutely no trouble taking a bad mood out on others.
Maybe the attention was because she was a talented surgeon. Maybe it was because Stark was attracted to her. He did plainly admit it when she gave him 'the talk'. Whatever the reason she had come to miss it while he wasn't speaking to her. It was hard not to have a friend in this hospital. Sure Lexie and Jackson were friends of sorts, but they had each other. Meredith and Derek were caught up in each other and their trial. Yang probably saw her as something stuck to the bottom of her sneakers. Karev was dangerous.
She sure missed Reed.
Lexie bumped hips with her at the nurses station. "Hey how did that go with Dr. Stark today?"
"Oh it was great. He let me insert the scope and start excavating on my own," she glanced around for clearance, "I don't think Karev is too happy about it."
Lexie rolled her eyes. "He'll get over it. Besides, tomorrow there's a pretty big transplant case in Stark's department he's been gunning for. Seven year old, double kidney failure. "
"Sounds exciting."
"Indeed. Look, Jackson and I were doing a Twilight Zone marathon tonight. You should join us...maybe invite..someone over..." Her tone was overly cautious.
"Someone like who? And I know what your 'marathons' are really about. I think I'll be in bed early tonight Lexie," she replied feeling the bile rise at the thought of sitting up with the rabbits in heat all night long. She went to go find Bailey to do her rounds.
It ended up being a late night for Kepner. They had ordered additional tests on her last patient for the night and she didn't manage her way to the locker room until 1am. She was beyond tired and couldn't believe she'd left her pager upstairs in the doctors lounge. She got changed and ran up to get it, unable to ignore that the desk lamp was on in Stark's office. The door was open a crack but she knocked anyway.
"What is it?" he called without looking up.
"Hey, Dr. Stark," she greeted quietly. Honestly she didn't know why she'd decided to bother the poor man. It wasn't like her to do things on impulse. She was all about lists and plans and bullet points. But right now Lexie and Jackson were an hour into their 'marathon' and she was not particularly eager to deal with it.
He looked up, clearly not expecting it to be her, before focusing his attention back to the chart and notes in front of him. "Dr. Kepner, something you need to ask me?"
"Um, not particularly...I saw that you were still here. It's actually pretty late," she supplied uselessly. He looked tired. He'd thrown his labcoat over a bookshelf in the corner. He wasn't impressed, leaning back in his chair with a puff of weariness.
"That hadn't escaped me, doctor. I have a lot to review here, so if you don't have an actual question of some kind..." he waved a dismissive hand in her direction. She ignored it and sat her bag in the chair in front of his desk. There were renal diagrams spread everywhere and scans open on his computer.
"This is for tomorrow, isn't it? The kidney transplant- wow the infection must have been massive..." she exclaimed, studying the images on his monitor.
He eyed her cautiously, aware that she was standing very much in his personal space to get a view of his computer. "Yes. His case is very serious. We're going to end up removing alot of his own duct system to accept the donor kidney. Even then, it's a long shot."
"Have you performed this kind of transplant before?"
"Yes. A few years back. I published my notes on it as well after making some adaptations to the previously accepted protocol. Don't you have some place to be?"
She picked up a hand-drawn diagram with notes written in scrawl. "This is actually very..." her thoughts trailed off as if he hadn't said the last bit. He was pinching the bridge of his nose again. So much for reviewing in peace.
He thumbed through the chart for minute, trying to figure out what she was still doing here. She'd made it clear what she thought of him, thus she ought to be off with one of her younger cohorts at this hour. When he glanced back up at her she was watching him. He wasn't sure why this made it difficult to swallow.
"Dr. Kepner, I appreciate the interest," he tried again slowly. "But its late." He started shuffling papers together in the act of 'closing up'. She could faintly smell his aftershave mixed in with the scent of paper. It wasn't unpleasant.
"I uh was hoping you would grab lunch with me this week. Maybe outside the hospital. It's been a while since we talked." She blamed her lack of sleep and the long day for dulling her inhibition, but she'd just blurted it out and it was too late. He took the diagram out of her hands and kept packing up his things.
"I am not so sure that is a wise idea, Dr. Kepner." She rolled her eyes dramatically at this. Still 'Kepner', even though it was her fault he'd reverted back to the formality in the first place. In hindsight, if she hadn't been so panic-stricken over the level of comfort she was developing around him, she might have realized then how nice her name had sounded coming from him. Now it was going to be difficult to forge a friendship tiptoeing around propriety. She fixed him with her best hurt puppy look, and even let her hair fall just a tad more over her shoulders.
"Hey...you said you'd try."
The woman was making his life difficult. First barging in while he was trying to get some work done, and now playing the guilt card.
"Correction: I said I wouldn't promise anything." He grabbed his briefcase and started turning things off. She hurried out into the hallway as he locked his office. "I'm a grown-up, . You don't have to do the pity thing with me. I respect your decision." She followed him to the elevator.
"Not pity. C'mon, weeks ago you wanted us to watch a romance flick, now you don't think having a meal with me is 'a wise idea'." She let him press the button for the ground floor. Alone in the elevator, she made one more sincere attempt. "Lunch. If its too weird for you, then I promise I'll leave you alone." And be friendless, she thought moodily. The small lights in the elevator illuminated the red streaks in her hair distractingly.
It was too late at night for this.
"Fine. Friday lunch. I get to pick the place. Oh, and if you feed me another bogus excuse why you can't make it you'll be changing a few dozen bedpans between surgeries, April," he consented with his usual sarcasm.
"Thanks. Friday is good. Good night, Dr. Stark. And good luck tomorrow," she called after him. He responded with a halfhearted wave in the direction of her car.
The next day's transplant went off successfully, albeit lasting three hours longer due to complications. Karev had stood in on it while Kepner and Lexie sat in the gallery. It was a fascinating procedure, and Stark was certainly good at what he did. Lexie took the opportunity to inquire, "So how are you and Stark these days?"
"We're fine, actually. Why do you ask?"
"Well back at the baby shower Karev was saying things and I know you didn't seem so interested before, but that was a while ago. You seem to be working with him alot these days..."
"We're just friendly colleagues. I don't know why everyone thinks we're screwing." She didn't know why she felt so defensive on the matter. Couldn't she just have a private friendship with the guy?
"He seems cool, really. I thought he was just a snarky old grouch, but I think he does have a soft side. I don't know...you'd probably have to, to be in pediatrics, right?"
"Maybe. Keep in mind though, the majority of the time he spends with the children is when they're unconscious on the operating table."
"No...there's more there. Whatever, its just a hunch."
April leaned forward on her elbows, studying the man while he worked. Most of the time she spent thinking of him was more about their communication than his physicality. Obviously he was older. Most doctors in the hospital were. He had an average-joe look about him. No Dr. Shepard, by any stretch. But he was sincere in a way that made her want to trust him. Hell, she'd been about to have a movie night with him at his place until Karev and company jumped on her about it. She tried to imagine how it would be if they were dating and she kept drawing a grey cloud. It was better not to think about it. After all, she'd already had 'the talk'. He was ok with it. End of story.
They began pulling off gowns and gloves down below, indicating the end of the surgery. He glanced up at her briefly, the corner of his mouth twirking upwards faintly before he disappeared to scrub out.
Friday.
Stark had the day off. But April had worked a night shift and was getting home around nine in the morning to shower and change. She and Stark had agreed to make it an early lunch and she met him at some fancy brunch dive of his choosing. Despite her insistence that this not be a date, he paid and asked her to take a short walk.
They were off to a somewhat awkward start, that quickly faded into excited talk of work and new research. It seemed the chemistry they had managed months ago was quick to rekindle. She had missed this, having a mature ear to lay her ideas on.
The workdays that followed grew better and better. The two of them shared quiet moments in the hall and the elevators. He consulted her opinion on a number of cases that intrigued him. He even invited her back up to his office for lunch one afternoon so they could talk while he sorted through paperwork.
She picked at her french fries while she unloaded a rather long and detailed recount of how horrible her morning was, beginning with her roommates making the kitchen their new hotspot.
"I mean really, I don't know if I can use the coffee maker again without recalling the trauma. Then I get here and one of the nurses confused my charts with Arizona's and its really difficult to get a hold of her once she's already started her rounds," she threw her auburn tresses back in exasperation. "And my first patient hates me."
Stark had been observing her during her spiel and failed to stop his eyes from following the expanse of neck she unintentionally exposed. He cleared his throat. "Your patient does not hate you. He's seventy-seven and in his country women aren't even allowed to go to college, let alone become doctors. He doesn't trust you yet."
She rolled her large eyes emphatically. "This is an American hospital, in AMERICA. If he wants to stop coughing up phlegm he's going to have to start trusting me real soon," she made her point more seriously by pointing with a french fry.
"I found you can be strangely persuasive when you put your mind to it. You just need to work on him a bit more, April. Use your charms," he added somewhat mockingly. He took a swig of iced tea and started punching away at his computer. April was silenced momentarily by the casualness of the moment.
"Right...all those years of school to resort to good 'ol feminine charms."
They rode the elevator down to the parking lot again. They had been doing that more often...in a friendly way of course, April noted to herself. This was despite the slight brush of a hand on the small of her back as she exited.
Stark was beginning to see where he might have gone wrong with April. She was highly alert, by nature. He realized that much in her perky demeanor. In a sense she was like a small brush animal: quick, keen, and startled very easily. There was no small movement that she'd overlook. It was what made her such a perceptive caregiver, but impossible to court. She needed someone to be so discreet and subtle that they were letting her do most of the work. This was no easy feet given he had already been very plain about his intentions with her months ago...back when he thought he was taking it slow and subtle.
He had overheard her conversing with the other residents about how she had the weekend off and needed to recharge. Therefore when he bade her goodnight, he threw in, "See you tomorrow, Kepner."
"Oh I'm off this weekend, miraculously. You?"
"Sunday. My one day of peace."
He could see the little gears shifting into place under her shiny red head. "If you aren't terribly busy we could catch a movie...maybe dinner. You know, only if you aren't doing anything..."
He purposely took a long time deliberating. Why not? Turn about was fair play. She looked both nervous and hopeful at the same time. "Alright then. If you're sure. We'll aim for 6pm sunday."
She headed home, none the wiser for what just happened, but pleased they were cool enough to be trying the whole dinner/movie thing a second time now. What was more was that there was no Karev around to ruin the moment. Take my pants off for Stark. The nerve.
Sunday came quickly and found April tearing through her closet for a suitable outfit for pals-out-for-dinner-and-a-movie. She settled on slacks and a sensible sweater. She insisted on picking Stark up only because she didn't want to explain to her roommates that she wasn't on a date. When she pulled in front of his townhouse he got her to switch cars because he 'preferred to drive.'
"You don't trust my driving skills? I'm a surgeon. I know how to follow the rules of the road," she began as they took off in his car.
"I never said I didn't trust you. I just...prefer to drive. Guy thing."
She rolled her eyes. Didn't men grow out of guy things? She supposed that didn't make as much sense as it should. But it turned out she liked him doing the driving. She could observe him while he focused on the road...compile her list. She noticed that even though he was right handed, he liked to steer with his left hand and lean on the arm rest. He also liked to drive fast.
"This is a residential zone, Robert. "
"I know it is."
"The speed limit is reduced for a reason!"
He tried not to smile so that she wouldn't think he was making fun of her. "I know it is. Relax."
She pursed her worried lips into a line and tried not to think about crashing or speeding tickets. As it were, neither became an issue. They made it to the restaurant, where yet again he paid, despite her insistence that she needed to pay something for it not to be a date. They hadn't actually chosen a movie so in the car they whipped out smartphones and began surfing for a showtime.
"These are terrible," she remarked in disgust. "I should have planned this better."
"Its out of your control. Look, we can choose something at random, or..." and here he hesitated, "we can order a movie at my place...have a little ice cream." He was watching her carefully for signs that this was not the right move.
"I...ok. That's fine. Only for a little while," she added. He expected her to bail again, but if he had heard correctly, they were doing a movie at his place. In his house.
I'm not taking my pants off for Stark. I'm not taking my pants off for Stark. She kept up this mantra as she followed him up to his door and into a pretty nice living space. It was clearly a man's place - leather and dark wood, but it was tasteful and inviting.
"I hope you don't mind vanilla," he called from in the kitchen. "Its really the only flavor I ever buy."
"Its fine," she replied, flicking on the television and trying not to seem fidgety. They were two friends having a little ice cream on the couch. Nothing strange. He joined her, leaving plenty of space between them, and handed her a dessert bowl of ice cream complete with sprinkles. She noticed his did not have sprinkles. "So do you normally keep sprinkles on hand for your ice cream?"
"Not always."
"How come I got sprinkles?"
"You seemed like the sprinkles type," he replied matter-of-factly. He started flipping through the movie selection.
"Is that because I'm a woman?" she challenged.
"No, it is because you are...perky. Would you like to swap?" he offered.
"No. I like the sprinkles it was just an odd thing to assume. When you say perky are you referring to the way I speak? Because Dr. Torres told me to speak differently when I was on her service and I wasn't sure how to do that exactly."
He eyed her with his best 'diagnostic stare'. She felt her face getting warm so she focused all attention on her bowl of ice cream.
"You just seem a little more awake than the rest of us sometimes. You'll have to excuse our washed-up crankiness. Now are we watching an oldie, comedy, drama...you should pick, seeing as how my taste in movies was too forward for our 'friendship'." She set her bowl down on the coffee table.
"Look. It wasn't the movie. Can we not talk about that?"
"Not talk about what? I'm just offering for you to pick the movie. I don't care what we watch, so long as there's some semblance of plot."
"And why are you referring to us like its a joke? Hm..'our friendship'."
"Fine. I'll pick the movie. Lawrence of Arabia. It's a classic."
"Its three hours long!"
"Then choose something shorter." He was failing at keeping the exasperation from his voice. The woman was driving him a little crazy. This was bad enough, having her over knowing she wasn't interested in him the way he was with her. Also, he was beginning to see her 'fussiness' was a defense mechanism. Though what she was defending against was a mystery. She took the remote and chose something shorter. "27 Dresses?"
"Its shorter."
It was shorter. He humored her, half watching the movie and half studying her in the dim light of his living room. He made popcorn and opened a bottle of wine. She accepted a glass but seemed hesitant to drink it. He didn't force the issue. They made it halfway through the film.
"So if it wasn't my choice in movies, what was it?"
A kernel went down wrong and she started coughing. He started to reach for her and she swatted at him, instead grabbing her glass and taking a gulp.
"It...was nothing. Like I said, I just wanted things to stay as they were."
"You were fine with it up until the last minute."
"I told you I was busy with the whole chief thing," she muttered, staring down into her glass. What did he want her to say? My peers made me think you were trying to get in my pants and it scared the shit out of me? After Karev, the thought was pretty unappealing.
He nodded slowly. "Right."
He was reminding her how horrible the whole thing had made her feel. She finished her glass in another large gulp but continued to hold onto it. This was her fault for not nixing the whole virginity thing earlier on. She had to go and be patient and virtuous until it turned her into a 28-year old neurotic mess. She glanced at the older surgeon, who was watching the movie again, one hand across the back of the sofa, the other behind his head. The poor guy had been amazingly decent considering she had rejected him...rejected him after a month of getting to know her without making a single move. Here he was, obliging her request to be friends when that was clearly the last thing he wanted. Could she really be so selfish?
She set her glass down and shifted a calculated four inches closer.
"I was in a wedding once. It was pretty awful." He took note of her new positioning. Closer was a good thing.
"Bridesmaid?"
"Maid of honor...apparently because I was so organized and could function under pressure," she said with no small amount of disdain. "I got through most of the ceremony but I fainted as the bride and groom were coming back down the aisle. Low blood sugar," she offered as a way of explanation. He nodded in understanding.
"I was married once." Her delicate eyebrows shot up.
"Oh. Really? What happened?" she asked before realizing there could be a really tragic story on the way.
"There was no dramatic fainting at the wedding, but a few years back she left me to go teach English to villages in Guatemala. "
"I'm so sorry."
"Eh...I had my work in pediatrics...she wanted her own thing. It was her dream."
She shifted again to face him more directly. "So...any kids?"
"No no. We thought we were going to but that didn't work out...then the divorce. So it was for the best. Besides, I think I see enough 'kids' in my work," he finished dismissively. She almost opened her mouth to make a point about said kids being sick or dying usually when he got to them but decided against it. "You have any?"
Her eyes widened considerably before she started laughing. "God no. I don't know how anyone in our line of work can have children."
"Look at Robbins and Torres."
"Yes. They're insane. I don't know. It just seems sadistic somehow. Our lives are SURGERY. Why squeeze one more incredibly difficult and lengthy obligation like child-rearing? And you saw Torres while she was recovering. It was torture, not just because she couldn't move...because she couldn't see her kid."
"The kid's got three doctor parents. They'll all be fine, if they don't kill each other." The movie was winding down. He got up and collected the dishes a little surprised that April followed him to the kitchen. She leaned casually over the granite counter top while he deposited the bowls and flatware into the dishwasher. He was doing his absolute best not to stare or draw attention to the fact he found the younger surgeon attractive. If he did say so, he must have been doing an outstanding job because she was still here. He also pretended not to notice how much time she spent watching him when she thought he wasn't aware.
It was weird seeing Stark do chores...hell she couldn't believe she gotten the nerve back up to be in the man's house. The further she thought about it, April realized mental congratulations were in order. She had gotten through a whole movie and wine without any pants coming off or any awkward variation. In fact, the man was perfectly behaved. Not like Alex...not like a few guys she'd attempted to actually date. Although, she doubted Stark was even one tenth the loose canon Karev was.
Stop. Stop comparing this man to Karev. This man is a..a friend. Karev is a failed attempt at romance.
He wiped his hands on a kitchen towel.
'...definition of taking off your pants.'
Her thoughts were no longer cooperating, and the sound of the dishwasher shutting snapped her out of the disarray. "Well I really ought to go. Early start Monday," she suddenly announced.
"Yeah. I'll walk you out." Again, that hand on the small of her back. This time she noticed the warmth it emitted through the fabric of her sweater. She turned in the doorway, unable to stop her lips from moving.
"This was nice, Robert. I'm glad we were able to do this after..you know...before. You aren't going to start favoring me at work, right?" She sounded genuinely concerned by this. He treated her to his snarkiest eye-roll.
"I thought you'd realize by now that isn't quite how I operate. Just be on your game. You don't need any of my favoritism, April." The sincerity in his tone brought a touch of blood into her cheeks. She turned away.
"Right. Well, see you tomorrow." He watched her hasty retreat to her car before closing the door.
Yes...small brush animal indeed.